This is my first Hina/Gaa, with a few extra pairings I sprinkled in just for the fun of it. They aren’t my favorite pairing in the whole wide world, but I like Gaara and I like Hinata, so GaaHIna can’t be all that bad, right…?
-AO
This chapter (and presumably, the ones that will follow) are written in separated POVs, starting with Gaara’s, then Hinata, then back to Gaara to wrap it up. But it should be clear who is who (I hope)
Like Heaven
Chapter 1: Scent
“I can’t believe they’re making me do this…”
“Then why do you even come? Let’s just go home.”
Temari rolled her emerald eyes at me; the only aspect of her appearance that we shared that hinted at our own blood relationship. She shuffled some well inked papers into a pile and forced them unceremoniously into a manilla envelope, licking her thumb for to moisten the sticky parts with so she didn’t have to taste the awful envelope glue.
“That’s all you’ve been saying since you got here…In fact, that seems to be the only thing you say when we go anywhere outside of Sunaga for anything other than a mission.”
When I didn’t answer, she fired the typical sarcastic “Talkative as always” line at me, and continued on to penning her name onto the front of the envelope in a flowery cursive. Temari was here for one of her precious Chuunin exam meetings; why she always insisted on being apart of that idiotic practice I didn’t know. I had come to take her home, thought she was sure taking her time finishing up. From the emptiness of the room I had found her in, it appeared that she was the last one still lingering behind. But that, at the moment, was the very least of my worries.
Temari looked up a little from her work.
“What’s wrong?”
I must have been making a face without realizing it.
“…you smell.”
She did. It was like when something…alive gets caught in the fireplace. Or when you throw flowers into a pyre. Sickly sweet, yet bitterly pungent. She looked at me like I had told her she was ugly.
“What business do you have sniffing me??”
“I can’t help it. It’s burning the inside of my nose.”
She huffed. “I was just here with a room full of other ninjas ruder than you, and they didn’t have a problem with my smell.”
She poked me once, playfully in the forehead, right on my self inflicted tattoo/scar.
“You’re just imagining it.”
I knit my brows; she was lucky she was my sister, anyone else who touched me like that wouldn’t have kept that finger for long. But that didn’t mean she was out of danger yet.
“Gaara?”
“What?”
My answer was just a little more curt than usual, and she noticed my agitation.
“It’s happening again, isn’t it?”
I tried to keep my face neutral, but that was hard when a thousand year old demon was scrapping his nails all across my insides trying to get out. To do what, I didn’t know exactly…but I had a pretty good idea. As did most other people who knew about my…condition.
“No.”
Her face turned uncharacteristically concerned.
“Don’t lie to me, Gaara—I can hear the sand sloshing around in your gourd.”
“It’s not more than I can handle Temari.”
I made sure the sand stopped, and nodded towards her envelope.
“Just hurry up and finish.”
She looked disappointed, but did as I told her. I was a bit disappointed as well; disappointed that she smelled so horrible. Shukaku was rattling his cage trying to get out, and it kept me more alert than I ever thought humanly possible to keep him inside. All my senses were amplified a hundred fold, and everything made me want to spill blood in my state of mind.
It was when my nose became sensitive that really tipped the scaled though. I could smell the blood inside of people, feel their static-y chakra pulse in time with their hearts on my skin. The smell of it, the feel of it, even the sight of something especially red made me want to spill someone’s innards all over the floor and just smear them all over the walls. It wouldn’t be a stupid bet to say this was all or at least partly Shukaku’s doing; making my overload my senses until I broke (hopefully for him in a crowded area) so I could fulfill his wretched, morbid desire for blood. At least, that’s what I inferred he was after.
Temari though, smelled wonderful when I was like this. It was…embarrassing to say the least, and I found no pride telling her she was often the only thing keeping me from going on a rampage. So I never did, and tried to stay within her general vicinity when Shukaku was feeling…anxious.
She didn’t smell like blood, like everyone else (even Kankurou). It was like…something floral, something not too sweet, something soft and gentle. It was soothing, and it seemed to numb my senses enough for me not to overload on the smell of blood and flesh. When she left for Konoha, I couldn’t bring myself to sniff the clothes she left behind like some deranged stalker person, so I made the three day journey in a one and a half day sprint, Shukaku having a merry time with my head the whole way.
