NaruHina prompt: Naruto's old T-shirt.
AO3
“Be safe,” she whispered, pressing her lips against histemple. “Fight hard.”
“Hinata,” he breathed, the only word his lungs could find,her name a solace and a servitude, both. He drew her in closer, felt the heat of her,pressed his lips against her hair.
“Let’s go,”someone shouted, voice deep and ragged, a veteran in charge. There was a chorusof them, Naruto realized, an echo of destitution along the gates. They soundedso weary, so tired. “Let’s go.”
Naruto drew away from Hinata, his eyes moving across herfeatures, drinking her in. He wanted to remember her like this, in this moment,the light of dawn cresting over her cheekbones, the breeze toying with the endsof her mussed hair. Sunlight spilled over her, turned the ragged rust of his frayedshirt a brighter and more familiar shade of orange. Like the sunrise, she’d said, then laughed, or the sunset.
That had been so long ago—how old had they been, the firsttime he’d woken up to the sound of her moving things around in his kitchen,wearing nothing but that ugly orange shirt? He couldn’t remember—but he couldpicture the exact moment he saw her, hair piled atop her head, the hem of hisshirt grazing over her supple thighs. The smell of green tea, a hint of honey.The sound of her voice as she turned to him, morning light pooling over her,magnetic and mesmerizing.
Did you sleep well?
“I’ll come back,” Naruto promised, uncaring of the shoutsgrowing faint with distance, (let’s go,let’s go), proof that he was already falling behind. He heard only his ownwords and found the tremble in them, the pitfall, the possibilities of whatcould follow I’ll come back—
He wouldn’t say alive.He said, “I’ll come back soon.”
Hinata was stronger than he was. She didn’t tremble, didn’tshake. A single tear slipped over the elegance of her cheekbone, to thesoftened line of her jaw. She reached out to him, ran her thumb along thecorner of his lips, a familiar and comforting gesture. She smiled, and he knewit was for him in just the same waythat one recognizes their own home; with warmth and comfort and love.
Hinata moved towards him, onto the tips of her toes. Shepulled at his nape until their foreheads touched, and flinched when anothershout coursed over them. The fading time left for them to be together becamemore and more noticeable, until it was a palpable thing between them. Peoplewere already returning to the village, to their lives, having already sent offtheir loved ones. There were only a few people left lingering, pressed close,whispering quietly to one another. Hinata closed her eyes.
“Make it a promise,” she whispered, and Naruto’s heartlurched, ached, pounded. Never before had his ribs felt more like a cage. Narutomoved closer, pressed their lips together, tasted the salt of her skin, a single teartrack over her lips. He brushed it away with his thumb, watched the way hereyes came open to stare up into his. Sunrise, sunset, that disheveled shirt ofhis that she so loved to wear lit the perimeter of his vision bright, bright orange.
“It was, it is,”He whispered at last, pressing the words against her lips. “I stand by what Isay.”
Time snapped between them, a broken thing, and they parteduntil the air between them was sodden and heavy with it.
Naruto was an optimistic person; always had been, alwayswould be. But even someone as bright and full of hope as he was could stillfeel doubt, and uncertainty. It was in that moment that that uncertainty struckout at him, made him think, if this isthe last time that I see her—
There, in his ugly shirt, with pillow lines still creased onher cheek from his bedsheets and theheart she so freely gave to him pushing heat into her cheeks, he thought—
“Stay safe, Hinata,” he said, instead. He forced himself tosound certain. “Work hard.”
Hinata lifted her chin even as tears began to fall evenly,her fingers gripping the hem of his shirt against her thigh. She nodded once,definitively, and Naruto turned away from her.
He did not allow himself to look back. He caught up to the otheryoung people being sent to the front lines of a war they had a hand in starting,and he did not look back.
He looked ahead, and yet all he could see was—
Sunrise. Sunset.
✧
“There has to be another way.”
“I’m trying to tell you,” Nara Shikamaru sighed, pushing ata line of tension along his forehead. His hologram body shimmered in the spaceof Naruto’s war tent, the fizz of static a comforting distraction from the hushof war outside his poorly constructed walls. “This plan has the least amount ofcasualties.”
Naruto gritted his teeth. Not for the first time, herepeated himself.
“Even one casualty is too many.”
Shikamaru’s sigh came even before the sentence fully leftNaruto’s lips. He shook his head, mixed parts exasperated and wearisome.
“You’re so troublesome.It’s a wonder you’ve done so well there, truly,” Shikamaru lamented, “With amindset more naïve than a Genin.”
Naruto didn’t stiffen at the jab, didn’t back down. Hepushed harder, no punches held.
“It’s this naïve mindset that we’re fighting for, day in andday out. Even one life is too great a loss for us to be okay with, Shikamaru.”
His head consultant’s face pinched in just the way that it didwhen his mother scolded him. Naruto didn’t take the time to draw the line frompoint A to point B and realize he’d just mentally compared himself to Shikamaru’smother.
