After

Eleven

He had agreed to pick her some books from the library on his way to her house. She had written what she needed in a small piece of paper with her name and a signature at the bottom. It appeared to be valuable content that dictated to be handled with care, the initial decline of the librarian said so. His position changed as soon as he handed him the note. The man didn't take it, he just looked at it and got up to bring him what he wanted.
Sasuke stood at the stall, waiting patiently for the books to be brought to him. He examined the few words that took form with black ink, the front covered by a stamp with her clan symbol on it.
Names of books he wasn't familiar with, a report with a number at the end, if it was year or counting, he didn't know. And at the end with small letters Hinata Hyuga.
From afar it seemed like the notes he was given when he was still at the academy. Many girls handed it to him during class, or slipped them in his pockets. He never bothered to read them.
He took the bag filled with books and checked if everything was inside. The man looked displeased, almost offended.
When he exited the noises covered the streets, contrast to the quietness of the building behind him. Still he was able to recognise the loud bark that formed Naruto's voice.
He saw him too, or he sensed him, he didn't know, but he moved past the busy road to meet him. Nara followed a step back.
"Hey what are you doing here?" He asked.
"I needed to borrow some things." He suddenly felt weird to tell him that it was actually her that needed the books.
"For your..for Hinata's work?" A little bit of his brighteness was lost.
He nodded. Naruto scratched his head.
"How are you two doing? I mean, are you working well with each other?"
"Quite fine." He replied.
"I hope you are behaving." Naruto tried to lighten the mood.
Sasuke took a step, he was almost beside Nara who seemed completely uninterested in the conversation.
"Don't be a total jerk. Hinata is... Don't push her too much, okay? Just...Do your work."
"What do you want Naruto?" Sasuke stopped.
"Nothing. I just know how you can be sometimes." He tried to laugh it off. It didn't work.
"And how is that?"
Silence.
"I don't think you should be worried. She seems perfectly capable to defend herself." He said with a scoff.
"That's... great."
It wasn't what he wanted to say. Sasuke waited. Naruto was never a man to withhold his thoughts. Yet he had a feeling, his friend wanted to ask something that he did not.
"We are going to check the progress done in the new area. Care to join us?"
This whole unerving feeling dissapeared and Naruto became how he always was.
"I don't think that is wise." The advisor spoke for the first time. "No personel is allowed to visit until it is finished."
He eyed the man and he nodded, aknowledging his presence for the first time.
"Come on Shikamaru, it's Sasuke. He can come if he wants. I allow it." He added the last part playfully.
"No need. I don't need favours."
The truth was that he really didn't want to go. A half baked product that would remind him of the past.
"Don't be a jerk." Naruto barked again, half angry, half sad.
"If you excuse me. Hogake-sama."
He said and he turned his back.
Naruto added more words. He could still hear him complaining until he took a turn and the crowd covered his voice.
He was secretly pleased with himself. He realised it always amused him to work up the blonde. It was easy, he could never let his provocations go.
In a way it reminded him that someone cared. That he wasn't just a shadow that passed by, feared for a fleeting moment, only to be forgotten the next. Depressing, he thought, his existence to be determined of the loud complaints.
He was outside her door without realising. His mind was elsewhere, in the ghost of a person, that was mostly stories, than anything else.
He missed a branch of the tree that had found its way outside her porch. It wasn't the contact that brought him back, but the noise. Fabric tearing.
He had knocked as he examined the damage that was done to his only jacket.
"Shit."
She had opened and she was greeted with a curse. He didn't bother to apologise, it was her fault, for the tree she didn't groom properly, for the books she wanted.
The bag was left on the floor as she closed the door and bent to pick them up.
"You should take care of your garden." A second wave of irritation came from his mouth.
"Hello to you too." She placed the books at the table.
He glanced at her. She matched his stare and then followed the place his attention was a moment ago.
"There is a cut on your coat." She said.
"I know. Your bare tree did it."
"It blooms at winter." She replied as if that was the problem.
She walked closer and raised her hand.
"I can fix it if you want."
He was ready to deny, but the way her hand was open and the stare she gave him, pointed that she was just using polite words. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.
He took the seat beside the fire. It was a cold day and the skin under his shoulder was left uncovered. A sleeveless top was a bad decision. But the place he was staying, didn't leave him many options and the weather kept his clothes wet.
He hoped it would be quick. She sat across him, his coat on her lap. On her side there was a box, knitting needles and sewing threads of different colours, contained its inside.
She searched for the right one, placing on top of the fabric threads that all seemed black to him.
He wanted her to be faster. She finally found what she was looking for and began her work. She was completely focused on the matter and the movement of her fingers caught up to him.
He watched as the needle was pressed inside the fabric, lost for a second, only to be discovered in the next.
He had forgotten of his hurry, until she spoke.
"Why are you still wearing bandages?" Her gaze was on the repeated movement, never raised.
He stayed focused on her for a moment and then turned his attention to his left hand. Where a hand should have been. Only some part of the arm was there and on top of it white bandages that hid the skin.
"Does it hurt you?" She asked, yet he imagined she was aware that wouldn't be possible after eight years.
"No." He decided to reply to that. It was a safe question to answer to.
"Is it...?" She brought the coat closer to her eyes, before she continued. "Like a memento?"
"No."
She pressed the needle and when she made it visible again, she rose her gaze for the first time.
He felt the need to raise his palm and hide that part of his body. He stopped himself before it happened.
They stared at each other until he was sure he would not offer her an answer and she realise that very fact. He looked as her stare was ready to leave, the thread almost moved.
"It's not a nice sight." He said.
Her palm touched the fabric on her lap, the return to fixing the cut forgotten.
"The cut was sloppy. It was a fight not a surgery." He chastified it. "And as I denied any further treatment than to stop the bleeding, it healed just as sloppy." His voice lacked any emotion. He pictured the sight in the mirror after he bathed.
"The skin has carves, stitches were needed. It was a powerful attack. Enough to bring me to my senses."
From the other side there was silence. He hoped that he had chosen the right words to hide his shame, both for the sight of his torn arm and from the fact itself that he felt it.
She returned to her work like he hadn't just spoke.
"Has anyone seen it?" She asked, crushing him under the undeniable reality that she understood, despite his elaborate attempts.
"Sakura and Tsunade. They did all the work. Even the changes of bandages."
"If it bothers you.." Another passing of the needle. "Why don't you ask for a replacement?"
"I don't want a replacement." He said steadily. "And even if I did, that ship has sailed. Nothing can be done now."
He felt the cold again.
"Is this going to take longer?"
"I'm almost finished." She replied, her eyes on the task.
He looked at the fire. Perhaps if he looked at it, he would feel the heat.
"Do you regret it?" She asked.
"No." He answered. "But that is a different story."
He gave her a side glance to see if she could understand what he was saying. Her features held an absolute neutrality. One that in the past almost made him think that she was not the brightest. Like she understood half of what was said and happened. It was usually followed by a smile that sealed his guessing.
She brought the coat close to her mouth and caught the thread with her teeth.
"Done." She said and raised her gaze.
He got up to wear it and she followed. As she stood against him, she made a move, unconsciously, a move that Sasuke had seen her doing many times in the past. She brushed the side of his coat to straighten it. Only her hand skip the part where his arm was cut.
He had think that she didn't understood everything, that she was kind of silly, that when her eyes blinked and she offered a light smile it was to hide the embarrassment of not quite realising what was happening around her.
He was wrong as it seemed.
And he questioned what kind of things Hinata Hyuga knew all this times and she had hidden them behind that neutrality.