And then I finally get here, and she smells like barbeque? It was disappointing to say the least, but at least it incurred no feelings of bloodlust within me, as offensive as it was. I stayed with her still, hoping perhaps beyond hope that her smell would return or at least burn my nose so badly that I couldn’t smell anyone else.
“There. I’ll just drop this off, and then I’ll show you where I’m staying.”
I nearly killed her right then.
“Staying?? I thought you were just going to a meeting.”
I’d heard her wrong. She had a slip of tongue. We weren’t staying in horrible, population-dense Konoha where I could hurt so many more people. Where I couldn’t turn the corner without being in a crowd of hundreds. Where I would probably either loose my mind from restraint or loose my hold and others would loose their lives.
“Yeah, it’s a three day extravaganza.”
She said the last part in a cynical loud announcer’s voice. Like it was a joke. Ha ha I think I’ll go shoot myself.
“Three…days?”
I kept my voice calm, kept my countenance from portraying my inner annoyance while my ears rung with Shukaku’s maniacal laughter.
“Hai.”
“Three…whole days?”
“No Gaara, Three quarter days. Of course three whole days!”
She said, a bit angrily. But then her mood lightened considerably and she placed her hand on my head; a rare show of affection from someone like my sister.
“I know it’ll be tough for you since you don’t like being around a lot of people. Thanks for coming to pick me up anyway. I’ll make sure as soon as this is done we’ll leave right away, alright?”
“…Fine.” She smiled (crookedly, since she was so unaccustomed to anything but a competitive sneer) and a soft breeze blew through the window through her hair. Her scent was coming back…Shukaku started to calm and as he did, I felt myself mellowing out as well. My shoulders relaxed and I shrunk a few inches; I hadn’t noticed how tightly wound I had been just a few seconds ago.
“C’mon, I’ll drop this off and then we can go back into town.”
I gave no verbal answer but I nodded and followed her into the hall. I was now sufficiently pacified; everything seemed to be falling back into better places, and I felt no urge to spill the blood of innocents.
Then from out of the corner of my eye, I saw her.
I heard her before I saw her; I sensed distress before my other senses (namely my rational mind) could react. A scream, shrill feminine. She fell past the window to my right, and without thinking, I jumped out after her. I heard Temari yell after me.
A few years ago, I would have let her fall. Others didn’t concern me before I had met Uzumaki Naruto, before I became Kazekage, before I had been determined to try and make others more important to me than I was to myself. Before I had pledged to become as strong and stronger than Naruto, and defy the kanji on my forehead.
A few months ago, I would have reacted too late. I was a man, not an animal; but right now I was as close as humanly possible. Shukaku had upped my senses, and I had felt the rumble of the crumbling support above me, the increased pulse of her chakra signaling her fear, and known exactly what was going to happen.
If I hadn’t been there, she would have fallen to her death. But now that I had caught her, had her in my arms, and landed safely…she was in a lot more peril.
It wasn’t her fetal cringing body that did it; her arms that clung to me long after the perceived danger was passed, holding fistfuls of my cloak in small, impossibly delicate hands. It wasn’t her long plum colored hair that was now flowing over her face and shoulders in disarray like flowing water. Or her small heart shaped face that shyly looked up at me with milky white eyes that filled with fear the second realization hit her features.
It was her smell. It drove Shukaku crazy. It was like breathing in heaven, the smell of her blood. And I was holding her right now, in my arms, inhaling mouthfuls. It overpowered me. It claimed my soul.
I wanted that warm wonderful scent to spill out all over the ground.
I wanted to rip her apart more than I had ever wanted anything else in my entire life.
“Ga…G-G…”
She tried to say something, but her fear crippled her speech, and her voice sounded high and tinkly like bells. But that didn’t matter—it was her breath, little bursts that escaped her every time she spoke. Like gas to the flame. I was shaking. Shukaku was tearing me apart inside, it was taking everything I had not to do what I knew I wanted to do so badly it hurt. So badly it physically hurt me.
She had been better off as a broken corpse after the fall. Now that she was with me…with her maddening scent. I imagined the pulsing blood through her veins underneath that fretful layer of pale, almost translucent skin…warm and red and…
No. No. No. NO.
I placed her down, as fast as I could, Shukaku raving inside seeing his prey getting farther away. But my hands wouldn’t obey. I couldn’t let her go—even as she stood before me, probably scared out of her mind by now by the way I was looking at her (like I was looking at something to eat). My hands gripped her shoulders and would not relinquish their hold.
