Shouyou Hinata was sat on the grass in his front garden, his body hunched forward against the pale sky. His flaming hair was stuck out from his head, having no direction, no order. Just chaos. Chaos and confusion.

You approached him slowly, walking as if too scared to leave behind footprints, knowing how easily they could be erased. "Hey... Hinata? Is it okay if I sit here?"

The boy looked up at you through muddy brown eyes, eyes that had lost their light, their colour. He managed a weak smile, lacklustre, like paint that had been mixed with too much water and now it was just a faint smudge on his face. He nodded.

You sat on the ground next to him, tucking your knees beneath you. The grass was still damp from the morning's unplanned rainfall, tangles of weeds poking through the soil and bedded with dew, but he didn't seem to care, so neither did you. You'd spent much of your childhood in this garden; it was one of those places that acted as a safety net in your head. When you were upset or troubled, your thoughts went back to this garden in search of peace.

There'd been a swing here once. You used to take it in turns to push each other, see how high you could get, to see over the jungle of slated grey rooftops, rooftops that had seemed like mountains to you at the time.

In the summer, you used to have picnics and do cartwheels out on the grass, and in winter you'd go out in your coats and wellies and make snow angels. Then you'd go inside and have hot milk and warm your feet by the fire. When he'd started to get into volleyball, you set up a net on the grass and took it in turns to set the ball to each other. You'd always been the better setter, but he was an incredible jumper and always managed to hit your tosses somehow.

But now it had been over a week since you'd seen him play volleyball. A week since you'd seen him smile properly. A week since you'd even held a proper conversation. Now he just sat and stared, straight ahead, like a broken toy with the pieces in the wrong places and no manual on how to patch him back up. He was broken. Something inside him had cracked.

Even his house had sunk into mourning now. It used to be so full of life and energy, with sunlight pouring through the windows and making smiles glitter and laughter shine. Now it just felt cold, infected with an endless winter, frozen over. It was always dark there now, the curtains always drawn, refusing to let light bleed into the house. It was just dark and cold and gloomy.

"How are you feeling today?" You asked, your voice shallow, shaky. He was so fragile you were scared to break him with your words.

His eyes dropped down to his hands. His fingers were bridged together, interlaced, as if he was holding his own hand. Perhaps he thought he was holding hers. "Okay," he said, his voice lilting. That was his answer every time, that's what he said every time you asked. Okay. I'm feeling okay. And yet nothing about him was okay, nothing about what had happened was okay. You both knew that, but you just didn't know what to do. You were losing your best friend and you didn't know how to get him back again.

"Natsu's in a better place now," you said quietly, keeping your head bowed in respect, "you know that right? She's somewhere that's always bright and happy."

"She might be. But I'm not," he whispered, the first time he'd answered you properly, answered you with emotion. Not that dull, broken voice. "I can hardly even smile anymore. It just hurts. Everything hurts."

He was like a stranger in his own life. Nothing was the same anymore. "Hinata..." your voice ebbed, throat drying up. You didn't know what to say to him. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, orange hair swaying with the movement. "No. Don't apologise. I don't want you to feel responsible for any of this," he said, his voice still a whisper, low and desperate. He reached over and took your hand, an action that once might have made you blush and shy away. But his hands were so cold that you shivered instead. You felt no warmth, no life in his touch. "You've been a blessing, [Y/N]."

You gave his fingers a squeeze. "I'm here for you as much I possibly could be," you told him. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? If you need someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, something to shout at and vent your frustration at, I'll be all of that."

He nodded. Managed a weak smile. Dropped it. "Thank you."

"Let's go for a walk. The first blossoms should be starting to bloom by now," you told him, straining to keep your voice upbeat and happy when the look on his face was so sad.

You missed him already. The old Hinata.

Pulling himself to his feet, he brushed down the legs of his pants and glanced around. The sun had dipped behind a cloud and a soft chill had taken its place. The swing cast a watery shadow on the lawn, the grass now looked pale and dry no longer warmed by the sun. Hinata's orange hair stirred about him, framing his face, those sad eyes. He turned to you and a shiver  stole over you from the deadness of his gaze.

"Okay," he finally said, then started off down the lawn.

