Distance

a/n: I'm really trying to give this story an ending. thank you all so much that's supported me and this mess of a plot. You all deserve so much more than this rushed piece. But if I can get you to the conclusion, then I will.

Distance was a horribly familiar concept to her. Aching and often, it popped up every once in awhile whenever she thought things were going okay. It would wind its way through the mundane events of her life, placing itself squarely in between the things she loved, the people she loved, and herself.

And no matter how much she would reach and grasp, slim fingers calling and twisting for a warmth that was rare, she could never breach the distance.

She had become accustomed to this, settling herself in with a resigned little smile and enjoying the things she could enjoy while they lasted, before distance grew and life took them away from her. She had decided that perhaps, a little distance on her own part, could make it hurt less.

So it was with no small amount of surprise that she found herself here.

She had to stop herself from glancing just once more to her right. He was beside her, close enough that she could feel the unusual heat that radiated off him at all times. It was a warmth welcome and just as familiar as the distance she was used to. It was all around him, like sunbeams drifting through blue skies.

The warmth traced across her skin, skittering as he inched a little closer, a little nearer and it left the most horrifying case of goose bumps she had gotten in a while.

And oh how she wished she could look out from their perch atop the Hokage mountain, and how she wished she could simply enjoy the stars coming out, one, two, three and enjoy nature's treasures. But nothing could prepare her for this.

Distance had forsaken her when she had expected it most. Note that expecting is not synonymous with welcoming, and that she really did appreciate this time spent with him.

But Hinata Hyuuga was no fool, and for all her logical thoughts and her flighty fancies, she could feel a disquieting revelation roiling within her.

"Naruto-kun?"

He hummed his answer, tilting his head towards the tepid breeze and the broad horizon coloring his eyes a murky blue.

Hinata breathed a sigh, her muddled calculations and epiphanies mixed with a harrowing distrust in her own self.

"Why am I here?" She asked, silvery eyes peering forward at the twilight sky. There was a softness to her that belied her fear, her hands clasped together in wary anticipation.

She was beautiful to him in this moment, entirely a composition of an inky night with stars set in her gaze. The twinkle of her pendant caught the evening light of the sun and bitterness twisted in him.

The small box weighed heavy in his jacket pocket, and his hesitation won out.

He couldn't propose to her so easily. He couldn't tie another noose around her when she was already fighting against several.

And so he quietly tucked away his plans for now and simply said that he wanted to spend time with her away from all the bustle of the Hokage work.

The disbelieving smile she gave him hurt a little more than he cared to admit.

The wind carried away their conversation, settling them into a quiet understanding that Hinata broke with a musing comment.

"I saw you...once."

"O-oh?"

Hinata smiled softly, head tilting towards the last few rays of the sun pouring over the distant horizon. She savored the warmth, before answering.

"Three years ago, I think. In the capitol. It was a festival. You were an honored guest. You were sitting with Killer B-san, next to the Daimyo."

Naruto blinked, the memory solidifying into a clear cut image of glowing red lanterns. A terribly stuffy banquet and a long stream of well-wishers and guests who'd wanted to greet him.

The whole world had tried to say hello to him, except Hinata.

"So...why didn't you stop by and say hello?" He said lightly, but there was a strain on his voice that told her he was hurt.

And in her mind, there was an old memory of loneliness. A memory of reaching and pushing through crowds, until she was within his field of vision. She'd been poised to call his name, and then his gaze had passed over her, searching for something that he couldn't find.

"I tried to, but there were too many people...and you didn't see me. And I was scared."

"Scared?" He asked gently, fingers nearly reaching for her to comfort her.

But he didn't move. He simply let the patience he'd long learned to use with her settle into him. Let the almost burning, almost painful love he felt for her guide him into waiting.

"That you might be angry with me. That you would hate me for leaving like I did."

She seemed despondent, bitterness creeping into her throat as she hugged herself.

"And now? If there was a crowd of people and I was behind them, would you come and say hi to me?"

"It depends." She replied archly. "Do you see me now, Naruto-kun?"

She followed easily as he placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her so that he could look directly into her eyes and impress upon her his sincerity.

"I do."

His eyes were bright and burning. The sun had nearly set, and there was nothing to shine brighter than his gaze just yet.

She shivered slightly, because she could feel the thumping of his pulse, beating just against the sliver of skin exposed on her shoulder by her cream sweater.

But Hinata would answer him, just a little more directly. He was leaning too close. Closer and closer without even realizing it.

His hands were too hot, holding too hard on her shoulders to make her feel free.