“G-gomen, Gaara-sama.” Her voice was soft, low, and dainty. Surely it was meant to placate me, but her breath only made my grip on her tighter. Only made her grip on me tighter.
A horrible voice suddenly whispered in my head.
Just take her away. She’s not strong enough to fight you; take her somewhere secluded. Let me take over, Gaara-kun. Get it out of your system.
Her eyes were pleading to me.
I want her so badly! You never let me have any fun anymore.
Those milky eyes belonged to a Hyuuga. There would be repercussions from this kill…Perhaps even the nullification of any alliance with Konoha. Not to mention an end to any friendships Temari or Kankurou had made here.
Or any I ever hoped to have…had I dared to hope that…
You can’t tell me you can fight this.
I will. I will. I will, I chanted in my head, like a mantra, softly to myself. I hoped she heard me, hoped she thought I was crazy, and fought me off and ran. But I knew she wouldn’t be strong enough. And I knew what I was saying to Shukaku was a lie. I could already feel a cold darkness creping through my fingers, numbness setting in. Shukaku was winning, and if I wasn’t able to do something soon, her wonderful smelling blood would be all over my hands very, very soon. Or worse…I had no idea what kind of horrible torture Shukaku had in store for this girl he’d picked out; he was trying to make her so irresistible to me I couldn’t fight him.
And it was working.
You’re slipping! He sang in his horrible craggy voice, as I felt my senses go numb. I’ll let you back your body soon, I’ll only need it for a second. Something within me smiled; undoubtably Shukaku.
I tried to hold on. Tried to keep myself from doing the unthinkable. Tried to save those milky pleading pearls from her fate…
And then it was white. And I slipped…all I heard was maniacal laughter.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I can’t believe they’re making me do this…”
“Oh, but it’s not really all that bad. It’s actually a bit of an honor to be chosen to be a proctor.”
I followed Kiba into the roundish and large main building in Konoha, taking special care not to get my hair caught in the door again (I still wasn’t used to the length, and long free-flowing hair is especially unwieldy and cumbersome).
“I’m just going to drop this off at the office, and then we can get back to training, kay?”
Kiba waved a large, important looking manila envelope, smiling with a glittering sharp smile that almost blinded me. Even if they were comparably unhygienic in most other ways, the Inuzuka clan sure knew how to keep teeth clean.
“Um…sure. I’ll go with you…”
We had come to Konoha’s main building to drop off some Chuunin exam papers; Kiba had been asked (meaning “forcefully drafted by Tsunade-sama”) to be a proctor this year. I had, of course, gotten out of such a bothersome task (using what Kiba liked to call my “puppydog-face-no-jutsu”).
…I really couldn’t understand why some people like even volunteered for the Chuunin exam. All you did was sit there and watch for cheaters unless you were one of the main proctors…Shikamaru decided to do it every year for whatever reason, so I guess there was some intellectual challenge that went with it, but it was just boring for me. Not to mention the off chance I would have to confront a crowd of rowdy adolescent ninjas. Or talk to a crowd of young ninjas…Or stand in front of a crowd of younger gennins…
You can see my predicament, being the scared, pathetic excuse for a kunoichi that I was.
I followed Kiba down the hall, barely keeping up with his gait; he seemed rather eager to return to training. Akamaru trailed diligently at his heels, his now large and muscular legs gently scraping his paws on the tile, leaving scuff marks I’m sure he’d regret leaving later when Tsunade-sama found out. I walked over towards the end of the hall, where there was a balcony overlooking Konoha.
“Hey, watchit, okay? I heard some of those bricks are kind of loose; they just finished patching up the side that Gai and Kakashi broke in their last competition.”
Kiba was the only one I knew bold enough (or was it just flat out disrespect?) to say our sensei’s names without honorifics. At least, while they weren’t around.
“Ok, I’ll try not to fall.”
Later, I would laugh at the irony of that statement.
Konoha stretched out for miles in front of me; I’d never had any idea how grand it looked from Central. Verdant hills, the mountains strategically guarding the village, oddly shaped houses and buildings…and green, green, green. I guess we aren’t called “those who hide in the leaves” for nothing.
A strong (yet somehow childish) battle cry erupted from the hills to the east, and sent my eyes following after it. My Byakugan reacted faster than I did, and I knew who it was before I could turn my head.
“Rasengan!!”
