Hikari watched, unmoving, silent as the night that crept up around them. No sound could be heard save the light rustling of the trees as the breeze blew through them, disturbing their slumber. She felt like an idiot, standing here without saying a word, staring at him. And why? Why was she here? Why was she watching him? Why did any of this matter? Why did he matter? She couldn't care for him. Not because she was incapable of doing so, but because it was too great a risk.<br/><br/>Caring came far too easily for her. It always had. Ever since she was a small child she'd cared more deeply than anyone, even for people she hardly knew. This, however, meant that she hurt more deeply when she lost them, or when others were cold or harsh to her. She was also happy, always smiling. But she was to kind, too caring. She let people in too easily and got herself hurt too many times. When her family was torn away from her it left a hole that nothing else could fill. A void, a darkness, and emptiness that threatened to consume her. It was a battle she fought with herself for a long time.<br/><br/>She had shut everyone out to avoid that pain, that darkness that had threatened to consume her, and the few times she'd let others in, it only ended in more pain. She couldn't lose anyone else. She couldn't risk the pain and she couldn't fall into that darkness again. But more than that, she couldn't see anyone else hurt because of her. It seemed irrational, something she preferred not to indulge in, but regardless, it seemed as though she were cursed. Those who cared for her seemed to end up dead. It was stupid to think such a thing, but she felt as though their blood was on her hands. Her family had died because Orochimaru had come for her and they wouldn't give her up. Her squad had died because she'd wasn't strong enough to protect them. She wouldn't let him become the next casualty in her life.<br/><br/>Still... Was it really that easy? No. It wasn't easy. Even knowing she shouldn't, she knew somewhere inside that it was already too late. The fact that she was standing here now was undeniable proof of that. When she wasn't looking she'd allowed herself, somewhere deep inside, to care again. Why? she couldn't say, really. Maybe it would be different this time? Maybe there was still hope left for the girl who still lived within her, the girl who cared too much, who longed for some happiness, for some form of companionship in this life. Or perhaps it would end in flames and whatever was left of that little girl would die.<br/><br/>She sighed to herself and shook her head, willing the thoughts to disappear as she focused on him. He looked peaceful and almost otherworldly sitting in the moonlight, staring up at the stars. Strange. And yet it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Maybe that was the strange part. Still, she thought he looked peaceful, relaxed, and she thought that was a good look for him.<br/><br/>For some reason it almost felt like time had stopped even as the seconds ticked by. Perhaps it was the serenity of it all. Or perhaps it was because she had forgotten everything else for a moment. After what seemed like an eternity, Kuro slid off of the rock and turned her way before he stopped, frozen, seeming to only just now notice her presence.<br/><br/>Except for her hair, which was lightly tossed around her face by the breeze, shimmering lightly in the moonlight, she, too, stood motionless as she had all this time. He brushed his bangs back into place, covering the small horns on his head, and she swore he was blushing. A hint of a smile tugged lightly at the corner of her lips before she regained control of herself as he walked, or rather sort of shuffled towards her, until he reached the edge of the field where she stood before he stopped, facing the other direction.<br/><br/>"Okay." she responded, her voice ever so soft as she gave a small nod. She felt her heart quicken ever so slightly, but hid the reaction as she handed him his things and swallowed hard before she slipped her cloak on and placed her swords back in their place. She didn't think she could sleep now is she tried, so she supposed that heading back would make the most sense. There was no point in staying here now.<br/><br/>She glanced his way when he glanced her way, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before she looked down toward the ground and started moving forward.<span style="font-style: italic">What is wrong with me?</span>she wondered as they moved forward, but let the thought die when they took to the trees. Their pace was neither rushed nor slow, not fast enough to erase her thoughts, but fast enough that she could feel the wind on her face as she jumped from branch to branch, allowing it to ease the tension and confusion she felt, if only a little.<br/><br/>She noticed that he was still blushing slightly, but she didn't bother to ask. In fact, she didn't say a word. She wouldn't ask about what she had seen, what he had been doing, what he might have been thinking about. She thought she understood, at least a little bit. At any rate, she didn't think he'd be terribly fond of her asking about it. And anyways, she was too lost in her own thoughts to pay much attention to him. Or anything, for that matter. She nearly lost her footing when she landed on a branch because she was too lost in her own mind. She cursed herself for being so clumsy. That had never happened. Even as a genin she'd never been that careless or clumsy. She hoped he hadn't noticed, as she was behind rather than in front of him.<span style="font-style: italic">I'd better pay attention or else I might not recover like that next time.</span>she sighed to herself and tried to clear her mind of all the thoughts that cluttered it. Why was she letting this get to her so much, anyways?<br/><br/>"Hey, Kuro?" she spoke up, deciding that she was tired of listening to herself think. "Is that what you really want?" she wondered aloud before clarifying, "For us to go our separate ways? To never see each other again?" Her voice was soft, timid, and unsure, in stark contrast with her usual confident nonchalance. She dared not look at him, afraid to see his reaction, or perhaps afraid that he would see the confusion in her eyes, or the disappointment that would surely color her features if he truly did want them to go their separate ways and never see one another again.