"I'm glad." She whispered and then carefully slipped away from him. "But we should head back. There's still a lot of letters to reply to. And I think the Daimyo's planning something big for your inauguration. Something to demonstrate that he's still on good terms with Konoha."

"Oh…" Naruto breathed quietly, just a little winded by the sudden change of conversation. "Why?"

She played with a tendril of hair that had fallen softly over her shoulder as she contemplated.

"I think...I think it's because he wants to show all the angry civilians that he's still got shinobi on his side. It's a control thing...and also, I think he's going to try and sweet talk his way into your future plans for the village."

"So I'm guessing it's going to be like a big expensive party. There better be good food at least, if I'm going to be forced to go." He said, with a soft smile lending the occasion levity.

Hinata really did try to return it, but a thought suddenly occurred to her that made her shiver with fear and nervousness. She felt it. Something cold and heavy slithering it's way down her silver coated spine.

"And Kazuhiko...might in all likelihood be there." She whispered.

An incredibly heated feeling swept through him at her revelation, something searing and filled with an intensely illogical hatred for a man he'd never even met. But the dying light of the sun caught on her pendant just in that moment, and he realized with clarity that his jealousy was nearly crippling.

"You don't belong to him."

A bit of pride sparked into her brilliant eyes in that moment. It was a look of heated determination and a challenge as she let her emotions slip into her tone.

"Who do I belong to?"

He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to tell her that she belonged to him and to her village. He wanted to tell her that it was all in equal measure. That he and the village belonged just as surely to her.

But he couldn't answer, because the truth was Hinata didn't consider herself worthy enough to be a part of Konoha and maybe...maybe, she didn't consider him worthy enough to belong to her.

His doubts had settled into his choices. Had kept that little black velvet box in his pocket and kept his voice in his throat.

"You belong to yourself."

This was the truth. And it wasn't necessarily a bad thing at all. It was the most comforting thing he could give her at the moment. The assurance that she was in control of her own life.

Her smile was melancholy despite that.

"We really should go." She said with a distant finality, turning towards the long winding stairs to go back. She walked past him, long tendrils of her hair brushing against his arm and it was so much like their second encounter, that he almost felt his heart break a little.

"Hinata...wait."

She did. She stopped a few feet away, turning around with careful curiosity in her gaze.

"I uh...I need to ask you something." Naruto swallowed thickly, but his decision had already been made at least for today, and his question was something valid for their circumstances.

She nodded.

"I umm...Okay. so I'm trying to look for a solution, but we can't do this on our own. I'm going to need to ask for help. Do I have your permission to tell your story to people I trust?"

He was scared. More so for the future he already had let himself dream of more concretely in the past week than ever before.

But she mistook his quiet for nervousness at her response, and as a friend she couldn't let him linger in that discomfort.

"If you trust them, I trust them...I think it should be okay." She said resolutely, giving him a gentle smile. She turned to keep walking and he felt his heart sink some more.

But hope bloomed well in his chest when she paused just at the opening of the stair well and waited for him to fall in step with her.

It was with a strangely buoyant invitation from Naruto that Sasuke found himself at Ichiraku Ramen once more.

The small shop was empty save for them, which wasn't unexpected considering that it was nearly three in the morning.

Heavens knew what the old proprietor was doing up so late, but Sasuke didn't have the energy or the curiosity to ask.

He'd been accosted on the way back from a mission report, his cloak was torn and tattered, and the idiot had pulled so hard to get Sasuke's attention, that it had made the gaping hole near his shoulder even larger.

He'd been unceremoniously plopped down onto the wobbly stool next to his friend, and then had been all but forced to order something from the menu.

So here he sat. Dirty, stinky, and looking for all the world like a beggar from the streets of Mizu.

To make matters worse, Naruto was being ornery with conversation today, absolutely insisting on swallowing up every opportunity for complaints.

"I don't-"

"It's on me. It's all on me, you jerk." Naruto waved away his protests with a hasty gesture, only to place his knobby hands neatly on the red countertop and fidget a bit. There was an irritating nervous energy radiating from him, and Sasuke was too tired from his last mission to wait for whatever it was that Naruto needed to announce.

Sasuke was only beginning to settle into his normal quiet, giving a polite grunt to a softly smiling Teuchi as he placed down Sasuke's Miso Ramen in front of him.

He kept his gaze on Naruto, dark eyes peering past the steam rising for his bowl to take in the entirety if the situation.

It didn't escape his notice that Naruto continuously cast glances behind them, and Sasuke knew at least partly why Naruto was nervous.

