Genre: Romance/Drama

Pairing: Hinata/Naruto

Rating: M

Summary: ''To marry into the Otsutsuki family is to aid the Hyūga,'' her father explained solemnly.

Notes: This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but it got so out of hand that I, before I knew it, had already written over twenty-eight thousand words. So, I've decided to divide this story into two parts to make it an easier read. It's still super long. Waah. This story is a bit AU, loosely based on 'The Last: Naruto the movie' and takes place during that time period. Toneri is not a crazy alien hell-bent on destroying the earth, but he's still, well, Toneri. Sakura is captain of the NH ship, Sasuke is doing godknowswhat (bro, when you coming home, tho?) and also, Neji is alive, because Neji is sunshine, flowers and everything that is right in this world. No, Kishimoto, I will never be over his death.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

...

The good left undone

…

…

Chapter 1

The sun was sinking as her father shuffled behind her.

In an odd manner, Hinata couldn't hear him breathing as if life came to him differently. The sky was a murky shade of splattered yellow, thick sweeps of orange and a faint crimson glow. Her legs were aching in their kneeled position in front of the green, dotted with white pillow that her father would frequently take a seat on, much in the same way as his eldest daughter. It was only today that he opted for an aimless stroll within the spacious room, lingering in front of the window a few times and drawing away one of the drapes to peer outside in thought. Once he found his mind sufficiently cleared, he would step away from the window to pace through the room again.

His steps finally halted. The light of the sun was dauntless, peeking through gapes and creaks and into the renowned Hyūga Hiashi's household.

''There comes a time when we must do what is best for our family.'' His voice was ever the loud without exerting pressure. The leader of the Hyūga clan demanded attention with just the accentuation of his words, the stretch of his letters and the unyielding way he spoke to his company. It was not the Hyūga who must tremble at the lisp of words in the presence of another soul, but the outsiders. And because of that—with her soft voice and light quips—Hinata could never be a true Hyūga. ''And with a high rank in this social, but also organic stature of society, there is the prime matter off upholding this rank. You, of all beings, are a part of our clan—one of the highest in our social regime—some may even go as far as to call you a princess. Nevertheless, it is not only the epithet that comes with your stature, but also certain duties. You must behave like a true member of the Hyūga clan; both in sustaining a well-bred speech and infallible battle skills,'' Hinata flinched, very aware that her shinobi skills were not up to par with the overall high standards of the Hyūga clan. ''But most importantly, you must ensure the legacy of your people—of the clan—to unfurl.''

The clan leader shuffled to the green pillow, keeping his back to the young woman. In a declaration of respect, Hinata aimed her sight to the floor, slightly bowing her head. ''Tell me, Hinata, how does one keep a bloodline pure?''

The room was well ventilated, but a chill caught up to her skin even so. ''By breeding with their own… kind, father,'' she squeaked, teeth clattering against each other. The air suddenly turned heady, it breathed wetly against her skin and Hinata felt smothered.

''And how do we ensure a stronger bloodline; one that may be even better than the former?'' Her father pressed.

Her answer was a raucous: ''By breeding with a stronger bloodline, father.''

He curled his arms behind his back, entangling his fingers. The valiant sunlight touched his profile and slapped an eerie shadow of a taller, slender man across the floor boards.

''You are eighteen years old, my daughter, the heir to the Hyūga clan and I want nothing but the best for the clan and you. To give you a husband that is nothing short but the best in both spheres is what we all need.''

The cold numbed her senses. It must have gotten to her heart, because Hinata couldn't feel it beating or hear the telltale thumping that came with fright. An all-consuming shock that rendered the body completely impassive—like submersion into frosty water—took over. She tempered the shivers crawling like lice over her skin. This was no time to tremble in front of a man who regarded weakness with an scrutinizing, and bordering on repulsion, stare! Of the cruel distaste her father had cherished for the younger woman in front of him remained less than a scrape, but Hinata recalled the time of being just off good enough as clear as the very lines that decorate the flat expanse of her hand. Her dark hair was limper than usual, dragging dubitable across her shoulders once she moved her head up to stare dazedly at her father's back.

''There is a suitor. He's an exceptional one, if I do say so myself. He will create a Kekkei Genkai beyond our imagination. They call it the Tenseigan. You are to marry him, Hinata. He is to be your husband.''

Her father turned to face her and quickly, Hinata dropped her sight to the floor, hunching her back into the pliant position that had charmed her frail body ever since the clan leader sent one of the servants to retrieve her from her chambers. Her eyebrows were raised and neared her hairline. Her eyes shifted maniacally with fright and slivers of shock about her dilated pupils. She itched to push her fingers together in the nervous trait she swore she had outlived, but pushed her cut fingernails into her achy thighs instead. Hinata was relieved that the dark tresses of her hair covered the side of her face completely, shielding her horrified expression from the refined, older man watching her in case an uncomely reaction slithered down her face.

''To marry into the Otsutsuki family is to aid the Hyūga,'' her father explained solemnly. The air around his words begged for some form of retort, so Hinata agreed with a curt nod. ''We will have a familial meeting six days from now at the Hyūga residence. You will meet him, then.''

She didn't waste a beat. ''Yes, father,'' her thick tongue moved heavily in her mouth and for the life of her, Hinata couldn't understand how she was able to speak clearly in her moment of stupefaction without a single stutter. Perhaps the small words, rehearsed and used daily, even hourly, were too habitual to spoil.

''Good,'' he took a seat on the pillow and raised his head to look at the woman before him. ''Now return to your room and proceed your studies.''

''Yes, father.''

There was much Hinata could hide, like the emotions on her face. It naturally morphed into that of phlegm, but her heart was pounding, raging like a beast waking up and finding out it was caged. When she rose in a delirium, not quite aware of her surroundings, the clan leader witnessed something alike. As the story goes, it is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, though Hyūga Hiashi would be pressed to believe otherwise. Hinata was a kindhearted being, as she had proven time and time again, yet the eyes he was faced with were barren, hard like an unthawed lake in mid-Winter. The gentle being that was his daughter could not be found in pearls the color of lavender.

It was then that Hyūga Hiashi realized that even eyes could be wrong sometimes.

The walls and stairs were familiar and so were the pale eyed people passing Hinata, sharing a courteous nod every now and then as she walked. She reciprocated in a daze. Even in her lack-luster state, Hinata could not be unmannerly.

Although she couldn't understand why the walls around her turned hazy the closer she got to her destination… or why the air around her was suddenly wavy and contorted.

She closed her bedroom door behind her and dragged her heavy body to a brown box seated on top of her windowsill. Picking it up and sinking down to the floor, Hinata lifted the lid of the box up, placing it gently next to her on the floor. Almost fearful that any sudden movement would make too much sound and shake Hinata out of the trance-like-state she had found herself in. In the box laid the handiwork of a woolen cloth, curled in a heap of string and fabric. With trembling hands, Hinata picked the recently finished red cloth up and pushed it against her nose, burying her face against the downy and inhaling deeply as if the scent of salty seasoning she was imagining, had already soaked the cloth.

Taking the red scarf to face value again, she spotted shiny, little crystal like fluids on the fabric. Her sight was cleared, but it quickly filled with odd specks that blurred her sight on commando.

She raised a finger to her wet cheeks.

Tears.

