Ice And The Prize

Hinata sat upright on the couch, stretching her arms. She winced as she bent to her right and clutched her lower rib. As soon as she saw Crow approaching from the side, she straightened up, gritting her teeth to hide the pain.

Crow stepped in, a towel draped over his shoulders, and handed over a glass of water. Amusement lingered in his expression, his mind still trying to catch up to the whirlwind that had just happened.

"Hey," he said gently as he crouched beside her, offering the glass, "You okay?"

Hinata exhaled through her nose, lowering her arms with a subtle roll of her shoulder and a muted pop. "Yeah," she muttered, "Just got clipped. Not deep."

Before she could finish, Crow was already wiping her face with the towel, like this was something he would do to anyone in a heartbeat.

Hinata blinked at the sudden closeness. Her jaw tightened, and there was a flicker in her eyes, a faint pout that tugged at the edges of her lips.

“I can do this myself,” she thought with a mix of irritation and reluctance. Just a second in a boxing match. Nothing else.

Yet, she just sat there, closing her eyes, letting him fuss over her like a cat too tired to lick herself clean. Her fingers tightened around the glass of water, a subtle protest, but she didn’t pull away.

As soon as Crow was done, she gulped down her glass.

“She doesn’t hit like she used to.”

Crow raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Could’ve fooled me. You two were like two meteors clashing.”

Hinata’s lips curled faintly, her fingers lightly grazing the edge of the glass.

“She's still sharp. I can't disrespect that.”

Crow huffed and stood, disappearing into the kitchen. The freezer door creaked open, followed by the rustle of plastic. Moments later, he returned with an ice pack.

Hinata blinked at him.

To her shock, Crow went straight for the hem of her hoodie, lifted it, and bared her mid. Her face heated up, as if it could be measured in Scoville units.

“He… HEY!”

Too late. Her side had been exposed, revealing the bruise blooming just beneath her ribs. The deep purple mark pulsed against her skin.

Crow pressed the ice pack gently against her side.

Hinata flinched—not from pain, but from surprise. Her eyes widened for a beat. Then her shoulders relaxed, the tension lifting, her breath slowing.

“You’re too nice today. It’s scary,” she murmured, half in jest.

Crow glanced at her from the side, a chuckle escaping. “You made a good sandwich.”

Hinata stared ahead for a moment, then reached over and flicked his forehead with a dry, playful thunk.

“Stop imagining things.”

He rubbed his forehead, mock-offended but amused at her rare physical interaction. “Right back at you. You’re too nice today. It’s scary.”

Hinata clicked her tongue.

Silence settled between them again. This time in a comfortable, quiet surrender.

— • —

Crow leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee. His hair was half-tied, and his T-shirt remained crumpled.

Hinata sat at the edge of the couch, arms resting on her knees, quietly munching a piece of toast. Her blanket was draped loosely around her shoulders like a cape, and her eyes were fixed on the muted TV.

He took a sip and spoke. “Hey, so… What do you think?”

Hinata didn’t look up. “That’s dangerous.”

Crow snorted, not denying it. “Right, yeah. But hear me out. Might be a good time to get you one.”

That got a blink. She turned her head toward him, chewing slowly. “…Why?”

“Safety, convenience, memes.” He shrugged. “Also, after that liver shot, I feel like you earned it.”

She gave him a flat stare. “I’m good. I don’t need one.”

Crow raised an eyebrow. “If you vanished into the woods again, I’d have no way to find you. You’d be a ghost.”

Hinata didn’t look at him. “Then use a pigeon or something. More reliable.”

He pointed at her with his cup. “See, this is exactly why you need it. You know, SOS? ‘Hey, I ate too much ramen. Come up and rescue me.’ Pigeons can’t lift people.”

She folded her arms. “As that thing can't, so no.”

“You could learn.”

“I don’t want to.”

Crow grinned, stepping further into the room. “Oh, old lady is scared of technology?”

Hinata’s tongue clicked, biting at the last toast. “I’m not afraid of anything. Except when you're too close. Too dangerous.”

“Oof. What a downgrade.” He set the cup down and leaned on the back of the couch.

Hinata stared at him.

“You can even name it. ‘Operation Stay Low, Send Memes.’ Think about it.”

“What are we getting, a robot dog?”

“Alright, smart-ass.”

She exhaled, reaching for the remote, and flipped the channel. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are—on my couch, in my hoodie, eating my toast.”

“…Tactical relocation.”

Crow grinned. “I’m just saying. Think about it.”

Hinata didn’t respond. But her gaze lingered on the now-muted weather report, and she didn’t change the channel again.