“Naruto.” I could feel a smile secret smile forming on my lips even as I whispered it quietly to myself. He must be training again…the breeze carried his cry as well as his training partner’s loud whining towards me. “…and Shikamaru.” Hee hee. With all of Naruto’s energy and Shikamaru’s lack thereof, it was hard to believe they could actually stand each other.
The whining got louder. I could only assume it was Naruto this time; Shikamaru had probably threatened to leave or something by now, and Naruto was begging him to stay. My smile grew a little more thinking about what I imagined was happening.
“Naruto, that’s cheating. If I can’t use my Kagemane how can you use your Rasengan?” Shikamaru would say, his semi-permanent sleepy-slash-annoyed expression on his face.
“Well that’s because you’re smarter. And since I can’t make you stupider, I get to use Rasengan. It all balances out, see?” Naruto would smile at his own silly excuse to use his favorite technique.
“That makes no sense at all. I’m leaving.” Shikamaru would state matter-of-factly, and start to leave.
“No! No! Hey-HEY come back! C’mon Shikamaru, no one else wants to train!”
Had I been watching him for so long that his moves have become predictable? That was hard to believe, since Naruto has always been the most unpredictable ninja. In fact, his unpredictability was the only predictable thing about him (if that makes any sense at all). That and his fascination with getting stronger.
Always trying to getting stronger, aren’t you? It won’t be long before I can’t even keep up with you anymore…Before you’ll be as distant as the sun setting in the pre-night sky…
Kiba’s voice also sounded distant in my constant state of mind? It didn’t sound too important…
A strong breeze. I held my shoulders and leaned forward onto the balcony.
Someone close by yelled my name.
I felt the balcony shudder beneath me, and I was too shocked to react appropriately. For a second I was in a state of balance; reluctant to fall. It was the strange feeling you get when leaning on the back of your chair’s legs, upright, but just about to give way to gravity. Looking back, I should have known what was going to happen. But that strange feeling scared me, and the impulse to flee was replaced by confusion. What was happening…?
“K-Kiba??”
“Hinata!! Get the hell away from there!”
I heard his footsteps coming, and heard him urge Akamaru ahead to try and pull me to safety. But even in my state, I knew they were too far down the hall to get to me. And my legs weren’t working at all the way they should…one of the many downfalls of being easily scared out of your wits.
A heard the crack first. Like rock crunching, I felt the fault appear beneath my feet. Then…nothingness. I was falling. I heard someone screaming; and when horrible clarity came, I realized it was me.
Maybe it was because it wasn’t my time yet. Maybe it was because it all happened so fast. Whatever the reason, all those stories about life flashing before your eyes before death turned out to be wrong, and all I could think about were facts. I was on the uppermost floor—almost at the roof. I was falling from the uppermost floor. The ground beneath me was solid; I was going to land on my legs.
If I landed sideways, they would brake. If I landed on my bottom…that too, would brake. Shatter, probably. If I landed on my feet, the impact would probably push my legs into my chest cavity and kill me. Landing on my head and arms at this point was impossible; there wasn’t enough time to maneuver that way. Landing on my chest or back was not an option.
My options: suck.
My chance of survival: slim.
Dieing from a fall I could have easily avoided: sad.
There are some things money can’t buy. For everything else, there’s…
I felt a thud, and my eyes snapped shut.
…The ground was a bit softer than I thought it would be. It didn’t feel hard like rock…it felt like…
…Muscle. I felt strong arms holding me, carrying me. I realized I was gripping tightly onto cloth, probably clothes. Clothes on a cold, hard chest. I opened my eyes just a bit, and found that I was indeed in the arms of some wonderful person who had saved my life (or at least saved me from the embarrassment of a butt-cast, if those even exist).
He (I was guessing a he, since I was not uncomfortably nestled in a pair of woman pillows) was wearing dark black clothes, and the material was strangely thin. My hands were holding bundles of this black cloth at the chest, and even as I loosened my grip a little, I could feel his skin underneath it; and it was abnormally cold. The hand holding me at the shoulder (the only one I could see without having to move very much) was paler than most. And he still hadn’t said one word…Should all this have scared me? Bothered me? Alerted me to possible danger? Probably. But that wasn’t really what I was thinking about right now.
What I was doing was giving my brain a second to stop sloshing around in my head. I’m Alive! No shattered butt! No legs-in-chest-cavity! No humiliating eulogy about my pathetic death!
I was saved!
My eyes flew upward to thank the face of my savior.