…

A stray, crumpled leaf rolled in front of a small café, not far from Ichiraku's. Winter had come without its snow, but the apathetic season had not forgone all its elements. It had taken nature hostage by withering its green into ash brown and dusty gray. Freezing the moisture in what remained of the dandelions and glass splinters into ice crystals; sculptures handcrafted by mother nature. The Hyūga heir sat perched on top of her stool, a cup of tea in her hand as her eyes engulfed the vast changing colors in front of her. The afternoon was quiet. The little café had a handful of souls sipping from their mugs and the sun hung low, casting a feint glow about Hinata's surroundings.

The eldest daughter of Hyūga Hiashi clenched her tiny hands around the cup. Fingers gone stiff from the morning cold were warmed by the flare of heat sizzling into her palms.

''Hinata…'' A kind voice called out. ''Are you okay?''

Oh. Hinata had nearly forgotten her company. Unbecoming from a lady of her stature, of course. What would father say if he were to hear of his daughter's lack of manners?

Hinata snapped her head back to face the pink haired woman, forcing a smile to fill up the otherwise dreary ends of her face.

Sakura must have taken note of the sudden change in Hinata's demeanor, because a frown creased a way across her face. The Haruno girl was ever the observant, keen to pick up the dubious facial expressions of the young shinobi. What had Sakura changed over the years that had gone by! A matter of fact, what had they both exceptionally changed over the course of these years. Once upon a time, Hinata wouldn't dream the thought of interacting with anyone other than her own shadow. But, Hinata supposed, only so many people could handle loneliness before the sentiment overflowed and drowned out their existence. Now, Hinata had grown into herself bit by bit and found a friend in Haruno Sakura. Hinata had always, secretly, envied the woman in front of her. Sakura possessed the ability to talk to and be with Sasuke-san—even though platonically—and how badly had Hinata wished for the strength to talk to Naruto in the same way; be by his side even if his vicinage gutted her?

But alas, she hadn't progressed much and it was quite clear with Hinata's current situation that she would never be allowed to progress any further.

It was the life of a princess, Hinata supposed. Life was not hers, it was everyone else's and if she must sacrifice her happiness for that of everyone else, then she must.

''Yes,'' she answered quietly. ''I was just reminiscing something my father had said.''

Sakura's frown deepened. ''Was it something bad?''

''It was… duty calling.'' She looked at the fingers splayed around the cup and widened the stretch. ''When duty calls you must answer. At least, that is what my father says. Duty must never be allowed to ring over.''

''Your dad's too harsh, Hinata. Sure, duty is important, but it's not the most important thing. There are more important things than duty in this world and because of that, yes, sometimes duty will have to catch a raincheck.'' Sakura paused. ''Do you want to talk about it?''

''No… It's okay.''

There was a blaring truth in Sakura's words. Life had too much meaning to be narrowed down to only duty, but Hinata had been taught otherwise for a very long time. The teachings of her elders had been ingrained into her core, grinded and rooted so it could flourish along her developing brain. Her clan rose above all else, didn't they? How could Hinata draw the line between duty and something as ostensibly and uncertain as the inexistent love between Naruto and she? Surely the welfare of her clan stuck patent above a makeshift possibility of anything with Naruto? It was an agonizing hope that Hinata had processed into a fruitless, infantile mindset. A stupid crush that had extended all throughout childhood and blossomed into a one-sided love. Only a child would harbor hope for a fairy-tale-like happy ending and Hinata hadn't been a child for a long time now.

Hinata dug her fingertips against the cup, preventing her body from falling into its customary trait of finger tapping.

''How about we change the subject to a lighter note?'' Sakura picked her unease out the air like a slow moving bug, trying to squash it in the best way she knew. ''The winter festival is in three days' time! You're going, right? Naruto's coming, too,'' Sakura honed her face with a sly smile.

Hinata blushed against better thought.

''Did you get him something?'' Sakura continued, flurried. ''If you haven't, then you should! This is your chance, Hinata! It is the place to make a move. I have a gut feeling that once you give him a gift, he's sure to use his thick head properly for once and reciprocate your feelings.''

Hinata's stare shimmied down to the table, hands twirling the cup 'round just to occupy her fingers. ''I'm not sure, Sakura-chan. If Naruto-kun was indeed interested in me, wouldn't he have responded to my confession all those years ago?'' The truth that she had buried and attempted to seal away forever, under a heap full of denial and torn pride, spurted up, untamed and very much alive.

''He would have if he knew what you actually meant.''

Hinata frowned at that. What was Sakura trying to imply?

The fiery pink haired girl resumed, ''Naruto probably thought that your love confession was like... His love for ramen, I bet. Naruto's still short of a few brain cells to make sense of a love confession. He's risked his life plenty of times for his friends, so he must have thought that your sacrifice was just... well, a Naruto kind of move. Naruto doesn't—romantically—love every person he risks his life for, does he? So, he can't wrap his mind around the concept that someone could and would risk, absolutely everything, for him outside of friendship, but above all, more. That's all. If Naruto isn't familiar with a segment, he has trouble accepting that it could happen to him. Now, what you have to do is untie a couple of those knots in that wired concept of his, so there's room for him to figure it out. A gift in a heavily romanticized setting like the winter festival is the place to do it!''

Her heart clenched tightly beneath its confines and her breathing became labored. Subtly, she touched the left side of her chest, concealing the view of her eyes by bowing her head. Bangs tickled her eyelashes, but Hinata hardly noticed.

''Hinata,'' Sakura lowered her voice to a gentle purr. ''I know you're nervous, but I also know you're in love him, and that,'' Sakura knitted her eyebrows together considerately, ''has to count for something, right? That has to weigh more than your anxiety, shouldn't it?''

Her bottom lip shivered and Hinata had to bite it in order to keep the girl in front of her from prying.

''I'm—'' beyond terrified. ''I'm—'' to be married. ''I'm—'' stuck.

''Hey?''

She looked up, suppressing the tears that were pooling into her eyes like the start of relentless rain.

''You've spent so many years just on your toes trying to catch a glimpse of him. He may have never noticed, but everyone else has. You love him. If only for clarity, you should tell him how you feel, because you deserve that much, Hinata. You deserve happiness... and Naruto deserves it, too,'' Sakura smiled a bit ruefully. ''You two are perfect for each other, because you too are right for each other. If you're too afraid to do it, because you fear rejection, than at least do it so you can look back with the thought that at one point you caught up to him. At one point you didn't have to stand on your toes to see Naruto, because you were right beside him... Even if it was just for a few minutes.''

Hinata tightened her hold around her shirt, fingers digging into the material. It was hopeless, was it not? How could she give him a scarf that was made out of her love for him when her love was promised to someone else?

But perhaps there was something else to the scarf than just her childish hopes. She didn't make it just because she loved him, but because Naruto was her hero and he had made her strong. For those reasons alone Hinata wanted to thank him. Even if he didn't know her feelings, he had always been by her side regardless. Those red strings that made up the embroidered were the Chūnin exam and the forest during cold winters surrounded by trees while sobbing her voice hoarse and her throat raw. It was the cruel, chasing children who wouldn't let up, because her eyes were slightly different than theirs. It was the grueling training sessions at the Hyūga mansion because Hinata just had to catch up to him.

It were Naruto's smiles.

She should give it to him, because the scarf was so much more than love.

''Okay,'' she whispered and Sakura's eyes lit up. ''I'll give him a present.''

''That's my girl! Go for it.''

...

The moment Hinata entered the crowded courtyard, a lurching anxiety seized her tummy.

