#hianta

When a cold demeanor meets a hot wife

tsukishima: i’m calling sugawara

Angst-ish story so be aware. I didn’t really know what to do with his prompt if i’m being honest. but i hope you enjoy either way. Love Dia ~

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One cry, one touch, only once that is all that I ever got. Some would say that one time is more than enough, but those people don’t know what they’re talking about. I'm craving more. I would give almost everything just for 5 minutes, for a conversation, to talk to her, to see what she thinks of me, of what I've become. I just want a hug, to feel her body close to mine to for her to run her hands down my spine and into my hair. I just want to look into her eyes and see the unconditional love that I know would be there. I don’t feel like I'm asking for that much. Just another moment.

I'm tired of everyone telling me how amazing is was, hoe beautiful or how proud she would be. I'm tired of looking at pictures and seeing just how much of her lives on in me. I'm tired of her appearing in my dreams and not hearing her voice because I have no idea what it sounded like. I'm tired of someone talking to me about her like we’re talking about the weather. I hate how dad gets sometimes when someone brings up a bad memory of her, or when one of those elder people come to us and pity us. I also feel bad for asking for more than I have. Dad is more than anyone would ever need, he’s love for me is infinite, he has always given me everything I needed and more, there is nothing in this world that he wouldn’t do for me, and yet I crave more. I want mom to be alive, both for me and for him.  

Dad is the only one I like to listen to when he talks about mom, about how they met in school, about how he was hell-bend of going though university with no ties to any of his collage and in his second year she walked into his life and knocked him down without even meaning to. Whenever he talks about that he gets this peaceful look in his eyes and his posture changes to a more relaxed one. I wish he could live in those memories forever.  

I love the story of how their first date, how because of a misunderstanding mom was expecting dad’s best friend to pick her up and go on a date with but dad showed up and swept her off her feet. I like to think that they had that kind of love-story that people write about, that people see in movies.  

At times I’m jealous of dad because he has spent almost 6 years with mom and he has many fond memories of her that he can live in for a while, yet I have nothing. One touch that was all I got. I didn’t even see her because I was a baby and my eyes were closed, mouth open in a scream-cry. I never knew the story until last year. I knew that she had died giving birth to me, that always made me feel guilty. But after asking again and again, last year dad finally told me everything.  

How they knew there was a possibility that a pregnancy could hurt mom since her mother died giving birth to my aunt, but even so mom was ecstatic when she found out they were expecting. He told me about how she started reading to me and talking to me since before there was a aby-bump to be seen. That she always told me I was loved and hos they could not wait to meet me. He also told me that she went in labor a month early, not something that uncommon but still...How it didn’t really take all that long, that the delivery was pretty smooth, that mom wasn’t in pain but her heartbeat was worryingly low during the 2 hours the birth took. That I came out with a cry and how the doctors, after cleaning me up, put me in her arms and she cried and said I was perfect. How both she and dad were crying while staring at me and holding hands. How the nurse took me away and dad stood behind with mom. How he kissed her cheek and thanked her for the life she gave him, for their marriage, happiness and especially for me. Mom smiled told him how he was the love of her life and that was tired, and she closed her eyes. For about 10 seconds dad was certain she fell asleep until the line on the machine monitoring her heart went steady and doctors started rushing in. She had died barely minutes after meeting me. Dad says she died happy and I believe him, but it doesn’t make her absence any better.  

There is only one picture with all of us, the one the nurse took right after I was born. I am in her arms, both dad and her are looking at me with so much love. The picture made me cry on numerous times. Now it is one of those moments, I look on the back and see written the date “9th November 1990; baby Daisuke was born, bringing me and Hinata unmeasurable happiness. -Sasuke” I'm in the waiting room in the hospital surrounded by people that I love and that love me back. I feel like I can’t breathe and at the same time oddly calm. Dad is beside me; he has been rubbing my back for the past 20 minutes. Since my wife told me to leave the hospital room until she tells me to go back. She's in labor now, moments, maybe hours away from giving birth to my baby girl. Finally, the door opens, and a nurse comes in.  

Some wintery cuteness for @furawaume