And then someone ripped out my heart, put it in a blender, and pressed purée.
Blood red, untamed tresses framing white skin. Dark rings that eclipsed brow-less emerald stones, that were somehow dull and perhaps even…soulless? Kanji carved onto white marble, “Love” on the morbidly beautiful face of the scariest ^%#$ing ninja in the entire world. Maybe the universe.
I was staring straight into the face of Gaara no Sabaku, the Kazekage. And he was staring back.
I was dead!
It was the most intense stare I had ever been on the receiving end of. Hiashi’s disappointed scowls were nothing compared to this. To top it off, he seemed irritated, and not in a passive way. In an angry way. And from what I’ve been told, “Angry” Gaara meant “dead” Hinata.
“G-ga…Ga…G-g-g…”
My throat seized up. It didn’t take much to scare me, and the stare he was giving me could have scared anyone. So of course I, Hinata, the most brave and courageous of konoha kunoichi, was petrified beyond (recognizable) words.
“You…”
His voice was low, strained, and accusatory. Like it pained him just to utter that one word to me. He was showing more emotion in his face than I’d ever seen on him, though I was fairly certain none of them were “happy” ones right now. He lowered me down, but his hands still retained a firm grip on my shoulders, they might as well have been made of stone. I was a little grateful my legs didn’t give out as I was given the oppurtinity to stand.
The stare remained the same, only it seemed more confused this time. Like he couldn’t figure out what to do with me. His lips formed a tight line. I braced myself for death, for the second time that hour. I wanted to look away from those emerald stones, but I was a deer in the headlights. Hyuuga heiress killed by reigning Kazekage. Suna vs Konoha: This time, its war! I could see the newspapers already.
He muttered something else in an impossibly soft yet intense and obviously pressured tone, looking more agitated by the second. I could even hear the sand in that huge gourd shift around, doing a sadistic little death dance. He couldn’t want to kill me; I knew that…I just needed to calm him down…He was just angry at me for falling on him that’s all…
“(G-gomen…nasai…Gaara-sama…)”
I said as loud as I could muster, which for me was just a little louder than a whisper. I was able to tear my eyes away from him for a second and twiddle with my fingers, feeling much better by doing so…until I heard a guttural growl rumble from within his chest. My eyes turned to his, and flash of some emotion flitted across his features. He seemed like a different person, and triumphant somehow. I felt a sick feeling in my stomach, and I knew this “new” Gaara could mean nothing good.
His grip got so tight. It was so fast. He leaned in, pulled my body towards him, and…
…planted the fiercest kiss in the world right on my lips.
O_O (my expression, there are just no words I could give that would do a better job than this emoticon.)
I should have screamed or something, but it was all so sudden…and also all but impossible with his lips pressed decidedly on my own. It was harder than I’d often imagined my first kiss would be (obviously by my favorite fox boy), but my mind seemed unable to register that I was being kissed by intensely scary sandman person…guy.
This was some technique, I told myself.
Some soul sucking Harry Potter-- esque dementor kiss.
Nosferatu-no-jutsu! Gaara was a vampire ninja!!
Oh god! Was that…tongue?!?!
I’d fallen after all, and this was some kind of coma-hallucination dream. I’d wake up screaming in a few minutes, hooked up to respirators in Konoha hospital and 20 years older…
Then it was over, as abruptly as it had begun.
“I’msorry.” It was all one word as fast as he said it, and his eyes weren’t looking at me anymore; he seemed much more interested in the floor than I had ever been.
He pushed me as far away as he could. I couldn’t really tell because of his apparent lack of eyebrows, but he seemed…shocked. And maybe even…embarrassed?
“GAARA!”
Temari’s voice, but that too was as distant as Kiba’s had been. My heart was pounding in my ears. I must have looked like a tomato. His head seemed marginally clearer than my own, as he snapped to attention at the sound of his sister’s voice.
My heart beat faster. How much had she seen?
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”
My hands went to my cheeks, and I suddenly found the floor to be very interesting indeed. Why had I never noticed? Anyway, she had seen everything!! I was almost wishing it had been the floor that greeted my landing and not Gaara’s lips.
“HINATA!” Kiba’s voice. Akamaru was at the end of the hallway, refusing to go down the hall near Gaara, growling in his general direction in a defensive way.
Now it’s official; I wished I had died. I was dieing right now in a sense, mortified and as red as the Gaara’s hair.
Kiba ran up to me and stood between my tomato self and Gaara, as if to protect me.
