Chapter Nine: Stains That Don’t Fade

The Uchiha compound lay cloaked in frost and silence. Snowdrifts hugged the walls, and a half-burnt torch flickered weakly in the entry hall. Sasuke stood at the large wooden doors, cleaning his training kunai, every motion methodical—an attempt to still the roiling thoughts that had followed him across the village.

A discrete knock echoed through the hall. Sasuke sheathed his kunai and crossed the room to answer. He found Hinata Hyuga at the threshold, her posture formal, face pale against the crimson of her winter cloak. In her arms, she cradled a small bundle wrapped in cloth—her clan's carefully prepared herbs and warm broth.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said softly.

"He's resting," Sasuke replied, stepping aside. "Come in."

Warm air carried the scent of simmered dashi and damp earth. Inside, Naruto lay on a sturdy couch, bundled in blankets. His chest rose and fell in shallow rhythm, as fragile as winter ice. His hair, damp and unkempt, spilled over the pillow in tangled waves. Bruises bloomed in purples and yellows across his face and arms, testament to weeks of unchecked cruelty.

Hinata approached slowly, her eyes dampening with a mixture of relief and shame. She knelt beside the couch and gently placed the broth and herbs on the low table.

"He looks worse than I imagined," she whispered.

Sasuke stood behind her, silent sentinel. "He nearly died. I carried him from the academy courtyard myself. He slipped into unconsciousness right in front of everyone, and no one dared to move."

Hinata's lips trembled. "I... I wasn't there. I only heard rumors."

"What rumors?" Sasuke demanded.

She swallowed, gathering courage. "That he was born before he should have been—too weak to live. That his mother died during childbirth. Some even said... he shouldn't have survived."

Sasuke's jaw tightened. "I've heard more. That people thought he was a girl pretense, that his soft voice and long hair proved it."

Hinata nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. "He never corrects them. He's always silent, so they assume he doesn't mind."

They both looked at Naruto, so still and fragile.

Hinata reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Naruto's forehead. "I should have spoken up. I saw the way Neji and Kiba treated him... and I said nothing."

Sasuke's posture shifted, anger flaring in his dark eyes. "And why not?"

She glanced away. "My clan watches me. If I defended him, I would have been punished. Exiled."

Sasuke laughed, bitter and low. "You think that's worse than what they did to him?"

Hinata's voice cracked. "I thought... if I didn't add to his shame, it would be enough."

"Silence isn't kindness," Sasuke shot back. "It's consent."

Hinata recoiled as if struck. "That's... not what I meant."

"Doesn't matter." Sasuke's tone softened just enough to cut through her defenses. "Words or no words, he bled alone. He collapsed alone."

Hinata bowed her head, guilt sharpening with each heartbeat. "I know..."

Naruto stirred, a faint groan escaping his lips. Hinata jumped to her feet, Sasuke immediately at her side.

"We shouldn't wake him," Hinata said.

"Not yet," Sasuke agreed. He gestured to the back exit. "Come outside."

Snow crunched beneath their boots as they stepped into the backyard. The old training poles stood like silent sentinels, their wood frosted white.

They faced each other, neither lowering their gaze. Sasuke drew his kunai; Hinata tightened the cords on her wrist guards.

Without warning, Sasuke lunged, blade arcing toward her shoulder. Hinata sidestepped, planting a foot firmly in the snow to block his momentum. She sent a quick palm strike at his chest—no chakra, just raw force—forcing him to pause.

Sasuke recovered, spinning low and sweeping for her ankles. She leapt over the arc of his blade, countering with a low kick that connected with his shin. Sasuke winced but stayed upright.

"You watched him collapse and did nothing!" Sasuke growled, advancing with a flurry of precise, controlled strikes aimed at testing her guard.

Hinata parried each blow, her stance steady though her breath came fast. She managed a side kick that struck Sasuke's hip, pushing him back two steps.

He shook off the impact and closed the gap, swinging a horizontal slash that grazed her sleeve. She blocked with both forearms, the fabric tearing, and responded with an elbow strike to his ribs.

Sasuke staggered, then pressed forward, his kunai blade tracing arcs in the air. Hinata blocked the first few with raised arms. A blade nicked her collarbone, drawing a thin line of blood.

She didn't cry out.

Instead, she struck back. Both fists crackled as she released stored chakra in rapid punches aimed at disabling his stance. Sasuke jumped back, eyes wide at the display of power.

"Afraid of your own strength?" she challenged, voice taut.

He smiled grimly. "I'm afraid you'll use it against me." He feigned left, then delivered a swift palm to her stomach that knocked the wind out of her.

Hinata doubled over, coughing. Sasuke whirled around and swept her legs again. She hit the snow, rolled, then sprang to her feet, cloak swirling around her. Her hair, braided tight, whipped across her face.

"I won't stand by any longer!" she shouted, launching a straight fist that collided with Sasuke's chin.

He reeled, head spinning. Hinata seized the moment to advance, her boots sinking in the snow with each step. She landed a series of strikes—fist to shoulder, elbow to jaw, palm to chest—each one precise, each one fueled by the promise in her eyes.

Sasuke blocked the last with crossed kunai, but the force drove him to one knee. He looked up at her, surprised and breathing hard.

Hinata lowered her fists, chest heaving. "I'm done hiding."

Sasuke stood slowly, sheathing his kunai. His cloak fell into place as he approached her.

"Then stand with him. No more silence." He offered her a hand.

Hinata accepted it without hesitation.

They stood side by side in the drifting snow, two warriors bound by shared conviction, the echoes of their spar fading into the wintry dusk. The spar was over, but the promise forged in its heat remained unbroken." he hissed. "Stand with him, not apart!"

Hinata struggled, then froze. She saw pain in his eyes—not in his words. A raw, jagged sort of care.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she whispered, "I will."

Sasuke released her. They stood, breathless, the tension dissolving into the cold air.

"Next time you see him hurt," Sasuke said quietly, "don't look away."

She nodded, voice trembling with relief and regret. "I won't."

They walked back inside, scraping snow from their boots. Naruto remained unmoved, curled into a fragile shape on the couch. Hinata draped her arms around his shoulders and adjusted the blankets.

Sasuke lingered at the edge of the room, watching them. His voice was soft, almost tender.

"He might not remember any of this. But we will."

Hinata glanced at him. "For once, he doesn't have to face it alone."

Sasuke nodded.

In the hush of the Uchiha home, two people made a promise stronger than any words. And Naruto, at last, could let the quiet settle around him.

In the flicker of the hearth's dying embers, the stains on the floor—the cruel marks of neglect and fear—remained. But tonight, they were not forgotten.

And that, somehow, was enough.