"You invited Sakura, didn't you?" Sasuke asked evenly, entirely nonplussed. But Naruto knew him well enough to take in the slight tension in his jaw, the almost too perfect composure that Sasuke wore like a mask whenever it came to their only female team member.

Naruto's answer came in the form of Sakura herself, barreling in with a frustrated groan.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, but there was a patient that coded right near the end of my shift and I swear to god, it's like someone doesn't want me to stop work...ing." Her rant trailed off into silence as she saw that Naruto wasn't alone.

Her green eyes were wide and the dark circles around them made her look fragile. It didn't help that her sweater was beige and made her pale skin stand out a bit more, beyond the faint flush of her cheeks.

The flaps were still waving noisily behind her as she blinked, stupefied.

"Oh...Hello, Sasuke-kun." She said quietly, eyes darting to Naruto immediately for some reprieve from the pain that pierced through her.

Sasuke merely tilted his head at her in welcome, and instead decided that there must have been something intensely interesting in his ramen.

Sakura looked crestfallen, but quickly schooled her features, and offered Naruto a more relaxed greeting via shoulder punch.

"Ow! What was that for!?" He pouted for a bit, rubbing over his orange jacket where she'd hit him. Naruto fully realized why she'd been angry. He hadn't given her any warning, but Sasuke and Sakura's issues would take a backseat for once because he had something he needed to tell them both.

But Naruto wouldn't have been Naruto without a sense of humor, and so he waited until Sakura was seated primly on his right and until they all had their orders in front of them.

He filled in the silence with small talk, with the occasional rejoinder from Sakura and the occasional grunt from Sasuke. And then, when the anticipation came to be too much, Sakura broke the silence.

"So, is this about Hinata-chan?" She began.

"If this is about the mess your Hyuuga's in,I don't really care." Sasuke said simply.

Sakura gave him an alarmed look, but she felt an unfamiliar sharp spike of irritation towards the Uchiha. And she used it to carry her into more normal behavior, eagerly turning to Naruto.

"Don't listen to him. What's wrong?"

"Ah...I'm assuming you guys heard about her Byakugan not working already?" Naruto edged in carefully, twirling a few of long noodles around his chopsticks and mixing the broth a little. There was a light sheen of sweat across his forehead.

"It's kind of obvious. She's wearing glasses." Sakura muttered, but waved at him to continue.

"Hold on." Naruto quickly scanned the surrounding area, glad to note that the late hour had successfully kept more customers at bay. And with a hushed entreaty to Teuchi, he received permission to place a secret-keeping jutsu over the little establishment.

Teuchi was a good host, and promptly excused himself to the back, muttering some excuse or the other about over boiled noodles.

Then there was an almost palpable bubble of clear and warm chakra that blossomed over the three of them. But the seal had been hastily placed on the countertop, and Naruto had nearly ripped the thin paper in his anxiety to resume the conversation.

Sasuke wasn't entirely out of the loop. From what intelligence he'd heard threading through the ANBU forces, the little bits of hearsay that were somehow less reliable than the rumors spun at the Yamanaka flower shop, he knew about Hinata Hyuuga's imbroglio. Her less than formalized engagement to the Daimyo's son.

Now whether it was politically motivated or whether she genuinely cared for the man were topics of interest, but the former was gaining quick support after her return and her subsequent renewed friendship with Naruto.

The town had nearly gone crazy with speculation as to the nature of her relationship with Naruto, and the ANBU had quivered with barely restrained curiosity. Coded messages shared between them all blossomed into intricate meanings. Things like, the flame is once again outshined by the sun or equally stupid things, were said.

So it's with very little surprise that he listened to Naruto's hushed explanations. Details were redacted from his retelling, leaving the story riddled with gaping holes that left more questions than answers.

Sakura's face on the other hand was priceless. Ever expressive, her lips had parted in horror, then confusion, then more horror as she'd slowly come to a harrowing realization.

She'd sorely misjudged Hinata. She'd been polite. She'd given a modicum of welcoming comments. She'd been the very best superficially friendly person she could be. But Hinata hadn't deserved that.

She'd deserved their old friendship. She'd deserved their old camaraderie. She'd deserved a hug and for someone to tell her that it would all be alright.

But Sakura hadn't been able to see beyond those polite pretty smiles and those distant lavender eyes. Sakura Haruno, who prided herself sorely on being able to decipher people, had gotten it wrong. And she wondered if there was not a little bit more self-questioning she should do. Perhaps something beyond the obvious protectiveness she felt for Naruto.