“Fine,” Shikamaru groused, “Say we go along with your plan.What are we going to do about the civilians? You can’t just burst through thefront door with Rasen-Shuriken in hand, Naruto. You’d level their village.”
“Nah,” Naruto agreed, “No bursting in, no Rasen-Shuriken.Just me, a couple hundred more of me, one of my generals, and her battalion.”
“Just walking right in the front door.”
“Yes.”
“Where everyone in the village, civilian, spy, and stationedbattalion can see you coming. From at least a mile away.”
“This way,” Naruto hedged, “It’s fair. They’ll come to fightus before we reach the village gates. When we get there, we can offer aid tothe civilians there, if they need it. If they want it.”
Naruto’s expression darkened, became storm clouds roilingover an open plain, freckled and jaded with scars.
“We will not do what was done to Rain country.” His voicewas an unsheathed sword, the first glimmer of steel out of the scabbard, anunabashed warning. His posture was a reckoning. He met Shikamaru’s hologrameyes without blinking, jaw tight, and said, “If the people of this country don’twant us here and don’t want our aid or supplies, we will leave. We will notforce them. We might be helping, but they have the power here. I won’t standfor anyone trying to take that from them.”
“Sheesh,” Shikamaru sighed, shifting his weight. Somewherebehind him Naruto heard the distinct sound of pages turning, the rustling of manyactively doing research. “I know that. We’re on the same page, Naruto. All ofus are. It was these people who wroteto us for aid, so that they wouldn’t be wiped off the map, remember?”
The weight of Naruto’s heavy shoulders lightened, allowedhim to bow where before he had stood sharp and tall. “Yeah,” he laughed, withsome humor to it. “Yeah I remember. Just wanted to make sure.”
Shikamaru’s eyes softened, sympathetic. “I know thissituation reminds you of—ah, hell.”
Shikamaru scuffed his foot on the floor, threading his handstogether behind his head in a gesture that was somehow an expression of comfortand discomfort both. He wasn’t fond of this, intimate discussions outside ofduty and strategy, and this was more troublesome than most. Still, because hecould see the way Naruto swayed, could see twin groaning shadows under his eyes,the way that war had move through him with barbed edges, catching and stealing,he persisted. “She would be proud of the way you’re handling this. This villageis only slightly smaller than Whirlpool had been, after all.”
Naruto was silent for a long time, his eyes heavy. Hisfingers twisted unconsciously into the fabric of his pants, right at histhighs. “Yeah,” he finally said, lower than usual. He thought of a frame,cracked and dusty, squared away inside of four walls under the sun he calledhome. A family. A woman. Red hair, his eyes. “I guess this place feels a bitmore personal. Because of that.”
He hadn’t even really realized it until Shikamaru said itoutright—too focused on strategy and keeping his friends and those innocentpeople caught between the fight alive. But Shikamaru had a mind that saweverything, everything, and this,too, factored into his planning. Naruto might never have put the piecestogether so precisely, and realized that this little village under siege remindedhim of Whirlpool.
Of his mother, and the little that he did know about her.
Shikamaru allowed him a moment of consideration, a rarepensive mood for their young Commander. He cleared his throat, and Naruto’sgaze caught his once more. His body wrapped itself back into cords of strength,armor of muscle and bone and human will.
“Your plan will work,” Shikamaru admitted slowly, bringingthem back to the issue at hand. “You just thought about keeping the civilianssafe and furthest from the actual fighting, but I know the way our enemythinks. They’re arrogant enough to meet us there. They will meet us there. The only question is if you have enough forcesto meet them.”
“We sure do,” Naruto said, tone lilting slightly, justenough to catch Shikamaru’s attention and hold it. Naruto’s smile was a tiredthing, but humor still had the power to lift it. “I have a surprise for them.”
“More surprising than three hundred of you?”
Naruto laughed lowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah,that trick’s old hand, by now.”
At that, Shikamaru seemed to somehow grow even more disgruntledthan before. Naruto grinned, though.
“I have Rock Lee.”
Shikamaru’s eyes brightened, his lips quirkingquestioningly, as if asking for more information without ever having to saythe words.
Naruto explained it all.
✧
Even as a young boy, Naruto had known he’d rise through theranks. He’d planned on it. No onebecame the Hokage by being complacent in their position in life. They jumped atchallenges, they changed the world.
He just never expected to have to rise so quickly. He didn’t have a mind forcomplex strategy, but he had a will of pure, living fire that managed to burnits way through impossible odds and straight to victory. His unit triumphedunder his bravery and encouragement, and when his battalion’s decade-longgeneral fell, it was Naruto they appointed in his place.
They tried to rise him up; offered him new dwellings, betteraccommodations, more rations. Naruto insisted his tent remain with the warparty, no larger or more lavish than any other. He got used to receiving reportfrom people older than himself, and tried his best to utilize those around himso as to prevent as many losses as possible. Victory was always there in hismind, but it was protectiveness that stole the forefront. These were his people. Good people. He would not failthem.