The square was surrounded by colorful lights that ranged from ruby red to fluorescent green. Dangling garlands of sunny yellow and gibbous orbs the color of the sky during the day sparkled, once the soft lights—curled around stands and pitched against high ends of the surrounding buildings—touched it. The music was loud and the people were bountiful, joyously gracing the make-shift dance floor that was nothing but a bed of grass and weed. Girls abound had found a counterpart to occupy their time with and had taken over the crooked benches in front of a glittering, expanding river, the stony pathway of the entrance hall, the stands with meals of all sorts and the here and there lurking stand that sold a few compact items. In case a girl had come empty handed.

It was the food stand with its ramen for sale that held Hinata's attention. The little stand had a red, curving canopy made out of thick plastic, and a row of high stools aligning the counter. Sakura was sitting next to a familiar head of cut, spiky blonde hair, but the young man itself was rendered inconspicuous. Hinata could barely see him, cramped and flocked with girls as he was.

The Hyūga heir clutched the paper bag against her chest to quell the sudden erratic thumping of her heartbeat.

She wasn't surprised, really. Hinata had always thought of Naruto as handsome—beautiful—an exceptional human being with his chiseled jaw and those enticing marks across his cheeks. It was only a matter of time before everyone else saw it, too. It wasn't their flaw for figuring it out later, but hers for not telling him sooner.

And why this pain? Had she not given up on her pointless struggle?

She was selfish; asking for Naruto's love, aware that if her own was to come it would be shackled and strained by the burden of her duty as the heir to the Hyūga clan. Nonetheless, Hinata wasn't emotionally prepared for the sight before her. In all honesty, watching her crush of a lifetime fall for someone else might never be a matter Hinata could prepare for. It was soul crushing like being scooped out from the inside and depraved of air.

Her legs were running the opposite way before she even realized it. The music had latched onto her senses, and Hinata could swear, it was screaming out her name.

...

''Hinata!''

She stiffened, instinctively pushing the paper bag against her chest as if to merge it with her skin.

That voice. It was unforgettable. It haunted her in her dreams and followed her during her day-time fantasies, but why was it calling her now?

Slowly, Hinata dragged her sight from the asphalt to stare at the main subject of her thoughts lately, although Naruto had frequented her thoughts even before the engagement.

She blushed hotly when their eyes met. His were their usual smiling blue, though Hinata spotted a feint, cautious flicker shifting through as he approached her foot by foot. Hers were wide, stretching as if they knew no end to their surprise, like a deer caught in headlights.

Hinata was so grateful for the night. The shading hid her expressions.

Naruto stopped moving and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his orange sweater, filling his face with a cheeky smile. ''Are you in a hurry?'' He began. ''I saw you at the festival, but when I called ya, you were already gone.'' She creased her eyebrows a little. The music that had seemed to blast her name had been an actual person—not just any person, but Naruto. ''Where're you off to so late, anyway? Your house is the other way 'round, yeah? Are you okay? Why'd you leave, 'ttabayo? Sakura really wanted to see you! She seemed miffed when ya left and then took it out on me,'' he breathed out a low, throaty laugh that rumbled her stomach with a swarm of swirling butterflies.

He drew his bandaged, right hand through the strands of his hair, looking down at her and morphing the gentle smile to one of dubiety. Naruto was unsure whether to pursue the matter in case Hinata desired to leave it be. Maybe he worried that questioning her sudden take-off would hit a sore nerve… which it would, kinda.

Then his eyes glazed over the package wormed in her grasp and he frowned.

Protectively, Hinata tried to shield it from his prying gaze, slightly curving her shoulder and aligning her body to face away from his, but it was too late.

''Oh, you've got a gift, too! What is it? Who's it for?'' But upon seeing her defensive poise, Naruto dropped his hand to his side. ''Sorry, not my business,'' he scratched the back of his head. ''Ah… Sometimes I get a little nosy.''

''It's okay,'' she whispered, trying very hard not to let her gaze dwell back to the ground. ''I like that you asked, because it means you're curious and... There's nothing wrong with curiosity. Knowledge is formed by curiosity,'' she reasoned.

Silence fell and Hinata grew into a nervous wreck with every second. His eyes wouldn't stop shifting across her face and for a moment, Hinata battled with the idea of reaching a hand up to her flaming cheeks and rub across it to remove anything that did not belong. Gradually, the urge to look at the asphalt won and Hinata dropped her gaze from his expressive blue eyes.

''Yeah,'' he cautioned. ''So, Hinata, would ya like to come up for a cup of ramen?''

Her head whipped up lightning fast. He was pointing a thumb towards the building to his right and it was only then that Hinata realized that she was standing next to Naruto's apartment. Oh, wow, how had she not noticed that? Had her subconscious led her to the place her crush lived on purpose? What did that mean? Was this purely coincidence or was Naruto so ingrained into her being that she could not stray from him, no matter how hard she was willing to try?

He was grinning with his eyes closed in that endearing way of his and her heart fluttered. She had half a mind to say no. As a matter of fact, Hinata could feel the gears in her legs shift for a quick sprint, because no way was she emotionally prepared for this, either. But the dead weight in her arms was prominent and cleaving. This was her chance to give him the gift. He needed to receive it. Naruto needed to know that she was thankful for him. Even if she could not control the strings of her life, she was glad that at one point their life strings had tangled. Hinata was set. Her life was settled and Hinata was willing to brave the storm for her family, but the only reason she was strong enough to go through with the engagement was because Naruto had taught her how to be strong… and what it meant to be brave.

''Oh—okay.''

His eyes widened brightly and a rapt grin uncurled his mouth. ''Great! Wait...'' His face compressed. '''S not a problem, right? 'S not like I'm gonna wake up screamin' in the middle of the night, 'cause Neji impaled my eye with a shuriken, yeah?''

She laughed, shaking her head as she walked towards his apartment door. He followed her.

''You shouldn't worry,'' she spoke quietly, curving her head so she could look at the orange cladded ninja strolling behind her with his hands propped in the pockets of his sweater. ''I wouldn't let him hurt you.''

She barely managed to catch the subtle shift in his eyes or the way his cautious frown turned into a little smile, but she did.

''You're really amazing, y'know?''

A flush crawled down her neck. If she didn't learn how to control this soon, before they reached a better lit room, Naruto would think she was a weird, man-made tomato.

They entered the apartment hallway and Hinata was assaulted with a chain of nerves. Though she had frequented this area of Naruto's home for...ah...academically purposes before, Hinata had never gone inside his building. Let alone his room; the place he slept and showered in and... oh.

Hinata raised a hand to a heated cheek.

So much for not being weird.

She allowed him to walk up the stairs in front of her, so he wouldn't notice that she knew his floor. She wasn't confident enough to feign oblivious if he questioned her pin-point direction skills, and with her spiraling nerves, Hinata was afraid that she would trip and do something stupid like fall into his arms.

They were there in a matter of seconds and before Hinata knew it, she was standing in Naruto's home.

He closed the door. ''Ah—sorry for the mess,'' Naruto quipped. ''Didn't have time to clean.''

''It's okay, Naruto-kun.'' She turned around to face him, a small smile on her face. There were a few clothes thrown haphazardly across the floor, boxes of ramen sat perched on top of a coffee table and if Hinata turned her head just the slightest bit to the right, she could gaze into Naruto's bedroom. The sheets were undone, drawers stood wide open and a trouser lay at the foot of the bed, but Hinata thought it was perfect.

She walked into his living room, eyes darting over the place and sealing this environment into her memory.

''Oh, well, okay. I'll go and grab us some food, then.'' He was gone in a flash, soundless like the intake of a breath.

Hinata took a seat on the edge of the brown sofa, unable to calm the pounding of her heart or her trembling, sweaty hands. Hinata relinquished her grip around the paper bag and wiped her sticky palms over her pants.

