The first time Hiashi suggest running away with his brother, they are all of six years young, with dark eyes surrounded by red rims and a vast night sky above them.

He is a young, foolish child with hopes and dreams he'll never achieve and as shy as his to-be born daughter.

Hiashi watches the moon, back against his sniffling younger brother's back. A slim hand reaches out, grasping for the moon and searching, wishing for a way to reach it.

His voice is a hesitant whisper, despite them both having checked their surrounding with the byakugan twice.

"W-w-we can run away," hope laces his voice, waiting for his brother's answer.

Hizashi winces, shoulders hunching before facing the ground.

It takes a while for him to answer, his voice shaky yet playful, "And what would we do when we leave the village, Yashi-nii?"

Hiashi's eyes are bright at the question, his young mind filled with huge aspirations.

"W-w-we'll s-s-start a village, l-l-l-like th-the-the Shodaime an-and the Nidaime, but we'll m-m-make sure wars n-n-never happen,"Hiashi's stutter is noticeable, but his voice is above the usual mutter he used around their parents.

"We can make an academy stronger than Konoha's, show all these ninja's what the true meaning of the will of the fire means," Hizashi whispers wistfully behind his brother, his gaze never leaving the nearby river.

"U-un, w-w-we'll be the g-g-greatest Kage's ever, stronger than even the Sannin," Hiashi's voice is determined, his stutter barely even present in the ending of his sentence.

"We'll leave everything behind, make a village so great you'll hear stories about it."

"E-every-o-one will b-b-b-be f-fr-free there."

"No rules."

"N-n-no t-tr-tradit-traditions."

"Just freedom."

"And ho-hopes."

With small voices, they go on longer, finishing each other's sentences and making ridiculous regulations after ridiculous regulations. Shoes required in every establishment, even homes and manors. No eggs to be served at any restaurant within a five meter radius of the Kage tower. Sweet tooth Fridays every second month.

When the duo finally face each other, Hizashi's eyes no longer water and his hands barely shake.

They both have grins on their faces. Hizashi's small and pained thorough the clenching of his teeth and the pounding of his head, Hiashi's bright above the gaze of his younger twin brother.

"We should head back," Hiashi doesn't stutter, his eyes soft, his hand outstretched towards his brother.

Nodding slowly, as not to jolt his already pounding head, Hizashi takes his brother's cold, chubby fingers and runs with his brother to their manor.

Years later, Hiashi will still remember the crimson droplets dotting his younger brother's bandages and the stiff posture Hizashi held. He'd remember that conversation and wonder a million what if's at once.

The second time he suggests running away, they're eleven with bloodied hands and cold, dull eyes.

They're both chunin, both revered as prodigies. Hiashi's shy and antisocial posture had done nothing but alienate him from his peers, his voice though no longer accompanied by a stutter, was still quiet, a polite disconnection between himself and regular people. Hizashi is cold but admired, people would whisper about his strength in physical and mental fortitude.

Yet no matter how prodigious they may seem, a first kill is still a first kill. Even if together they had both taken down some eleven enemy nin.

Hiashi walks with a cold facial, his heart black, tainted by the weight of his actions. Per his parents teaching though, none of that appears on his face and his posture is ridged, but he never strays from his teammates side. Hizashi is noticeably distraught to the elder Hyūga's eyes, though he walks far from his team, his feet always seem to carry him to the Uchiha's side and his fingers flex constantly, as if preparing for an attack.

Their teammates for the mission do not look any better than they, the Uchiha and red-headed girl from Hizashi's team were shakily supporting each other, vomit still in small chunks of the long haired girls bangs. Tsume and Shibi do not talk on his side, but he feels the anger radiating off of them by spades and can hear the newly born Kuromaru howling into his master hood. Shibi is silent as ever, but his bugs flitter across Hiashi's skin as if to say 'mine', as if to prove he won't let anyone close to him be taken again. Only Miki-sensei walks normally behind them, a bitter reminder that his sensei was no longer nor would she ever again be present.

