To all those who reviewed: you were right, it wouldn't be complete without the Fox's story.

Cheers!

There's a Fox in the Garden!

First and foremost, he did not say he was not a fox. He did not deny that he wasn't wily or tricky or slippery, or that he did not have the tendency to be loud and flamboyant and showy. He did not walk, or stampede as they liked to frequently claim (he was capable of hearing them whisper behind those flimsy rice paper doors), through their gates proclaiming that he was not a spectacle of orange and yellow, and that he did not eat ramen for seven days a week, and that he did not enjoy a few nights in the tavern getting plastered and wasted and generally incapable of speech until the next morning.

No.

He did not deny that he was a fox.

"Fox" was pretty much coated all over him for anyone to see, his fur orange and his eyes luminous. And they certainly had eyes. That was to say, they were known for their eyes. Certainly even he knew better than to try to mislead their eyes.

He wasn't stupid (regardless what others – coughRosecough – may say).

He believed, by now anyway, that they should respect him for his forthcomings. He was not a liar (in spite of his foxy lineage) and did not intend to "deceive them" out of anything they weren't willing to give (in spite of his foxy lineage). And really, he thought, they should be the last people on Earth to lecture him on basic manners and respect. They had been machines for most of their lives, incapable of understanding other beings, and they were lecturing him? He, at the very least, had wanted human contact all throughout his life! He, at the very least, was capable of shielding her fragile stem from hail without being asked… not that she had been anywhere near the garden for them to actually aid her, but that was beside the point!

…

Oh, alright then, perhaps he did lie about bringing her back to the garden on time after an outing and that he did not trample on their – her (he would find out later, much to his shame) – peony bush – BUT THAT WAS ALL THE LIES HE HAD EVER TOLD THEM. (Oh, and that birdbath, but that was more the Rose's fault than his… despite what she may have said.)

So he wasn't as graceful as other foxes, or as charming, or as skilfully flirtatious – BUT he was honest, and he prided himself for that. He did not try to disguise himself, or try to sneak along the outside walls of their garden, or try to use false words to lure her in. He did not do that because, not only was he incapable of it, she did not deserve that from him. At least on that point, they agreed… in a somewhat grouchy, shadowy way, but they agreed nevertheless.

And it was not like he had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for her to open up her petals before lunging at her like some animal! He was not without manners or a healthy need to stay alive; he had seen the Venus Flytrap by her stem and the Rose settled along her leaves. He wasn't blind, for Konoha's sake! He wasn't going to risk his life just to catch a glimpse of her. If he was going risk his life, he was going to get more than just a glimpse.

He wasn't stupid.

So he had been patient. He hadn't wanted to scare her away, hadn't wanted to frighten her enough for her to close up her petals and to withdraw her broad leaves. He hadn't wanted her to think badly of him or to believe he was like those other mindless foxes. He actually cared about her opinion and needs and wants. He wanted to see her glow in the sun and shine in the rain out of her own desire, not his. He wanted to make her happy, and be the thing she was most happy about. He needed her to believe so, to believe in him because he had been the runt in his pack and he so badly needed someone to accept him.

And he knew, from the moment he had first caught sight of her real self, that she was the only one capable of loving him the way he had yearned for and needed throughout his long years.

He wasn't about to screw it up, not then and certainly not now.

So he was slow and careful at first, shy and bashful in her eyes. He knew that there was a lot at stake, a lot of trials he had to go through, and that the prize was not really a prize, but a gift that only she would be able to give. Thus he stayed outside the walls, those blank, white walls that belied the colourful and warm secrets within.

He had believed that he had been mistaken. He believed that what he had seen the day before, in the midst of a very important task, was just a figment of his imagination. And he had a lot of imagination, even for a fox. The image of her white petals, washed with the delicate colours of her garden, and her graceful long stem that caught the sun, and those slender leaves that promised gentleness… He had dreamt of her that night, and woke believing that it hadn't been real. That she was not real.

But she was real, even as she had stepped out from behind the wall in muted colours – he had not been able to keep his eyes off her, frozen outside the gates of the wall simply to stare, and stare, and stare. He must have looked like a fool then, but he hadn't cared when he realized that she had disguised herself to be a weed all this time simply to divert other foxes from noticing her. He had been immensely pleased that he had had the honour of seeing her true self, and even more pleased when she let him see her petals again the day after, and the day after, and the day after…

A fox was an omnivore, preferring meat first. Thus he had been cautious of what he ate while in her presence, taking care not to step on any stray ragweeds along the sidewalks or crash into any oaks in the midst of training. He made sure not to pull too hard on any barberry bushes in the forests or rip through any reeds by the river while hunting down his latest prey – another troublemaker Hell-bent on downing Konoha… again.

