Summary: Sometimes, when he looked at her, he didn't know what he was supposed to be seeing.
Pairing: Naruto/Hinata, implied Naruto/Sakura/Sasuke
Genre: Romance/Angst/Tragedy
Inspired by: Sintari (Rosemary for Remembrance) and Sahara Storm (He Needs Her)
A/N: Feedback is most welcome.
- - -
Sometimes, when he looked at me, I thought I saw pain in those vibrant eyes of perfect blue. At first, I thought it was an illusion, like mirages that I saw in the desert after being in the sun too long and hallucinating from thirst.
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
But he merely smiled and asked me out on a date.
I said yes.
That was how we started.
- - -
In a few months, I had gotten used to going to Ichiraku with him. While I tended to order something different every time, he always ordered miso ramen purely by habit, as if to recall the better days.
And as easily as those weekly visits had begun, they ended.
But I wasn't tormented by his absence. Besides, everyone who ever saw anything in me always left at some point.
But sometimes I remember my mother's smile, my uncle's encouraging words, and the distant tone in his voice when he talked about the past.
- - -
In time, I found out that his teammates had gone missing.
One out of vengeance.
The other, for love.
- - -
Perhaps it was for those reasons that he waited for me at my doorstep on a stifling afternoon. I didn't think it was just coincidence that he appeared while I tended the garden.
"Wanna go for a walk?" he asked.
Without answering, I followed his vagabond steps. Though he had barely walked the town's streets where we both grew up, I had never felt so lost before.
And when I finally realized where we were, he took my hand.
"I've been thinking," he started. "And you're the only one for me."
Those were the words he said to me.
I laughed lightly, knowing it wasn't true. Still, it amused me how silly that so-called declaration sounded. I know I've never been beautiful, but shy and sometimes lonely.
But still . . .
"I don't mean anything to you."
My hand felt cold when he let go.
He confused me with a hurt look.
I hugged him, feeling a warm breeze over my neck.
"Now who's lying?"
He filled my vision one more time. It seemed as though he were trying to find traces of a bright green or a dark brown or a combination of the two in my silver eyes.
"You must be the liar, then," I responded after kissing him softly (because he seemed so close to breaking).
"Hinata," he said, and I had the distinct feeling that he meant to say another name, though I wasn't sure which.
I pulled out a sprig of rosemary, one that I had grown in the garden on a whim, not knowing if it would sprout, and placed it in his hand, closing his fingers over the leaves.
"So that you'll remember to find what you've lost."
He smiled sadly when I walked away and didn't stop me from leaving this story.
- - -
I didn't hear from him for a long time.
And that's the way I expected things would stay.
- - -
"Have you heard," my sister asked. At the time, I had barely returned from a mission to Fog Country.
"What happened?"
It had been a long time since I'd though about his rough fingers in my hair, his warm touch.
"Team Seven is together again."
The sandals I was taking off had fallen from my hands. I had the feeling he had finally kept his promise to the pink haired teammate. Loyalty, above all, was what he was renown for. And I wasn't surprised to learn that the three would never be apart again.
I don't recall the details of his death very well, just the last thing Hanabi told me.
"They say he was found with a sprig of rosemary in his fist."
The tea I had been drinking had suddenly gone cold. The blowing wind announced the arrival of autumn with the scent of strong pine.
Soon, it would be the time when the borage flowers would be ready to treat open wounds. And for once, I was dying to forget.