Perhaps-

It's not jealousy. I wasn't jealous of Hinata. She chided herself mentally, having faith in her honesty. If she couldn't have faith in her judgement of others, she could at least have faith in judgement of her own feelings.

Regardless, the story eventually arrived to its unsatisfactory conclusion. Naruto's expression seemed a bit guilty as he picked at his fourth bowl of ramen, his silence a harrowing precursor for what he had actually needed to tell them.

"So I made a promise to help her get out of this...and honestly, after a whole bunch of research and reading through all kinds of marriage contracts, I think the best thing would be for Kazuhiko to break the engagement himself." He said, dropping his chopsticks without preamble, and then patting nervously at his pockets as he looked for something. "And….and the best way to break up any engagement is if someone is unfaithful...so…"

Sasuke's face was for once twisted into something filled with horror. Sakura was still frowning in thought, trying to absorb all the new revelations as fast as she could when it dawned on her just what Naruto might be leading up to.

There was a moment of silence, the pressure of expectation building up into a painful thing until he finally located the little black velvet box that had eluded him.

Naruto placed it on the red countertop, flipping open the top expertly to reveal a diamond ring made with a delicate simplicity. Something like white gold twisting to capture a bit of starlight.

Something that seemed to throw Team 7 in disarray before Naruto's words could.

"I'm going to propose to Hinata." was subsequently drowned out behind the screams coming from the former Team Kakashi.

Even Sasuke's usually quiet exclamations had risen into loud shouts, punctuated by good old-fashioned name calling and Sakura's wordless shrieks of excitement and incredulity.

And while the silencing bubble may have blessedly covered up all their ruckus, the ring shining softly under the warm golden light of Ichiraku's was hard to miss. Teuchi nearly dropped the dirty dishes he'd been moving to the back when he caught sight of the innocent jewel, standing jubilantly in front of all the chaos he could see beyond the chakra barrier.

He didn't know if congratulations were in order just yet. But it was hard to tell who exactly was proposing and who was being proposed to when Sasuke had hoisted Naruto to his feet by the collar of his orange hoodie and when Sakura was tugging on Naruto's arm, mouth a flurry of unheard questions.

But you didn't serve shinobi for over thirty years without learning a thing or two, and Teuchi was just able to read their lips.

And the words he picked up from Naruto's sheepish expressions, from behind the giddy, goofy smiles that punctuated his explanations, told Teuchi all he needed to know.

After all, he would bet his entire restaurant that Naruto had indeed said something along the lines of-

"I love Hinata. And I want to marry her."

Teuchi would keep this knowledge quietly within himself, betrayed by only his stubborn smile, contemplating what might make a good wedding present.

The days passed in a flurry of activity. By Friday evening, all the invitations that needed to be personally addressed by Naruto were sent off.

His small breakfast table was nearly creaking under the weight of the replies. And while he'd neatly stacked one side of the old thing with the acceptances, he'd littered the other half of his work space with scrolls and tomes.

All the faded and cryptic scripts were related to fuinjutsu and the intricacies of seals that were directly placed on a human being.

But it was an endlessly fruitless endeavour. The Hyuuga were a sham with their flawless exteriors. Elegance in supposed simplicity marked their appearance and their jutsu.

It was all a lie. A lie as clear cut in their application of the seal as anything else.

The Caged Bird Seal was something of a nightmare to untangle. No application was ever the same. The simplicity of the green cross etched onto skin did not prepare him for the ridiculous tangle of chakra patterns that rested below it.

It had not prepared him for the haphazard and ugly way the seal bore into a person's frontal lobe. It had not prepared him for the messy and choking paths it laced across the orbital neurons.

It hadn't prepared him for the ridiculous knot of chakra that rested just behind a major artery.

He had consulted with Tsunade-baa-chan. Had asked Hiashi a list of growing list of questions, some of which the old jerk couldn't answer at all.

But he remembered his promises. All those willingly foisted chains that he'd kept adding to. He would keep working when he could, but was often interrupted by news regarding outside political turmoil or expectations.

Among all the invitations sat a particularly intricately embossed envelope. A stiff crimson paper enfolding a gaudy card written on with gold ink.

A personal invitation from the Daimyo to come to the capital for an official party to celebrate Naruto's upcoming inauguration.

He had wanted to throw it away. To burn it in his frustration with the state of affairs, but Hinata had already answered yes to hers.

And he wouldn't leave her alone in that lonely, gaping city with its serpents hidden in silk. Not again.

So he answered yes to the invite, his pen invariably punching holes in the lovely card stock as he restrained his irritation.

The capital was a lovely place. The perfect blend of the modern machinations and traditional architecture giving way to high rise buildings.