She could do this.

Just ramen, extend the scarf and be on the way. No biggie.

Her feet began tapping insistently on the carpet, nerves eating at her senses. It seemed as though she couldn't wait to leave his house with the way her hands were fumbling on top of her lap, reaching for the paper bag to grace her fingers against and pull them back into her lap to wring her hands together. Hinata couldn't stop moving, like a carousel. Anxiety was effectively kicking her butt and there was nothing she could do to steel the nerves. Hinata realized acutely that this may not have been such a good idea after all. It was very late in the evening and her father was expecting her home at ten pm. Time was closing in on the hour.

Actually, now that she thought about it, it wasn't necessary for her to wait for Naruto. Hinata could leave the package on top of his coffee table and greet the windowsill with a parting bustle; end the heart wrenching twists in the pit of her stomach that were fear and something akin to… eagerness?

Then again, Naruto had graciously invited her in and Hinata had been taught better manners than quick dashes from windows without so much as an excuse, let alone a proper goodbye.

Her eyes caught sight of a framed picture and her twitching stopped. Here, Hinata faced an obstacle that brought her short of breath. An older Naruto-lookalike stood next to a beautiful woman with long, red hair that flowed down to her ankles. They were embracing; an arm to curl around a waist and pull intimately closer. The woman was grinning and Hinata instantly recognized that smile; a trademark inheritance that knew nothing of the impossible reach between life and death. It was stubborn, Hinata thought, like the boy who marked her dreams late at night. The woman made her chest contract in comfort, familiarity and just shy from the butterflies that flew 'round her stomach when it was his face stretched and glowing.

Those were Naruto's parents, no doubt about it.

Now, Hinata understood why she couldn't be angry at the prospect of Naruto with someone else, because Naruto would be acknowledged for the wonderful person that she had always known him to be. He had a family, finally. He was happy, and for him to smile like his mother, now and always to come, would be worth every crack Hinata had to glue back together to prevent the frail organ inside her chest from collapsing in itself. Too be frank, Hinata didn't think she possessed the ability to ever be angry at Naruto.

''You okay?''

Hinata stiffened. He was so quiet! She hadn't heard him come in, but there he was with two steaming bowls of ramen in his hands in all his golden, halo-like glory. He walked to the coffee table and placed the bowls on the craft before flopping down next to her. The seat cracked of years of misuse, writhing against the extra body weight.

Hinata reddened at the sudden proximate. Naruto didn't seem to notice her temporarily mental shutdown, because he slanted closer, forgoing any boundaries between them just to look at her face as if he could jut out her worries and wring them to dust with closer inspection. He was considerate, but her mind was reeling with the gush of his breath against her cheeks that splayed a few of her hair strands to the side and the scent of soy sauce and miso lingering in his clothes. His forearms were propped on top of his knees and his blue eyes, usually vibrant, were worriedly shifting across her face, trying to pry out her insecurities for further examination.

''I—I—'' Oh no, Hinata was malfunctioning again. Just when she thought she could speak without the trepidations of her tongue. She breathed in shallowly, ears flaring and hands shaking as she tangled the fingers together. ''I was just looking at your p—parents' picture.''

''Oh,'' he said. He shifted his eyes to the woodwork on top of his lonesome desk. His eyes drooped, but a lazy smile crawled up his face. He looked like a man at peace. After all, sadness shouldn't follow them for the rest of their lives. ''Don't be sad, alright? They wouldn't want me to be and I don't want you to be, 'ttebayo! Y'know that automatically means that they wouldn't want ya to be sad,'' he shot her a grin. ''S'three against one, Hinata.''

She nodded vehemently. He was right.

''I'm not really sad, though,'' she tried and he quirked his eyebrow up. Hinata sought her words, arranged them accordingly and then spoke, ''I'm happy, too, because Naruto-kun has found a family. Sakura-chan, Sasuke-san—'' me; but then, only if he wants her to be. ''And everyone else in Konoha… All over the world, really. It makes me very happy.''

Silence fell with lurching limbs and suffocating fetters. She was shifting across the couch restlessly. The squeaking of furniture hinges became the loudest sound Hinata had ever heard.

''Happy,'' he mumbled, slightly confused.

She chanced a glance at the steaming bowl on the coffee table and wondered if she could just take it and start sipping. Surely Naruto wouldn't mind. Ramen tended to put him off-track.

Hinata brushed the thought away. She didn't trust her shaking hands to hold the meal without spilling it all over her lap.

''Ah—yes. We're friends and I want the best for you. Your happiness makes me happy.''

His confused stare was replaced with a broad smile. ''Leave it to Hinata to find happiness in someone else's happiness. You're amazing.''

Her heart razed in her chest. She shook her head quickly, readily denying this remark. ''You're amazing, Naruto-kun. You've always been, despite the odds and despite what many had thought. You became who you wanted to be and soon you'll be Hokage, because Naruto-kun can do it.'' She reached for his hands and to her surprise, he was the one to stiffen, a shy heat crawling up to his cheeks; faint and licit. Hinata wasn't sure what had come over her to be so brazen. Perhaps it was the prospect of never getting this chance again. A wedded heiress would surely spend most of her time at home, and for a bit, Hinata reveled in her slight act of insurgency. To add a decision in a hand full of choices that had been pre-determined. This time by herself and for herself. No one could take that from her. ''I had always watched you. Wanted to be like you. I've always admired you and—and if I'm amazing, then it's because of you.'' Hinata nodded firmly, proud, and released his hands as if they had burned her flesh instead of sideling her up with the kind of warmth that ushered goosebumps on and off her skin.

He looked down at the space left between their hands. Hinata realized sheepishly that Naruto hadn't moved too much from her face since he'd sat down, only a sliver of paper could breech them. Naruto wasn't known for keeping personal space. If anything, the closer Naruto could get, the better. Still, this was hardly anything Hinata had ever seen him do. Even by Naruto's standards this lack of space was just too close, and Hinata worried internally if the slightest movement would vaporize what was left of her air and fit them together like matching puzzle pieces.

Her heart thundered at the thought.

''Thank you,'' he murmured.

It was an instant desire to refute him. It was Hinata who wanted to thank him after all he had done for her. Naruto was her hero. He had made her into the woman she was today, and if anything about her was worthy of praise—his praise—then he had only himself to thank for it. But as his heavenly blue eyes glistered, crystal embed and besotted at the utterance of his gratitude, Hinata couldn't help but leave the subject unspoken. For whatever it counted, Hinata meant… something to him. In as much as Naruto was important to her, Hinata held a similar degree of significance that it almost moved Naruto to tears. Besides, Hinata was aware of the tension between them that was not awkward, but fragile in order to maintain what was left of the quaint peace.

Before Hinata lost her nerve she reached for the paper bag behind her and extended it to him. At the sight of the bag Naruto's eyebrows flew into his hairline and his mouth fell open. The same package she tried to hide mere minutes ago was presented to him as a gift.

She chose to ignore the fact that he had a scarf around his neck; a blue one, stripped with white and fitted snug around his throat. Although Naruto was already home and the room temperature didn't require the assistance of thick fabric, Naruto still wore it. Clearly the object was dear to him.

''For me?'' He asked, pressing his eyebrows together in confusion as he eyed the bag.

Hinata nodded when he looked at her for confirmation, and took it, wrinkling the bag in order to pull the mystery gift out. It was longer than his blue scarf, stretched far and low as Naruto held it up to look it over, but it didn't have any marks on top of it. It was a work of rope; soft like firm clouds, dainty and slightly fuzzy to ward of the cold. Hinata wondered if Naruto remembered; if the short silence was spent recalling a memory; if all words were empty in the face of this gesture and if meaning was allowed to be soundless.