He had been careful. He had been slow. He had been patient.

One would think her damn garden would appreciate his efforts.

It had all been worthwhile when she finally opened the picket fence and led him slowly into her garden. He didn't know what Heaven felt like, but it must have felt like those mangoes hanging ripe at their branches, like those red currants winking in the sunlight, like those strands of golden wheat swaying in the breeze, like those amaryllises still gleaming with dew, like those bellflowers clustered together, like those eggplants waiting to be plucked and those cabbages glowing like fairy orbs.

But most of all, Heaven must have felt like her.

Her and her beautiful laughter. Her and her gentle smile. Her and that unbelievable, unforgettable, undeniable touch to his chin, a soft caress, a shy brush, a hopeful encounter that took his breath away and filled his soul and stretched his lungs and gave him something wonderful he couldn't quite name…

No mortal man, much less a fox, would be able to resist her, not when she was in her natural habitat, without her insecurities and discomforts. Not when she had reached her leaves out to him, rich in colour and gloss to the touch. Not when she had craned her stem up to meet his whiskers, long and graceful. Not when she had opened up her petals so white and pure to sweep up against his bristling fur.

Foxes were omnivores, preferring meat… but every now and then they would pluck a berry or gather a nut. It had not been possible, under that sweet sky, below that sweet sun, held in that sweet perfume of hers, for him to resist the temptation of one of her gooseberries, to sample one of her apricots, to test one of her flavourful almonds, or to taste one of her walnuts.

It had not been possible for him to not lean forward, his nose twitching for her floral scent, and…

It had been their first kiss.

He had felt a tad lecherous knowing that it wouldn't be their last.

And as he slowly drew back, all his fur standing on end from exhilaration and his breath heady with need, he knew that it hadn't been enough. Even if she were to grace her petals upon his maw a thousand times… it would never be enough. It would never be enough, because he would always want her. He would always need her. And those kisses were just too beautiful and wonderful and warm to let go of.

And he really should've known that it wouldn't be that easy. It was not just the simple matter of letting him into her garden to trample about like a wild thing and to hold her fragile head to the frenzy beat of his heart. It was not that simple because her damn garden was filled with poison ivies and monkshoods, and conniving nightshades and cunning hemlocks. He should have known because they had those eyes of theirs, ever-watchful, ever-observant, ever-knowing, and with all those corn she had in her garden – they had been equipped with ears too.

He had known that the Venus Flytrap would be the first to confront him. They had known each other for a very long time… and he knew just how to snap his acidic teeth to keep the Fox away. For such a frail plant, the Venus Flytrap sure knew how to use its sharp tongue to whip the Fox into shape. Training Ground Five would never look the same again, but it had had to be done. They had both known that the Fox was stronger, but it had been more of a warning than an assassination attempt.

The Rose, however, had gone for an assassination. A dark beauty with crimson petals, her thorns were as scathing as her stem long. She had weaved a deadly web with her bushes and had attempted to cage the Fox. But the Fox was wily. The Fox was tricky and slippery. She may have those eyes of hers, but a simple genjutsu was enough to catch her off-guard. He had been generous in not plucking her petals, generous enough to nudge her along and pretend that nothing had happened. He had not wanted to make his own flower sad by damaging her Rose.

But he had underestimated her. He had forgotten that she had been trained by machines. He should have known that the Rose was a tattletale. He should have known that the Rose had other contacts outside the garden. Everyone knew that when one wanted a fox out of a garden, one needed a hound, and when one wanted to rid of pests, one needed a bigger bug with a sting to fend them off.

He should have known that the Rose would call on the Hound and the Kikaichu to interrogate him.

Of all the Rookie Nine, he had never feared Team Eight until the Hound drew his claws and fangs, and the Kikaichu threatened to suck out his innards until he was nothing but an empty fox carcass. It wasn't enough that it had been two against one (Nope. He wasn't ever allowed to catch a break, was he?), but the Hound had a hound of his own, and the Kikaichu had a whole damn colony up his sleeve. So how was the Fox supposed to reply when they asked him why the Hell was he barking up her tree and sniffing her roots?

Well, he was not a liar. He had not lied to them when he said how much he had needed her, and how much she had meant to him, and how much he had wanted to mean just as much to her, and how much it hurt to think that she would not want him as much as he did her, and how much it would pain him if they were to take her away from him.

He was not a liar.

He had not lied.

He did not lie in the many days after either.

And the Hound and the Kikaichu understood him and his intentions enough to lower their fangs and claws, and to call back the poisonous swarms to regard the Fox with a begrudging respect and a farewell threat of, "Don't screw it up, damn fox, or we'll gut you next time."