It was set just a few miles away from the base of the Land of Fire's tallest mountain range. A glimmering metropolis that was circled by a more sparse arrangement of rich homes and then further out, by a bunch of pretty little agricultural lands.

The city had been planned from its earliest existence, so that was probably why the imperial red of the Daimyo's castle didn't look staunchly out of place in the more modern surroundings.

It wasn't the largest castle Naruto had seen, but it was certainly one of the most elegant.

And it wasn't the large steps leading up to the main golden doors that made him exhausted. It was the protocol he had to remember.

It was the restriction of the dark dress pants and the collared shirt starched so stiff, that he could barely wave hello to the few people he might know.

But Tsunade has insisted and Sakura had all but threatened to bodily throw him out of the hotel room window if he kept complaining about the formal attire.

(It seemed the Imperial Court had invited several of his friends to attend the fete.)

But beyond that all, it was Hinata's urgent warnings that had stuck with him the most. It was her large, pleading eyes that had made him seriously consider the situation.

"Please keep all your game pieces secret. He loves playing games. You have all the power in this moment...just please, don't let him know that you do."

He'd met the Daimyo only once before. A quick, fairly impressionless meeting that hadn't stayed long in his mind. But the way Hinata spoke about the man made him sound so much more intimidating than just an old man worried about a rebellious son.

And to be sure, when the doors opened and he was lead down a long hallway paneled with intricate paper screens depicting dragons and warriors, he was beginning to wonder if all the show of power wasn't merely a compensation. Perhaps the Daimyo had held more power than his drooping wrinkles had belied.

"Welcome, Uzumaki-san. Hero of the world. It is a pleasure."

His willowy voice reach Naruto surprisingly well across the vast expanse of the courtroom. The Daimyo rested languidly on an intricately gilded chair, his thin frame sinking into the plush red velvet as his robes nearly swallowed him whole.

The years had not been kind to the Daimyo, as it seemed even the wrinkles had wrinkles, and his eyes were dull and tired.

Naruto bowed his head, hiding a grimace as he sank to his knees to sit in the standard seiza position.

"Nice to meet you again, sir." Even to his own self, the words sounded false and angry. It was no wonder his reticence didn't go unnoticed.

The Daimyo's laughter was an unpleasant thing to hear. A ringing, wheezing sound that was as mocking as it was amused.

"You are only the second honest shinobi to come before me. And yet, where the day cannot hide its light, the moon can learn to present a beautiful and false face. Don't you agree, Uzumaki-san?"

Naruto did not let his gaze waver. He let all his emotions seep into his glimmering blue eyes, let his normally roiling chakra float off into a hazy, vaguely heavy thing that permeated the room.

It was a subtle threat. Something he'd learned from Sasuke and something that worked well against those who could not use chakra.

He saw it the moment it reached the Daimyo. A bit of pity stirred in Naruto's chest when he saw the old man shudder. But then, the lord's shoulder rose underneath his gaudy robes. His chin lifted a little higher and his nostrils flared with the effort to maintain a bit of dignity.

"Not a fan of riddles, I take it." The Daimyo said blithely, his smile waning as he took in a silent Naruto.

"No, sir."

The Daimyo laughed again.

"Well then, I shall speak plainly. I have my sources Uzumaki-san...and I will warn you, Hinata Hyuuga belongs to my son until such time as she accomplishes her promise."

Naruto stilled. The pressure in the room was suddenly noticeable and the temperature had gone up several degrees, as evidence by the beads of sweat that had begun to gather on the Daimyo's forehead underneath his thinning dark hair.

"I didn't...you don't have the ri-"

"I have the right. She gave it to me of her own free will. And raising your chakra against me will have no positive outcome, young impetuous one." The Daimyo tilted his head in curiousity. "I wonder...you don't seem to know just why she's placed herself in my command."

Naruto couldn't answer. Confusion and logic building up to remind him of Hinata's advice. If he acted out on his emotions, he would lose this confrontation.

He sort of understood now why Hinata handled her diplomacy the way she did. She hadn't been given much of an option and his heart ached to think of her in this same spot, so small and maybe scared as she awaited judgement.

"The day grows late, Uzumaki-san and your party preparations are still underway. So before I ask you to leave, I will give you another riddle. They say that the sun dies everyday so the moon can shine. But is that truly the case when it is the moon who gives up her light?"

And somewhere in between this parting reply and leaving the horrible, oppressing atmosphere of the palace, Naruto finds himself shoving his anger down into his muscles and propelling himself across the city in a fury.