''My mom once said,'' he started, sounding out of breath and absently rubbing a thumb over the wool. ''That she hated her hair. The color. Length, too. It stooped way down to her toes, y'know? She couldn't stand it, but after meeting my dad things'd changed. She said it became her own red thread of fate.''

''Then this can be your red thread of fate,'' she said it before the full meaning could register and when it did, Hinata blushed at the implication. Since he had giving her his full attention Hinata couldn't back down, although she continued with a stutter. ''Tha—that I'm here... and I—'' she looked at her lap, fingers digging deep into her thighs. Hinata cared so much for him—so much—and Naruto needed to know now more than ever that no matter the situation, no matter who she was tasked to be or promised to be with, Hinata would always be there for him. And that could not be tethered. They were bound together, Hinata would reach for the ninja in orange if only to let him know that she was still there. The scarf was prove of her undying support. It was their own red thread of fate.

Hinata felt his stare on her face glaring like the first peak of sunlight. ''I'm here for N—Naruto-kun.'' She filled the edges of her mouth with a tiny smile and looked up, bangs falling into her eyes.

A pink hue began dusting the bridge of Naruto's nose and like domino effect—Hinata's heart thumping in ridiculous speed—heat filled the untouched edges of her face.

''T—thank you, Hinata. A lot.'' Naruto held onto the fabric tightly as if he was afraid it would grow legs and run. ''I remember, y'know? About the woods. That's where this is from, right? You—you kept it all this time. Back then it was torn, I think, but ya fixed it,'' he added dully.

''It meant a lot to me.''

The ramen was forgotten. Naruto's eyes muddied into a shaded mazarine and Hinata, on high alert, noted the slow descend to her face. The way his eyes, golden blue, zeroed in on her lips and how his soft and salty breath glided into her parted mouth as if it was returning home. She could taste him on her tongue, warm. Eager in the slighted way air fluttered from his lips and teased her mouth.

Even so, as they neared to a heart stopping close, Hinata's senses kicked in. She rose deftly, feet struggling to inch away from her life-time crush.

She could hear his breath still immediately, only now realizing just how loud it was. Hinata was almost afraid to look back. She wasn't prepared for what lay behind her.

''I—it's getting late. I should—''

''Can't you stay,'' Naruto rose with her and whispered into her hair, seemingly unaware of the mass induced shivers his breath coaxed on her skin, ''for a lil' bit?''

''M—my father must be worried.'' She purposefully added that last bit, knowing that Naruto would be too scared to go against her father's wishes and frozen glower.

And she was right. Naruto stumbled backwards deliriously. The back of his knees bumped against the couch as he attempted to throw his unusual behavior off with a shake of his head.

''Oh, yeah!'' He exclaimed. Hinata turned around to face him. His cheeks had pinked considerably. He was shifting his eyes across her face every now and then as he looked for his words. Unable to quiet down his sight, it would fall down to her lips like her mouth kept the words he needed hidden. ''Can't have Neji orchestrating my murder, right? Or ya dad for that matter,'' he joked.

She tested a smile, tangling her hands together. ''Goodnight, Naruto-kun.''

'''Night... Hinata—hey, Hinata,'' she paused on her way to the door and raised her head to look up into his eyes. He had again breeched the space between them, but he stood a foot away, nervously bobbing on the heels of his feet as if he didn't trust an immobile body. ''Do ya—can we hang out, sometime?'' He raised a hand to the back of his head, grinning crookedly and albeit a little shyly. ''Y'know, just you and me? When you have time, that is! And only if ya want to,'' he laughed nervously

She had to contain the squeals bubbling inside her chest. It was simply a request to hang out as friends! Hinata could still be friends with Naruto, and he hung out with plenty of girls, too. She was nothing special.

''I would like that, Naruto-kun.''

A smile blossomed on his face and Hinata's heart jumpstarted just to speed away.

''Okay,'' he murmured. ''Great!''

...

She found Naruto standing at the oak tree that stood proudly, tall and broad, meters away from the Hyūga compound. The leafs of the tree had withered away, branches sharp and brittle of days forgotten by people and lost in the cold. Patches of moss littered the tree trunk in a flippant endeavor to give it some color, but it failed in comparison to the man with the orange trousers and black and orange jacket leaning against the thick bark. He was staring at the forest next to him, seemingly unware of her presence, but Hinata knew of Naruto's impeccable sensory skills. He must have been aware of her presence the moment she stepped out of the compound on her way to one of the training fields to uphold her blossoming battle skills. For his goofiness Naruto knew, like no other, how to keep a clear mind at all times. Today, however, Naruto seemed lost in thought and it was indeed an odd sight to see him test his toes on anything Hyūga's soil. Even after all Naruto had done for Konoha, many of the Hyūga, including her father, were still wary of the orange novelty. It seemed as though Neji was the only one who had managed to grow out of his spite for the Uzumaki boy.

Hinata was a different case, of course. She had never hated Naruto to begin with. For her, love had always festered in small amounts until it had gradually overflowed.

Still, she approached him cautiously, heart thundering in her chest as the vision of him expanded. She could barely breathe properly or contain her jittery limbs as she neared him.

When Hinata stood mere centimeters away, Naruto looked up with his trademark grin on place and pocketed his hands. As she had thought, Naruto seemed neither shocked nor confused at the sight of her. He must have been aware of her lingering presence for quite some time now.

''N—Naruto-kun?'' She asked curiously. ''What are you doing here?''

He shrugged helplessly, ''We're gonna hang out, remember? I haven't forgotten.''

It was just yesterday when Hinata had given him the scarf, and though the fabric was vacant from his neck today in favor of the blue embroidered, Naruto was still here. For some reason this young man was adamant to spend some time with her. Could it mean that yesterday was just as important to him as it was to her?

It was a silly, selfish thought, so Hinata quickly brushed it away in favor of spending some time with Naruto.

''I was going to go to one of the training grounds. Do you want to accompany me?''

''Oh, yeah! I do wanna see how much stronger you've gotten. Could we—ah—after, grab something to eat? If you want, I mean, yeah?''

She nodded vehemently. She was prone to hunger after a session of training.

''I'd love to, Naruto-kun.''

…

Just as Hinata had suspected, she was nowhere near as good in combat as Naruto. She had managed to hold her own, but Naruto was faster and stronger. Though she had gotten several of hits in, even going as far as to cut his chakra points, Naruto was still very clever. He knew her skills; had fought plenty of Hyūga in his time to know the dos and don'ts. A great ninja acquainted himself with the strengths of his opponent and endeavored to create a great defense. Naruto proved to be exactly that kind of ninja and was a useful teacher. He gave her pointers on where to hit and how to defuse. He steered her forward with kindness and an almost childlike rapture. His voice was very gentle, often playful; a streak he couldn't, and Hinata wouldn't want him to, wipe out of his speech. Every now and then Naruto would come to the conclusion that the best way to guide her into perfecting a skill was to touch her hand or hold her ankle. The skin on skin contact never failed to make her blush or her heart to skip a beat. Although Naruto's reactions were vastly different than her own. While her eyes shifted to look at his concentrated limbs, the flex of his fingers around her arm or the movement of his lips as the rumble of his voice bellowed, Naruto would stare at her with calculating eyes as if he was trying to venture into the brain of the unknown and pick out unheard of words.