But damned if it wasn’t exhausting.
“Sir?”
Naruto stirred, refocusing on the shinobi before him. He wasyounger even than Naruto, with a new scar forming through his chin, bright andangry. His report had been perfectly organized, more so than Naruto could everdream to replicate. Naruto’s eyes dropped to the boy’s hands, saw the tremorsin his fingers. Exhaustion, not fear.
“Sorry,” Naruto laughed, a forced effort. He rubbedpassively at his nape, his fingernails still caked with dirt, dried skin.Blood. “Thanks for the info. I’ll try to put it to good use, believe it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” the young man offered. He soundedreassuring, as though he thought Naruto had thought he’d been looking down onNaruto for not paying attention earlier. Tension pooled in Naruto’s temples. Hewas overthinking things. He tried to offer up a smile, knew it looked forced,but the young man returned one as true as rain anyways. It stretched the skinof his chin, accentuated the budding scar there.
“Hey, don’t forget we have a medic’s tent,” Naruto remindedhim, softening his tone so it didn’t sound like an order. His smile was alittle more heartfelt when it lifted and he added, “You should stop by and askHinata to check on you. It’s important to keep yourself healthy out here, seriously,and even if you wanna keep the scar, you might wanna let her give you a fullcheck-up. Nothing wrong with making sure you’re healthy before you head out withlives depending on you.”
The young man hesitated, eyes searching Naruto’s. Something Narutosaid made his shoulders bow, and the soft curl of the young man’s lips was fullof pity. He said, “Sir,” ever politely, “Did you mean Hana? Our chief medic?”
Naruto blinked at the boy. His mind was already racing overnew plans and orders again and the tension in his temples had turned into afull-blown looming migraine. He couldn’t remember what he’d had to eat letalone if he’d said something that didn’t make sense.
The boy’s smile grew in shades, growing less in pity andmore of amusement, as though he was in on some joke Naruto didn’t understand orwas just too tired to get.
The young man saved him the effort of asking him what thehell was going on by nodding his head with a single bubble of muted laughter. “Yes,yes,” he said, “I’ll go see the medic. And sir, not to step out of line, butyou should try to get some sleep.”
Naruto smiled, eyes growing heavy. “Will do,” he agreed,though sleep seemed so far away he wasn’t even sure if he could properly spellit at the moment. The young man bobbed his head and made his way, presumablyoff to the medic tent as Naruto had encouraged. Naruto watched him go withcuriosity still pooling within him, wondering at his blunder. The young man liftedthe flap of Naruto’s tent and the morning light caught his hair, turned it toflame.
Auburn. Orange.
Naruto took one last look at the map laid out in front ofhim and pushed away from the table, over to his makeshift futon. He collapsedon top of it with a gust of a sigh, praying for a moment of peace, of respite.He sat up straight a moment later when he heard a far off crash, and then theecho of someone apologizing. He relaxed minutely, shaking his head and reachingup to rub at his temples. He let his head fall, dangling between his forearms,fingers pushing through his hair. It was longer now. He closed his eyes andimagined smaller fingers pushing through the strands, gently massaging hisscalp.
His eyes opened heavily, the ache within him growing. Hereached under his futon and pulled the envelope he kept solely for her into hislap. He thumbed through several letters, re-reading and re-reading letters he’dre-read countless times before, her cute looping scrawl, his jagged scratchesbeneath.
He flipped through pictures she’d sent, of herself in theirhome, their bed, his shirt. Theirs, too, he thought with amusement.
The most recent correspondence with Hinata had not come fromHinata herself, but Iruka. It was a photograph of Hinata, candid and real,blurred in one edge. Her hair was up and pulled back, her eyebrows pinched asshe gently introduced healing chakra into an injured child’s system. The greenlight of it reflected off of her skin, caught mistily in her eyes. Her clotheswere ragged, her hair messy. He knew without Iruka’s letter of explanation thatHinata was working tirelessly at a village hospital near Konoha, where refugeeswere funneled to be treated. Her time would be split, if the war continued on.She was too valuable a healer to send to the front lines when so many refugeesrequired aid so close to home.
The front lines were already covered well enough, though,with Sakura there.
Should the war continue, Hinata would undeniably be sent tothe front lines somewhere. This was not conjecture; she had been briefed beforehe’d left, and explained it to him simply. She would go to war, too. Just notwith him.
Naruto touched the still image of her face, poised inconcentration. The edges of the photo were already worn from touch, fromoveruse. He found comfort in knowing she was working hard near home, that shewas safe. Those had been his only demands of her. Stay safe. Work hard. Shewas keeping her promises.
And he loved her.
He loved her and he’d made her a promise, too.
And he intended on keeping it.
(Sunrise. Sunset.)