“What did this guy do to you??”
Temari looked like she had a few (million) questions of her own, but Gaara was already walking away, taking large steps toward the nearest exit, his agitation rolling off him in waves I didn’t need my Byakugan to see. Temari ran to tail him, and soon it was just me and Kiba.
“Hinata if he did anything to hurt you…”
Kiba was speaking through sharp, clenched teeth. I knew if I told him what had happened, he would have followed Gaara, and probably done something incredibly brave (and incredibly stupid. And would have probably died for it.)
“…n-nothing. He didn’t do anything that b-bad…”
Which was true. I don’t know about you, but in my math “extremely uncomfortable kiss” > “death” any day.
Kiba was still glaring off in Gaara’s direction.
“He saved me.” I added to try and calm his nerves, but it appeared to only agitate him more.
“I could’ve done that…if I had been a little closer.” He said rather angrily, not looking at me, finding the walls as interesting as the floors had been to Gaara and I a second ago. I didn’t know if he was talking about the kiss or about the catch, but by the implied pouting tone of his voice, I kind of guessed a bit at both. “Look you stay away from that guy from now on, Alright? Prolly took him everything he had not to kill you just then, I doubt he’ll hold back next time.”
“…but…but I don’t think…”
But Kiba was already walking away, with angry determination, pulling at my arm so I wouldn’t trail far behind. Akamaru was gingerly stepping alongside him, his regular playful skip-like steps reduced to cautious patters. He kept looking back towards the direction Gaara had left from, and I couldn’t help but do the same.
That kiss…It didn’t feel planned, or even like he wanted to do it, or…like he wanted to hurt me. I had let all the things I heard about Gaara before work me up into a frenzy, but he hadn’t really look angry at me. There was something troubling him to be sure, though, other than the obvious growl and glare he was giving me, there were other signs. My byakugan, though not as well honed as Neji’s, worked well enough…
…He had looked down afterward, signaling embarrassment or shame. It wasn’t something he had wanted to do, not something planned. His grip on me had been tight, but I could have fought it…I could have gotten away from him before…that happened. My first kiss…stolen by Gaara of all people! Oh why hadn’t I been more careful? It was my own fault for not questioning the identity of my savior, and for not noticing until now the conflict in his eyes as I should have, being a kunoichi and all…
I would have to apologize to Gaara no Sabaku. Either that, or avoid him altogether…knowing me, I’d probably be doing the latter anyway. I sighed inwardly; maybe I should carve “pathetic” onto my forehead.
Still…my eyes wandered back towards the space he’d previously been standing right before Kiba pulled me around the corner. It was almost…nice. In a strange, violent kind of way. I realized what I was thinking, and my face went red again.
Either way, I would have to see Gaara no Sabaku again. It was better if I apologized.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Gaara what happened back there?”
I was walking as fast as I could, practically gliding out of that building, trying to put as much space between me and her as I could. Shukaku was laughing louder; I couldn’t hear what Temari was saying.
“You practically shoved your tongue down her throat!”
Is that all he had wanted? To make out with the Hyuuga girl? I knit my eyebrows in confusion. Is that why Temari, my own blood sister, was the only one who didn’t make me go crazy with an urge I now recognized as Shukaku-lust? What made this girl so different to him?
What if I hadn’t fought back when I had?
“Gaara! Answer me!”
Would he have…done something…worse to her??
I shuddered at the thought, and right now I was more mortified and troubled than I had ever been.
You liked it. You know you did. You liked it You liked it You liked it
“Gaara!”
“NO I DID NOT!”
Temari stopped dead thinking I had yelled at her, and I realized I had decided to yell out loud rather than inside my own head, like a sane crazy person. I looked away from her, waiting for her (awkward) reply.
“…I just asked if you wanted me to tell you her name. That response doesn’t even make sense.”
“NO I don’t want her name!”
I started to sprint away before she could answer. I could never know her name. I could never let myself get within another inch of her again. Shukaku wanted to do horrible things to her, with my body. And I might not be strong enough to hold him back.
I had resolved right then and there to stay the hell away from the Hyuuga with the wonderful scent. It was better this way, for the both of us.
*~*~*~*~*~*~
I hope they aren’t too OOC for your taste…I tried giving them a little more life, and I think maybe I took to many liberties with Hinata.
Well arr and arr please, it helps me feel better about doing this rather than HW. Ciao for now-
AO
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