And that had been settled pretty much without blood and without pain, and with a careful peace that was a little shaky whenever he crossed the walls and entered her garden, but it held solid nevertheless. Sure, there were a few gossipy violets and vindictive narcissuses, but he could handle them. Sure, sometimes they went banana and pelted him with coconuts, but it was worth it. (Cocoa beans were a different matter – she liked chocolates.)

In fact, it was considered rather fine for the Fox. Anything was fine as long she was at his side. He could endure the harsh winters keeping her warm, the flooded springs keeping her from drowning, the suffocating summers keeping her shaded and the balmy autumn keeping her from being buried by the leaves. He could keep her watered, feed her in the mornings and sing to her in the evenings. He could go to Hell and back again, and move the Earth and Heavens for her, and anything else she would require of him – they would require of him. As long as she was willing to stay by his side, didn't mind his flaws and the occasional flea, then he would do anything for her.

Because she was as much as his Lily as she was theirs, and cherishing her was something they both agreed on.

And with the passing of New Years and the sun falling over the horizon, the Fox's duty of keeping his Lily warm was of the outmost importance. Tall and proud, and a little too prideful some of the garden would say, he sauntered out into the open corridor of the Hyuga Compound and plopped down beside her with a chipper smile, admiring how her dainty feet brushed the snow-bitten grass and the way the winter stars shone warm in her eyes.

Sheepishly, a tad bashfully and feeling rather sure of himself, he wound his tail around her leaves, curling over her stem and easing her petals onto his shoulder. His heart was a steady thump, thump, his eyes a cerulean confidence, and his body eased into her warmth like she was his sun and he was that small, insignificant blade of grass she just happened to smile upon, gracing and blessing him for the rest of the year.

Oh, how he adored her.

"Naruto-kun," she murmured, easing into his arms like an autumn leaf falling quietly into the fog.

"Hinata-chan," he answered softly, a blush of pink on his cheeks at their intimacy. It still felt like a dream being with her, something that was too good to be true, something he was unworthy of, but was too selfish to let go.

She sighed happily, a snowflake caressing her cheek, a soft blush of petal-like gentleness. "Did you have fun tonight?"

He glanced at the paper lanterns strung along the roofs and the vases of flowers by the doorways. When her garden laid dormant in the winters, her plants and seedlings found other ways to display their petals and colours.

Naruto pressed his chin against her hair, feeling the tresses tickle him and pour warmth into his heart, and nodded, both to answer her and to feel her against him. "It was a nice party. I'm sure your dad appreciated your efforts."

Hinata grimaced and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. "It was Hanabi's idea." She sighed, as if she should have known better than to agree to any of her sister's ideas. "She thought it'd be… different to throw a surprise party for chichioya's birthday, but…"

Naruto gave her an encouraging smile and drew her close to comfort her. He was not a liar, and he wasn't about to lie to her and say that her father thought that the surprise party was just his cup of tea – because it wasn't. And he wasn't about to defend Hanabi's idea either.

The Rose had been particularly sharp that night, her thorns like senbon to the bones.

"I'm sure he understands," Naruto assured her, drawing his mouth to her temple, loving the sensation of her hair tickling his lips. He would never tire of that. Never tire of her. "He loves you. You know he's not going to ban future surprise parties because of this." Because he had been planning one for her.

Hinata giggled, a sound that could be felt against his collarbone, an echo that reverberated through him like the soft scent of honeydews. He stopped himself from shivering. She had too much power over him already, not that he was complaining, of course.

"He might just do that," she finally said, a laughter bubbling at her throat, "just to spite Hanabi."

"Heh," Naruto chuckled. "The brat needs to be taught a lesson."

Hinata giggled again, her body so small and slight in his arms that he was tempted to cradle her and pull her into him forever. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

"You tired?" he asked her softly.

She hesitated at first, but then nodded, her hair brushing by his cheeks.

"Then you should take a nap," he suggested. "Don't worry, I'll keep you warm."

With a sigh, she tucked her head into the curve of his neck, her hair just tickling his Adam's apple, and her body relaxed in his hold. She would never truly sleep, just resting her eyes, but he was happy that she trusted him enough to be so vulnerable with him. Her majesty, her dignity, her beauty unravelled into simplicity and truth right before his eyes, in the faith and belief that he would keep her safe even at her most defenceless of times.

The Hyuga Clan rarely saw her so exposed, so otherworldly, so implacable. If they knew, they would have gone back to their rooms and lamented over their inability to make their beloved heiress so content that she had no fear of dangers. They would have trained doubly so just to ensure that she did not worry about being attacked or kidnapped ever again.

They were quite determined to keep their most cherished safe and happy.

The Hyuga Clan, in his opinion, could suck it.

He may be an outsider, but he took a lot of pride in knowing that their heiress was the most truthful whenever she was with him – hence all the seeds pelted at him whenever she wasn't looking.