Miki-Sensei dismisses them as soon as they reach the gates, voice solemn.

His team takes turns looking at each other hesitantly, before they nod. Tsume leaves with a biting word at Hiashi's expense, Shibi leaves without taking his kikaichu and Hiashi nods at them both, eyes sharp but steady. It feels like a false attempt at normalcy, but they say nothing of it. Behind them Hizashi's team huddle together, he doesn't glance back at them.

Hiashi shunshins to the clear out that he and his brother would occupy in their younger years, having no particular vigour to go home. Without hesitating, he strips in a way that only an all seeing Hyuuga could be comfortable doing.

Not even a minute after he descends into the water, does Hizashi make it to the clearing.

They stare at each other with broken eyes, giving only the barest nod of acknowledgement. Hizashi, with the same idea as his elder brother, dives into the water, only taking care to kick his sandals off and strip off his tops. His shorts stay firm in their place.

While continuously scrubbing at his finger-tips, letting them bleed red and raw and attempting to let his fingers feel more pain than his heart does, Hiashi gives his brother a contemplative look.

"Hizashi…?" He queries silently.

Piercing eyes watch him in question.

"Remember… when we used to come here every night we'd always talk about the future and how bright it seemed…Do- do you still see that future?" He takes care not to stutter, enunciating each word carefully, yet he dives under the water soon after, only his eyes and nose visible.

"Hiashi-sama, you speak as though those nights were long since lost, surely you do not believe that the span of say, two years have changed our ambitious so radically," Hizashi takes care in not actually answering the question.

"It was not only two years ago, brother, it was two years, eleven kills and a promotion ago," Hiashi's words are curt, a feat drilled into him by his mother's strict teachings.

Hizashi is still, mind furious and wrongfully vindictive. He stifles a grunt and barely keeps composure.

"With all due respect Hiashi-sama, I speak with the utmost sincerity when I say that you may be exaggerating the scenario here," despite his brazen words, Hizashi keeps his gaze low.

"Am I really? Then why do you not call me Yashi-nii anymore? You never refer to me as anything other than Hiashi-sama, is it so difficult to believe that you no longer have the same dreams as before, if you are not the same person?"

"Referring to Hiashi-sama as anything but Hiashi-sama is a sign of disrespect."

Tensing at the the cold tone, Hiashi sighs and sinks lower, letting the cool water ease his muscles.

"I concede," he mutters softly, eyes blank, ", but- do you never wonder what life would be like? If we ran away, if we abandoned–" Hiashi doesn't even finish the sentence, Hizashi's sharp voice cutting the air.

"With due respect Hiashi-sama, it does not bode well within me that the heir to the Hyūga family continues to act so nonchalantly, it is within the best interest of the clan, if you refrain from such speculation."

Nodding at the comment, Hiashi holds in a sigh and wades further from his brother.

They talk no more of the topic.

The next and final time he asks Hizashi, they're both grown men with wives and children and one of them happens to be lying dead in a box.

He looks at the box and feels anger, burning, painful anger. Long fingers run along the side of the coffin and he feels a dark coil in his stomach. His little brother, the one he was to protect had given his life up for Hiashi and he couldn't even put up a good enough fight to get him a good coffin. Only some cheap box sturdy enough to last the duration of the ride.

Eyes wistful, Hiashi bends, happy that he'd managed to get his family far enough that they didn't see such an intimate moment.

Softly, Hiashi runs his fingers through his brother's hair and wonder when he'd gotten so sentimental. He gives his brother one last lingering caress, cold skin against warm calloused hands. Heaving a sigh, Hiashi moves to sits in seiza form on the ground, bowing his head lightly.

"I wonder, Hizashi...If running away is still an option?"

Hizashi doesn't answer, can't answer the question ever again.

Closing his eyes, Hiashi lets himself mourn for his brother, his dreams and everything that could no longer be.

"I am sorry Hizashi," and with that, he bows and leaves.

This is the only place I felt was right to end this story, and thank you for reading.