The sun is setting in the lovely distance and the slight smog that drifts low over the city gives the orange a hazy, dreamy feeling.

He was choking. He was angry. He was determined to free Hinata from this place...and he set his plans into motion as the nightly sounds of the city gave him inspiration.

The moon hung in the sky, full and beautiful as she arced towards her zenith. It was a young winter night, bathed in silver and the night life of the buzzing Capital; here it seemed no one ever slept. Bustling and busy, it was a night for lovers of all ages to walk hand in hand, the warmth of the weather enveloping them. It was a night for coffee shops and friends and gossip, maybe even a bit of karaoke. It was a night for youthful bar fights and swaying hips and a bit of depravity. It was a night for those living in laughter and blissful (sometimes willful) ignorance.

For Hinata, it was another night of pouring over musty, old Hyuuga scrolls, searching for anything, any clue to help with the current dilemma. She felt she would go insane; edict after edict, rule after rule. The very foundations of her clan were written in neat and controlled sweeps; the cracked, cruel foundations upon which a family had been broken and a clan had taken its place. For all their visual prowess, the old Hyuuga founders had been unable to see the fatal flaws of their own design. Unable to grow and adapt, their precious clan was now crumbling from the inside out with corruption spreading like a blight.

And she would try her damnest to catch the pieces.

She had been here ever since they had gotten back from the meeting with the Daimyo. Still in her day clothes, she sat at the desk, legs swinging as she perused the scrolls. The loose maroon skirt of her simple dress swung cheerily with the movement. Hinata removed her glasses, rubbing her tired eyes straining to read under the dim light of the desk lamp. She sighed, upset at her lack of progress.

She felt the weight on her neck, the slim pendant heavier than ever before and the building pressure of a deadline as Naruto's celebration loomed closer and closer. Her only consolation was that Kazuhiko was not here yet, gone off on some trip for trade agreements with the Land Of Tea.

She did not notice the creeping figure on the balcony, the city lights outlining a tall form.

Naruto watched through the balcony glass as Hinata stretched, her white cardigan slipping slightly,revealing milky, smooth skin and a sleeveless dress. He admired the way the dull light of the lamp created haloes of light across her braided hair. His heart raced and the blood rushed to his face.

.

He tugged at the uncomfortable dressy black pants and dark blue collared shirt. His once neat clothes were mussed and wrinkled, the shirt untucked from his waistband, the tie gone and several top buttons open.

On the way back through the city, the strains of laughter and music filled the streets and he

Smiled beyond his angry haze. His wrath had turned into an itch for fun, a burning need for a moment of mischief after his unfruitful meeting with the Daimyo.

The others had already dispersed, wanting to enjoy their night and time in the city. Hinata however was still in her room, having stayed there for hours mulling over the scrolls she had brought with her. So he decided to help her have a break, and being Naruto, inspiration hit him as he traveled back.

So he quickly formulated this plan, wherein he would sweep in heroically through the balcony and whisk her away into the night for an adventure. This would be one more step in his "Romancing Hinata

operation." For which he had only a month left before she would leave Konoha again, to live here in this city and…His fists clenched at the thought of what would happen.

(That stupid prince was better off not being here at the moment, or something bad would have happened.)

He had not expected himself to be struck dumb at the sight of her pouring over old, dingy scrolls. He had not expected to fall so hard for someone, and even now the knot in his throat rivalled the knot he was trying to undo in the Caged Bird seal. The racing of his heart

told him that no one, not even Sakura, had ever made him feel this way. It was a wholly new and beautifully unsettling feeling.

He gathered himself up, his bravado returning and his fists made their way to sit on his hips, looking like the overly masculine hero of some cheesy romance novel that he may or may not have written for the Icha Icha series.

The rap tap tap on her balcony door had Hinata turn quickly, her body tensing and her chakra rising slightly. She turned to look at her visitor and a warm smiled crossed her face as she saw who it was.

Blonde hair turned near gold by the illumination of the high rises, a foxy grin and blue eyes nearly glowing in glee.

Her face flushed red and her stomach turned upside down. She quietly padded to the door and unlocked it, the tiny click jolting her slightly. He smiled as he waited patiently, snickering inwardly as he saw her adjust her slipping cardigan and her wide eyed stare.

"N-naruto?" She said, damning her flustered stutter.

"What are you doing inside, little lady?" Naruto joked, wincing as he used a line, word for word from that cheesy romance novel that he may or may not have written.

She looked back at the pile of scrolls, lonely in the lamplight.

"Research."

He held out his right hand towards her, palm face up.