They had always been two polar opposites that had somehow drifted into a compatible entity.

After, they had taken it upon themselves to go to Ichiraku's for ramen and had talked the whole way through and during their meal. Accurately speaking it was more Naruto doing the talking and Hinata bobbing her head, commenting insightfully or laughing. Hinata was laughing a lot, she realized. His goofy antics and his stroll through memory lane brought up the times Hinata had cherished the spiraling, out of contro troublemaker from Konohagakure. Naruto was a lot different now, more mature. He still had his moments; Naruto could never shake off his silliness, but he had an air about himself as he walked with his arms curled around the back of his head or sat down with his arms flailing and face twisting to fit a joke that spoke of seasoned and awareness. Only the life of a shinobi could do that to a person, but Hinata cherished and loved this Naruto, too.

Their bowls sat empty on the counter, hers but one and Naruto's a pile of white glass and chopsticks. Hinata had his attention. Not long ago, the focused sight of his gaze would have caused her to reel in a sure way of energy depletion. Hinata's heart would accelerate madly until her brain shut down and her legs gave out, but the training sessions had eased out Hinata's nerves. Naruto made her comfortable. He asked questions and allowed her time to speak. He was kind, clueless and frowned outrageously—though, if ever asked, Hinata would have said it was beyond cute—when she told him that she had never gotten on top of the renowned Hokage Monument.

''Eh? But that's the way to get in touch with your inner shinobi!''

It was also the way to get hunted down like pack of pariahs by ninja officers.

''It's not allowed,'' she said with a voice quiet and hoarse from all the laughter. ''I tend to shy away from things that are forbidden.''

''That does it!'' Naruto shouted, slamming a hand on top of the counter and dragging all the eyes in the little café to the pair. Ayame shook her head at him, but didn't falter as she placed a steaming bowl of ramen in front of a starving customer. ''I'm gonna make ya live a little. From now on, Hinata,'' he grinned conspiratorially, making an anxious Hinata shiver. Something deviously handsome and insanely tantalizing in his smile caused her abdomen to clench, ''you and I are partners in crime!''

''Naruto, don't involve Hinata in your crazy stunts,'' Ayame scolded, rubbing a wet bowl with a green, speckled with red, cloth. ''She's innocent.''

''Don't worry,'' he said, wrapping his arm around Hinata's shoulder in a showcase of companionship, but it did little to quench the swirls in her stomach. Her face was sure to be as red as a strawberry. Naruto pulled her to his side, hand dangling just a little ways off from the curve of her breast. ''I'll make sure she's safe, believe it!'' Then he swiveled his head to look down at her and uncover her assent, not having counted for just how close he had pulled her in. Their faces were millimeters apart, noses close enough to smell the tasty ramen they had both consumed. She was hungry again, eager to taste more of this ramen that was something a tad different; a bit more Naruto and less Ichiraku. Her heart trembled at the sight of his shifting pupils flattening in front of her and irises darkening without either of them making a move.

The heady moment felt oddly like yesterday's short time spent together, when he had bowed closer for what Hinata feared to call anything but a platonic aspiration to understand the woman he had invited into his world.

''Oh—okay,'' Hinata whispered softly, fighting her way back on track. Naruto blinked once. ''I'll do it. Let's do it.''

Staggeringly, Naruto removed his arm from her shoulders, looking like a lost boy trying to gather his wits after being scolded for trying to snatch a cookie from the cookie jar.

He gathered himself and turned brightly towards Ayame. ''This calls for celebration! Ayame, ten more bowls of beef ramen!''

Ayame shook her head with a sigh, walking towards her father to give out the order. The owner of Ichiraku smiled endearingly at the energetic boy who had easily fallen into a vibrant story of the time he had performed an 'awesome prank' on Sasuke-san.

At one point, Hinata giggled.

''What?'' Naruto asked as silence had fallen while he tried to conjure the image of an enraged looking Uchiha Sasuke.

''I just thought that Naruto-kun hasn't changed much after all this time, and I really love that.''

He froze comically, eyes wide and arms spread akimbo as he stared at her. Little by little, Naruto began to thaw, allowing his shoulders to drop and a gentle smile to fill the corners of his face.

To this, the sure-to-become-Hokage-one-day, told her: ''Thank you.'' It were only two words, but it seemed to carry the weight of many. Jam-packed with unvoiced emotion that held onto Naruto's voice greedily.

''No,'' she whispered back, grappling kindly at the bowl Ayame placed in front of her. ''Thank you,'' Hinata blew into the hot air sizzling about her face, before taking a lusty bite from the hot strings.

…

Hinata drew the flats of her hands across the soft, silken fabric of the red kimono which was decorated with purple and pink flowers. The waist of the dress tightened around her ribs as Hanabi entangled the ribbons in a flourish bow behind her back, ensuring the cloth to cling to the shape of her body. The mirror reflected the vision of a young woman in a traditional get-up, hair roped in a well-done braid, twisted in a thick bun and pinned low at the side of her head. Several strands of Hinata's bangs were brushed behind her left ear so the right side of her forehead was flanked in what looked like side-swept bangs. Her eyes were heavy with a reasonable amount of eyeliner and mascara. The sweep of scarlet on her lips was a prominent presence and Hinata frequently fought the urge to wipe her mouth clean with the back of her hand or lick the cosmetic off. Hanabi told her that swallowing it could cause a stomachache.

Her little sister worked in silence. Hanabi ushered Hinata into a pair of purple slippers, busied herself with streaking out nonexistent wrinkles from the kimono and as a finishing touch, pushed a sliver of long, blue hair back behind Hinata's ear.

''There,'' Hanabi said, looking passed her eldest sister's shoulder in order to stare at the mirror. ''All done. Now you look like a real princess.''

They were just in time. The Otsutsuki heir would be here in a few minutes, father had confided. The days had trickled by slowly on their way to the upcoming meeting day. Her palms were sweaty and her heart trashed crazed behind the confines of her ribcage, but even so, Hinata willed herself to be strong. Today, the young Hyūga heiress would be brave. Fear was a guarantee, but she would not allow it to shackle her. It had never kept Naruto from prospering and neither would it hold Hinata down.

''Eldest sister,'' Hanabi suddenly said, pulling the heiress out of her reverie. ''You're trembling.''

Hinata looked down at her pale fingers. Indeed, she was shaking. She clenched her hands together and pushed them against the curve of her thighs. The young woman inhaled a deep breath, trying to overpower the anxiety with sheer force of will. No one should be ashamed of fear; there were few things that came naturally and fear was one of them.

''It's okay, Hanabi-chan Just a bit of nerves.''

Their eyes met in the reflective glass and Hinata could tell with ease that the young girl beside her in the golden kimono with pink swirls and flowers, did not believe a word Hinata had said.

She placed a consoling hand on Hanabi's shoulder, looked down into similar eyes and smiled encouragingly, but for who this dispatched strength was aimed at was a mystery to the both of them. Then, Hinata moved away, holding her back straight and reminding herself to keep breathing.

She walked down the stairs, one cautious step at a time. Her slippers clacked wetly against her heels and rang sharply as they touched the treads. Hinata gripped the railing in order to aid her weak legs; to remind herself as long as the cold wood of the stairs ate at her skin, she was still in control.

She spotted him at the finally three treads, a clear one-of-a-kind among several of dark haired and pale eyed people. His hair was as white as the snow that had yet to litter the grounds of Konoha, his eyes were a warm green, his voice was gentle and his speech formal as he spoke to her father and addressed Neji appropriately. He didn't seem peeved at the sight of Neji-niisan and Hinata relinquished a fear she never knew she held. Neji was very dear to her. The thought of another family member disliking him churned her stomach.