The sky was pale as the afternoon drew in, more clouds sidling in from the East and cluttering the sky. You walked hunched against the wind that chilled you through your jacket.

It was nearing three o'clock by the time the two of you had found your first cherry blossom. You'd spent most of the walk in silence, enjoying the sounds of the breeze ruffling the leaves and the hum of tyres on tarmac, feet on asphalt. Hinata watched his feet as he walked, unattuned to the world, as if he had taken to living inside his head instead.

Gravel crunched softly underfoot as you walked through the avenue of blossoming trees, willowy branches studded with clusters of honey-coloured and cherry-pink petals.

"They're pretty, aren't they?" You said, your voice low and soft, treading on fragile grounds. "I always love the blossom season."

Hinata lifted his head, and you saw the sadness experienced by the trees at the end of their life reflected in his smile, as if he had tapped into the pain and sorrows of the universe itself. "Yeah. They're beautiful."

You caged your bottom lip between your teeth, desperate to get something out of him that showed you the old Hinata was still in there somewhere, not this outer facade, this shell, this jigsaw missing its most crucial pieces.

"Remember when we used to play hide and seek around here. I could never climb the trees like you could," you continued, an attempt to distract him, to take the edge off his pain. "You've always been quick and nimble. I'm just... clumsy and awkward."

Hinata's lips quirked, but the movement was stiff, rusty. "I don't think you're awkward or clumsy. You're just... you," he said quietly, dusting salmon-coloured petals out of his hair. "You're just how you've always been. And... and I hope you stay that way. I hope we stay this way."

You frowned, unsure of what he was trying to say. "Of course, Hinata. Nothing's going to change between us. I've already told you, I'm going to be here no matter what."

Hinata stopped, his shoulders stooped forward and his hands folded away in his pocket. You knew he had a photo in there, you'd seen him take it out a few times and press his thumb gently to his sister's face.

The bright cherry blossoms that framed him only seemed accentuate the dark shadows, lacklustre sheen that had occupied his features.

"You'll... you'll never leave me, will you [Y/N]-Chan?" He asked, and you shook your head wildly, [h/c] hair tousling against your cheek.

"Of course not, Hinata. You're my best friend and I have no intention of letting you face this alone."

"You promise?" He whispered, taking out the photo again and fixing his dusky brown eyes on it, now glistening with tears.

"I promise," you said.

"Then I promise too. I promise I'm never going to lose anyone I care about ever again," he vowed, clutching the photograph hard in his hands, almost creasing the edges. "I promise I'll never let anyone hurt you, [Y/N]. I've already lost one person I cherish, and I'm not going to lose you too."

Your heart started fluttering when he looked at you, his eyes hard and determined, a strong, earthy brown. You were touched by his words, but there was something unsettling about them too, about the hard, sinister edge to his voice and the darkness that overshadowed his smile, sapping the warmth from it.

You reached out and ruffled his hair. "You won't lose me, Hinata," you assured him as the wind picked up again, showering petals around you. "I'm not going anywhere."

— ♠ —

"How's Hinata doing?" Your mother asked as you were doing your homework in the kitchen the same evening, still unable to shake Hinata's words from your mind. You set down your pen with a sigh, pushing the textbook away from you.

"Not good. Natsu's death has had such a devastating impact on him. On all of us."

Your mother gave you a wan smile, squeezing your shoulder as she passed. "It really is a tragedy, for one to die so young. It's cruel and... unnatural. She never really got a chance at life."

"He's going back to school tomorrow," you said, standing up from the table with a stretch. "I told him he should take more time off if he's not ready, but I think he just wants the distraction. Staying at home must be hard with all the reminders of her there."

Mum came over and patted your head. "Just look out for him. He's lucky to have such a lovely friend."

You gave her a wobbly smile. "I am trying," you said, fiddling with the peeling wood on the table, "but it's hard. He's just so... so sad all the time. I don't know what to say to him. I don't know how to help him."

She walked over and pulled you into a side hug, your head resting in the crook of her neck. "Just be there for him, that's all he can ask for. Let your friendship do the rest."

A/N — I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! It's a bit different to what I normally write, but I'm always up for a bit of angst and I love horror so this is going to be a pretty fun project! >.<