"Come on and take a break." He said quietly, his heart beating so hard that he could barely pull off the nonchalant look.

She smiled.

"I would like to, bu-"

He shifted slightly, and the slight pout forming on his lips and the dull anticipation in his eyes had her stop. She smiled softly, seeing past his façade.

"Okay." She said and she quickly donned a pair of flats.

He felt his stomach leap to his throat as she placed her hand in his. He gulped.

"Where to Naruto?" She asked lightly.

And she was completely unprepared when he pulled her towards him, her face ridiculously close to his chest and her cheek pressed against his bare skin. She did not have time to process her thoughts because she was then swept up into his arms and down they went twelve stories off the ground and

onto the nearby rooftop.

Only one thought crossed her mind as she squealed at the sudden leap into the lively night.

Why couldn't he ever use the stairs?

The lonely lamp was still on, illuminating the scrolls and a mug of bright yellow honey flowers. (Love,sweet and secret)

"Have you ever danced, Hinata?"

Their maybe someday had come true; no more empty promises between them.

Her eyes widened as she realized just where he had brought them.

"Naruto…this is…"

She squinted slightly at the bright sign, a neon thing of garish yellow that hurt her eyes, and yet as odd as the little establishment seemed, dim lighting barely evident from outside, there was a long line already forming and a large gentleman in a too-tight black suit seemed to be controlling who entered.

"A Dance Club!" Naruto gestured wildly, his tall frame coiled with excitement, the balls of his feet

bouncing and she could not help but be swept up in his enthusiasm.

"But do you dance Naruto?" She asked, a thin eyebrow quirked questioningly.

Her answer was a softer grin, cobalt eyes burning intensely and making her toes wiggle in nervousness and an odd sensation pooled in her stomach. He tilted his face ever so handsomely, and she could not help the sigh that escaped her lips and the flush creeping up her neck.

She looked at those in the line; some of the women were dressed in elaborate dresses, swinging skirts and heels several inches tall. The men wore mostly dress pants, neatly polished shoes and button down shirts, just like…Naruto's. She frowned.

She was certainly underdressed.

And as if he had read her mind, he bent down to her as she gazed at the others, and she shivered. His lips maneuvered low, just inches from where her jawline disappeared into her inky hair. His warm breath teasing her ear.

"You're perfect, Hinata."

His tongue seemed to caress her name, rolling around the syllables sensuously, and he could not suppress the slight smirk as she turned bright red.

She lifted her head to look away, her hair effectively hiding her flustered expression. (Again with the flirtations…she had to learn that this was his new way of joking, just more mischief.)

"T-the line…it's a bit too long don't you think?"

Naruto's crestfallen expression was subtle. (She still refused to believe that his flirtation was genuine.)

Hinata turned back towards him when he did not answer.

Quickly, he gathered his expression into a wide Cheshire cat grin. (But he had been too slow, too slow for someone who had watched him as Hinata had.) He waved at someone over her head, grinning happily, winking.

Hinata turned and saw that it was the bouncer. She huffed, smiling fondly. 'Knowing him, he will

probably charm his way in.'

She began to think differently when the man scowled, his expression thoughtful. She hoped this would not lead to any violence. And though the man was large and rotund, Naruto was taller still, his lithe frame cutting an impressive figure, dressed uncharacteristically in darker colors.

"Hey there Jirou!" He grinned charmingly, and waved brightly.

Hinata gaped. He already knew the person.

"Naruto! Finally took my offer, I see," Jirou greeted warmly, his scowl devolving into a smile. He looked pointedly at Hinata by Naruto's side. "This your girl?"

Naruto blushed slightly, and looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck in typical Naruto fashion. Hinata smiled genuinely, cheeks rosy from the implication. She turned to Jirou and extended a small hand in greeting.

"My name is Hinata Hyuuga, it is a pleasure to meet you, Jirou-san." She chirped cheerily, raising her voice over the din of music and conversations.

He chuckled. "The pleasure's all mine, Hyuuga-san. I'm a fan of your work."

Here Hinata nodded graciously, embarrassed.

He clicked open the velvet rope, quelling the slight protests of those still in line. Many of them were craning to get a better look at the couple, having heard Naruto's name. Hinata grimaced as she looked at several of the women leering at her future Hokage, unabashedly fluffing their hair and squeezing their cleavage.

She was too bothered to notice that Naruto was looking at no one but her.

Her hand unconsciously reached for his, and she tightened her grip, leading a surprised Naruto briskly through the door, the sounds of annoying fangirl voices fading away into the loud calls of trumpets and drums, the room thrummed with energy and couples twirled across the dance smiled broadly, her eyes shining as she turned towards a bemused Naruto.