He placed his nose to her hair and breathed in the warm cinnamon of her shampoo, a homey and sweet scent that promised warm nights, and comforting arms, and sugared kisses. He loved the way her hair was drawn up to that one white hair comb he had given her for her birthday, the etching of lilies in white stone. And her kimono, so white and iridescent, threaded through with silver lilies that gleamed like rivers under the moon, made her so ethereal and divine that he had wanted to hold her close and never let go.

He kissed her hair and looked up when he saw Neji treading lightly through Hinata's hibernating garden, some of the grasses and flowers hardy enough to make it through the winter. The lull of the sha, sha sounds of the wind threading through the wheat grass made it comforting for Naruto as he gazed into the steady eyes of the Venus Flytrap.

Truce, but they both knew that soon they would be allies.

Too many pests had had the luck of catching a glimpse of their Lily lately. Like that Deer, all shadows and shiftiness, silence and sharp wit. The Venus Flytrap had caught the animal nibbling on some of her mushrooms that autumn. And then there was that Raccoon, who had handed her some desert flowers since he had heard that she had liked to garden. Imagine the rodent's surprise to see her in her garden, petals exposed and smelling of sweet nectar…

Shikamaru may be one of the greatest minds of the Rookie Nine, and Gaara may be one of his best friends, but there was no way in Hell was Naruto going to hand Hinata to anyone. It was hard enough getting through all those vines and bushes of the Hyuga Clan, and then harder still to keep her at his side – he was not going to just give her up to some boys who didn't know what it meant to transgress the Hyuga.

They were very, very fond of their heiress.

Neji looked to Naruto's right, and the blond turned to see who it was.

He was not a liar. Thus, it was unnecessary of him to lie to himself that he hadn't been scared out of his wits in face of the Pine Tree. That cursed Pine Tree. That Pine Tree that could never be felled by weather or natural disaster, could never be broken by a hurricane or flooded by a tsunami, or torn from his roots by a twister or split in half by thunder. He was, that damned Pine Tree, every inch of bark of him, unbreakable.

"H-Hyuga-sama," Naruto stammered, afraid to move less he should wake Hinata… or the sleeping danger within the Pine Tree.

The Lord Hyuga seemed to notice this too, notice ever sharply that his daughter was so comfortable with the damned Fox that she did not wake in his presence. It was not an observation that comforted him in the very least.

"Uzumaki," Hiashi addressed in usual bout of monotone.

"Eh… Happy birthday?" Naruto tired, the awkwardness almost suffocating.

He had already dealt with the Venus Flytrap, the Rose, the Hound, the Kikaichu, and the whole of the wicked garden (and was still dealing with the garden)… but the Fox had yet to deal with the Pine Tree.

"Thank you," Hiashi acknowledged, turning to face the garden so precious to his eldest.

Naruto shifted uncomfortably, careful in not waking Hinata.

"I have my eyes on you, Uzumaki," Hiashi warned.

Naruto tensed.

"You will treat her with care, otherwise…" Hiashi's threat hung like the thickest of pesticides.

Naruto swallowed and replied, "I would never dream of treating her with anything but with the outmost care, Hyuga-sama."

Hiashi narrowed his eyes, so white, so hard, so marble and mechanic almost, at the jinchuriki… and then nodded.

A chilly winter wind blew past, cold and relentless, and Naruto waited with bated breath, a heartbeat later, as Hiashi returned to the room where several foreign dignitaries were still present for him to deal with. All Naruto could do was breath a sign of relief and-

"Naruto-kun?" Hinata asked.

He jolted, surprised to find her awake. "S-Sorry, Hinata-chan. I didn't mean to wake you."

She stared at him, eyes wide like the moon and complexion as sweet and pale as a lily, and she smiled, teasingly, and tapped a finger on his nose. "You didn't wake me." She shook her head gently. "I thought you might be uneasy with my chichioya, that's all."

"O-Oh," Naruto said nervously, and then attempted an easy shrug. "S'okay. We're okay."

Hinata squinted her eyes playfully and placed a warm hand on his cheek. "Silly, Naruto-kun, I can see through all your lies."

He grinned.

He was not a liar.

Not occasionally.

But whenever he was, she would be sure to catch him.

"I love you," he confessed.

Her smile widened. "You didn't lie this time."

Naruto laughed and dipped his mouth to catch her lips, a muzzle against her petals.

She was just as sweet as he remembered from yesterday.

"I love you too," she whispered before he leaned in to steal another taste of her nectar.

So sweet, this flower of his. May her garden grow large enough to encompass him, for he would love to be the fox the intruders would have to cross to get to her.

And he was not going to make it easy either.

xxx

the point