The stranger sensed her presence with a stiffening halt and looked towards the stairs. He faltered in his speech. His pupils dilated and just softly, with a voice barely managing to inch from his mouth, excused himself to her father and Neji; who had both taken keen interest at her fiancé's reaction. He didn't seem much older than her, perhaps about two years, but he carried himself as though he had seen the vast world longer than he had been alive. Here he ended—quietly in front of the foothold of the treads while awaiting her descend—a slender man with skin as pale as smoke and hair air-blown, curled fashionably around his head to frame a delicate face.

Hinata was struck by the sudden urge to throw off her slippers and run to anywhere but here. Nevertheless, she held strong and found strength with the sturdy wood beneath her clammy fingertips. She gripped the railing tighter as she neared the floor, the tips of her feet finally landing.

The man bowed deeply. He snaked his grip around the fingertips of her right hand and fluttered a soft kiss on top of her knuckles.

''My princess,'' he whispered as he straightened his back. He was slightly taller than Naruto, so he had to keep his back just a bit curved in order to look at her face. He was too close for comfort, even though his voice was polite and his actions where honed and well-mannered. ''My name is Otsutsuki Toneri. It is a pleasure to meet you, Hinata of the Hyūga.''

Her own manners kicked in swiftly. ''The pleasure is all mine, Otsutsuki-san.''

''Please, Toneri,'' he smiled easily. ''I would like for us to be comfortable around each other.''

''Yes, Toneri-san.''

She ventured a look at her father and found that he had his chin raised and arms crossed behind his back in reverence. The thought of the famed leader of the Hyūga household baring pride for the otherwise, good for nothing eldest daughter, swelled up her chest. Still, an aftertaste hid behind her tongue and Hinata, try as she might, could not swallow it away.

''Now that the pleasantries have been exchanged, let us move into the dining room and continue our conversation there,'' her father said.

''That would be favorable, wouldn't it, Hinata-sama?'' Toneri had turned around to face her father, but as he addressed her, his face had curved slightly back and a small smile twitched his lips.

''Yes, Toneri-san.''

They moved into the dining room and took seats on the chairs surrounding an overly large table. Toneri sat in front of her, her father sat at the head of the table and Neji had excused himself to allow the three to converse in peace.

The pace was pleasant. Toneri had commendable interaction skills that kept her discerning father intent on listening as they waited for their meal. Their conversation revolved around politics. Toneri had a very insightful view regarding the exercising position of their Hokage and the hieratically organization of the local clans in Konoha that had rendered even Hinata interested. Silently she wondered what Naruto would think of Toneri's views, but she found herself quickly trying to suppress a giggle at the prospect of Naruto listening to anything political. He would have a drawn out, bored look on his face as he contemplated the quickest way to cut off his life force with a kunai. Looking at it now, Hinata realized that the two men were very different. Whereas Toneri had a calm and collected air about him, a cool reverence in his build that was not condescending, but a bit more heeding, with only one look at Naruto it was clear that Naruto was a very energetic, spontaneous and happy man. An unlikely ninja who wore bright orange. It was true that the sort of man Toneri was stemmed undulating with Hinata's personality. And yet, for all that the green eyed, odd smiling man was, Toneri wasn't the man Hinata wanted.

Thinking about Naruto now caused a stomachache.

''—the demur case of jutsu is that it makes us dependent. Daily activities have been transformed into an enhanced skill set. To clean the dishes or to mop the floor cannot be done without the aid of jutsu. Even to sow a cloth requires strain now that we have other means to perfect the task. With but one skillset we, the human race, are rendered predictable, but beyond a doubt lethal. For something that had been designed to protect our nation, it has curiously altered into a weapon that has no other means but destruction.'' His voice was calm and collected, but there was no filtering the passion Toneri emitted. His tone grew heated, markedly complacent like speaking about dreams did to people; made them delirious and starved of desire, ''Taijutsu is a clear example of an enforced skill that harms our fellow man. This body skill's main objective is physical strength. A sure way to defeat an opponent by inflicting bodily harm.''

Hyūga Hiashi's frozen façade cracked the slightest with a small pull of his eyebrows and the slack of his jaw, almost imperceptibly easing his frozen glower, except from the eyes of his daughter. She had become well accustomed with her father's features to spot his blossoming interest. It was like distinguishing a color pattern with her Byakugan. Her father could not hide his expressions when he so obviously looked like a different man. It was odd seeing her father so interested in something that could potentially eradicate the very foundation of jutsu while he claimed, and had so neatly built, an existence on chakra. Hinata must have missed something essential tuning the two men out.

''And how, may I ask, do you hope to change the current state of our society?'' Her father inquired, just the slightest bit suspicious.

Hinata did not like the glint spiraling in Toneri's gaze. His eyelids drooped to hang over his large, unblinking emerald eyes. His smile was thin lipped, cramped around his oval face in a way that made cold sweat run down her spine. Only a man with a plan could rest his shoulders to a subject he felt so earnest for. He could be at ease knowing that he had the means to change the world.

But it would only be a fool to spread his cards face forward across the table, and Toneri-san was no such fool. He had intelligent eyes and his smile, though often and small, was secretive. The truth lay locked and hidden behind his lips, comfortable to wait in its little cavern, Hinata was sure of it. ''Hiashi-sama, I am but a man of dreams who speaks his wishes freely. A world that lives off its habits cannot be changed, lest you rustle it's foundation, but what is a man without his foundation? The best I can do is change the world from within. One at a time,'' he directed his sight to her and she flinched reflexively. ''Through a new generation comes forth an anew world. Don't you think so, Hinata-sama?''

She felt the weight of their stares upon her, forcing her to keep from shuffling her feet or fumbling with her hands. She knew what Toneri wanted her to say, but Hinata did not agree. This was their world. This was what they had come to know and love. It was an imperfect world, yes, but it was beautiful, nonetheless. And Hinata believed that one could never know good if they had not come to lose it. It was the nuisances in life that made the good moments taste all the more sweeter.

That, was what she believed.

She bit the tip of her tongue to keep from speaking her mind. The clan head would not like that. A wife had to be pliant, back straight and head bowed in a manner of subservience and kindness. But most of all a wife's words were meant to be equal to her husband's. A perfect pair were those who saw eye to eye. The leaders of a clan were supposed to be compatible. Hinata's mother wasn't like that. Though quiet in nature, the woman had visions, dreams and wishes that she was not afraid to utter out loud. A lot had changed after her mother's passing to the point that Hinata had found herself at a bifurcation of fear and incompetence. Her silent nature had grown and rooted. It had staked claim on her mind and soul. There were certain things that could never be jostled. As it was, the human race was haunted by memories.

Her unease had festered with limp strings around her heart. She could not shake off the fear that oozed in drips. ''Yes, Toneri-san,'' she breezed quietly, staring at the table.

She could hear the smile straining against his words. ''I am happy we see eye to eye, Hinata-sama.''

The servants came in to place their food on top of the table. They huddled around quietly to keep from disturbing her father's and Toneri's conversation, which had picked up its gentle pace again. The fumes of her meal wafted upwards and drifted passed her eyes. It was hot. It was better to allow it to cool for a bit instead of burning her tongue. Manners were important, after all. A lady must not appear covetous.

Father enjoyed the snow haired man's company. He wasn't restless, not after finding a good partner for his eldest daughter; a perfect heir for a prospering clan and a potent parent for his posterity.

Her father was content.