"This is a swing dance club!"

His heart stopped at the sweet expression on her face, and he was made all the more aware of her hand gripping his.

He cleared his throat.

"Don't you wanna dance now?"

She turned back towards him questioningly.

"How do you know I can?"

"The way you fight and the way your entire body unconsciously moves to a beat you enjoy." He grinned.

She threw her head back and laughed.

"No, really how?" She asked.

He shrugged.

"Hanabi told me."

Suddenly, the trumpet and the drums and the low thrum of the cello reached a crescendo that resonated through her tiny frame, and Naruto was pleased to note that her feet were tapping.

The cheery, varied rhythm hummed through him as well, and he itched to begin. (Such an odd music phenomenon, this swing thing, but imported from a small western nation, its popularity had grown immensely in the larger cities.)

He held out his hand towards her, and she looked up at him wonderingly, silently asking how.

"A lot can happen in five years." He smiled softly, expectantly, a kind of hope sparking in his eyes. And it was that gentle look that made Hinata confidently place her hand in his, nodding.

And so they began, a series of twirls and jumps and feet moving so fast, it was unfathomable how they knew the movements. It was breathtaking. It was an adrenaline-rush. It was so coordinated.

With his quick moving feet and long legs creating the patterns (Not to mention that sunshine hair and those sea blue eyes) and her maroon skirt and midnight hair spiraling wildly at his behest, they were beautiful to look at.

And it was utterly improvised.

Oh they knew movements, but there had been no rehearsal, no learned choreography for the song. They followed the beats, taking cues from each other about when to move back, when to turn, when to leap. It required complete trust in their partner and it was something envious, because they had that trust. It was a bone deep bond built by years of hardship and tested by distance and intrigue.

The other dancers watched in slight envy and awe, unknowingly trying to match their movements to that of the newly entered couple.

Hinata laughed as her hair fell from its braid, her cardigan slipping from her shoulders, and she marveled at Naruto's ability to improvise, to follow the variable rhythms of the song.

She saw him grin, his hands tightening ever so slightly on her waist and his fingers lacing through her

own inextricably. She felt the raw strength coiled in his form, and the beating of his heart thrumming through her, bodies pressed together. It was only them here in this moment; only their rhythm and their movements syncing to the beat of something beautiful and whole.

Closer and father, closer and farther they became. A changing distance paralleling their real life

relationship with a silly, little irony. And yet Naruto could not help but think that no matter what, she always came back to him, and she always would, as long as their hands remained linked.

Hinata could feel the cardigan slipping off, the slight dip in the back of the dress becoming apparent with each movement, each sway of her hair. And she could feel his hand brush smoothly up from her waist, up and back until the raw heat of his touch was flat against her bare skin, his fingers tracing where the dip ended.

Then the beat changed, more up tempo, building and building till she knew what would inevitably come next. She knew then that they were one when his hand slid torturously from her skin back to down to her waist, and gripped it tightly, Then she counted.

3,2,1

She leaped in time and he twirled her over his outstretched arm, she curled into herself, making it easier. The world went topsy-turvy and in a blur all she caught sight of was eyes of blue and a

breathtaking expression crossing her partner's face.

She barely had time to recover on her feet as he pulled her towards him, and her body was pressed against his for another second. (But to them both it felt like a wonderful, blissful eternity.)

The trumpets reached another crescendo and Naruto again signaled with a hand on her waist. She felt herself slide under his wide stance, and be pulled back up again, and one last twirl…

The music ended and she was in his arms again, dipped so low and staring into his eyes, nearly nose to nose. Both of them were breathing heavily.

He could feel her chest pressed against his, moving in and out as she breathed, torturously teasing him. The slight sheen of sweat across her forehead and the flush of her cheeks brought to mind too many inappropriate images and he gulped as he imagined her with the same wide eyed blush, somewhere else entirely.

Hinata saw him move closer imperceptibly, and she did not know if it was him moving closer or if it was herself, but her eyes became half-lidded and her head tilted ever so slightly. Her lips parted and she heard her heart thrumming in her ears, louder still than the music had been.

He could see the faint traces of quicksilver, swirling like starlight in her eyes. His lips were mere inches away and he could smell the alluring scent of hibiscus. His fingers gripped her waist tighter, relishing in the feel. He moved closer, as did she.

Closer…closer…

And then came the applause.

They stopped, mere centimeters away, and quickly distanced themselves nervously, hearts beating fast at what had almost happened.