Toneri would be a good husband.

…

She left the mansion still cladded in the new kimono that Hanabi had hiked her in, after Toneri had taken his leave an hour ago, to get some fresh air. Dinner had been a suffocating event with Toneri casting her glances twice a minute, short from inquiring her about his adamant views and a little more than curious when his eyesight dwelled across the sliver of skin at the hollow of her throat, smoothed down to the slight gap leading to her collarbone. She hadn't gotten any wiser of the man her father had asked her to marry, if only for his warped view of the world and his questionable motives. He didn't have the Byakugan, if the shape and color of his eyes were any prove, yet her father deemed the Otsutsukiheir equipped enough to create a bloodline beyond their imagination. What was she missing? What did the mysterious clan heir possess that was so powerful? Hinata was almost afraid to know. Her father called it the Tenseigan, but surely this Kekkei Genkai couldn't be so powerful that it was worth incinerating Hinata's future—

No.

She was not allowed to think so selfishly. Her future was the clan's future. Her life was their life. She lived to protect her family and build them up. If sacrificing her virtue for her clan was necessary, then so be it. Hinata would do it.

She tightly wrapped her arms around her torso when her insides began to churn savagely. She would follow their wishes reluctantly, her body relayed. Her heart wasn't in it and however important selflessness ought to be, it still wasn't fair. A million pinpricks were impaling her organs, breathing proved dependent on her sobriety and without it, Hinata could hardly keep standing. The ground was sturdy beneath her feet, but it felt odd; as her life grew unstable, the world carried on stouthearted.

''H—Hinata?''

She whirled around to the voice with a fervent pounding heart that only reacted so painfully disproportionate at the sound of his voice. Naruto was a lot quieter than usual, gingerly inching out her name and supporting his weight on the oak tree that Hinata had subconsciously walked towards. He stepped out of the thin shadows created by the branches, hand curled tightly against the bark while his eyes slowly trailed down her form. The longer he stared, the worse the strain in his hand became, tensing and flexing against the tree trunk as if the wood kept him stable. His eyes roamed the round shape of her hips, closed in on the expanse of her chest and finally halted at her face.

Nervously, Hinata dropped her arms and grabbed her left elbow with her right hand, hugging her chest against the slender curve of her upper arm. Naruto was here again. It was late afternoon. The sun had started filling the sky with a molten gold stretch and choky spots of red. The light still gleamed vividly around them so anyone could see him—Toneri could have seen him, or worse, Naruto could have seen Toneri. Hinata felt light headed just thinking about those two meeting each other.

''N—Naruto-kun, how long have you been standing here?''

Naruto was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth repeatedly, simply to close it again, gasping for words and desperately trying to figure out what to say and straining to speak. He kept so air-stifling quiet, Hinata started to fidget nervously with her feet. Naruto was blatantly staring at her. Maybe it was because of the kimono? Was it too revealing, or was it the make-up; did Hinata look like an ungodly succubus?

''I'm sorry,'' she decided then, staring at her toes.

His reaction was quick, waving his hands in front of him. ''What? No! What are you apologizing for?'' Naruto pushed himself off the tree and took several steps closer. Hinata could see his toes poking from his sandals.

''I seem to have caused you distress,'' she settled on.

''You haven't, Hinata—Hi-na-ta,'' Naruto reached for her face with an index finger and thumb when she didn't respond to the way he stretched her name, and curled his fingers around her chin. She was too stupefied to resist his touch, simply because Uzumaki Naruto was actually touching her face, and it was short from the curve of her mouth. It was a surreal occurrence that had, too many times, crossed her shaking eyes in an intimate dream. A blush covered the base of his nose as he realized their proximate, but he didn't falter. His coarse fingertip traced the outline of her cupid's bow like the fine hairs of a brush, down to the dip beneath her bottom lip and rested there. Nerves rumbled inside her chest and her tummy swirled around madly, but the moment was sweet. ''I'm sorry. I'm acting like an idiot. I was just surprised. You look pretty,'' he added in a final, croaked whisper.

''Oh,'' was her unintelligent retort.

Oh, indeed. Naruto thought she was pretty. Her face flushed crimson red. Hinata must have died and gone to heaven.

''I guess I'm interrupting something, huh?''

She blinked stupidly. He was so close it seemed like the air between them was disappearing in favor of their gravitating bodies.

''I had—''

Hinata started out of the moment and came crashing down.

Oh sheesh, they were this close in front of the mansion. Her father would have Naruto's head if he happened to peak between the drapes of his studies and over the courtyard. She couldn't risk Naruto's life like that. What was she thinking?

Hinata moved out of his embrace, leaving Naruto's hand to drop limply down his side. Her recoil didn't seem to affect him, mainly since Naruto didn't seem quite aware of anything around him.

''—a meeting of sort,'' she added in an afterthought.

He nodded, blinking his haze away. ''I should've asked if you had time, I guess. I sort'f thought that if I just came here you'd be available, or somethin'? Not that I expect you to wait around for me!'' Naruto amended uneasy, waving his hands as if to clear any misinterpretation. ''It was more like an idle hope? You know, I thought I could gather up some courage and knock on the door, but that didn't really end up where I was aiming for… I chickened out, ha-ha.''

Hinata restrained a gasp. Naruto might have been standing here for a few minutes or even hours waiting for a woman he wasn't sure would ever come.

Her heart skipped an odd beat.

''I promised I'd take you to the Hokage Monument, remember? I thought today was as good as any other day.''

She tangled her hands together.

''But… you seem… busy,'' he noted dubiously. ''So, how 'bout tomorrow?''

Hinata looked into his hopeful blue eyes and realized she could never say 'no' to him. Besides, wasn't it only fair that someone who was about to lose their freedom could spend the little free time they had with the one person they loved? Could Hinata be granted this wish; was she finally allowed to do what she desired?

It was a selfish thought, but where was her selflessness supposed to end?

''Tomorrow sounds great, Naruto-kun.''

A smile spread across his face. It was shyer than his usual boisterous grin, timid and innocent. He was tentatively trying out an unfamiliar emotion that caused Hinata's tummy to vault up. ''I'll see you here, then, at the oak tree, around two?''

''Yes, I'll be here.''

''Great!'' He began walking backwards and bumped haphazardly against the tree, head snapping back with a thunk. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth, muffling the eek that slipped through at the sight of what must have been a very painful collision. ''D—don't worry,'' he tried. ''Gotta thick head.'' To prove his point, Naruto knocked on the offended spot a few times with a lopsided grin. ''Two it is, tomorrow,'' and proceeded onwards with unperturbed steps. Slowly, the number one unpredictable ninja rubbed the back of his head and repressed a wince. ''I'll show you the whole of Konoha, Hinata, believe it! There's nothing like the view on top of the monument, I'll tell you. It'll blow your mind!''

''I'm sure it will,'' she said, smiling against her palm at his (failed) attempt of appearing unruffled.

He stumbled across the grass, managing with flailing arms and shuffling legs to keep his balance. ''Ah—crap—shit—!'' Naruto grumbled underneath his breath, trying to maintain balance and succeeding… barely. He mumbled a few choice words, dragging out the kind of colorful expletives that would make even Hyūga Hiashi flush strawberry red. ''Tomorrow. Promised,'' and then, with a rickety stature and a heated face, Naruto disappeared into the bushes.

Her hand dropped from her mouth as she stared at the last spot Naruto had been standing on until night emerged and cladded her shape in darkness.

Hinata would restlessly watch the sky later that night. Unable to sleep.

…

…

…

TBC