"I should go and see her; she should be awake now," he thought as he stood up and left the tea shop.
Returning to the Hyuga compound, he walked toward Hinata's room, wondering what she might think about the incident—the kiss. At that moment, he had an opportunity to do more, but he reminded himself that he was a gentleman.
Shoi paused in the doorway of Hinata's room, taking in the sight of her sitting on the edge of her bed, her head slightly bowed.
The memory of what had transpired—the kiss, the chakra transfer—lingered in his mind. It wasn't a course of action he had planned, yet it had been necessary to save her from the poison's effects.
He stepped into the room, clearing his throat. "Hinata?"
Her head lifted, and her soft lavender eyes met his. For a fleeting moment, he caught a glimmer of recognition in her gaze, but it quickly faded as she composed herself.
"Shoi," she greeted him, her voice calm and gentle, though there was a hint of something reserved in her demeanor. She smiled faintly, but it felt guarded.
"I came to check on you," Shoi said, closing the distance between them. "Are you feeling better?"
Hinata nodded, her expression steady. "Yes, much better," she replied, placing her hands in her lap, fingers gently folding together. "Thank you for helping me."
Shoi paused, unsure if he should bring up what had happened.
He didn't expect her to act this way—so calm, so… unaffected. Had she forgotten about the kiss? The chakra transfer? He had felt her trembling as his chakra flowed into her, trying to stabilize her, and he distinctly remembered her faint smile before everything returned to normal.
His brow furrowed slightly. "You don't… remember what happened after the poison hit, do you?"
Hinata blinked, her expression unchanged. "Not really," she said, shaking her head. "Everything felt... blurry. I only remember bits and pieces, but nothing clear."
Shoi's stomach twisted. Was she pretending not to remember? Or had the poison really clouded her mind that much? He thought about explaining the situation but decided against it.
If she didn't remember, there was no point in making things uncomfortable.
"Well," he began, keeping his tone casual, "when you were affected by the poison, I had to transfer some of my chakra into you to purge it from your system."
"I see," she said, nodding slowly. "I'm sorry for causing trouble…"
"Trouble?" Shoi chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You weren't any trouble, Hinata. I'm just glad it worked."
Shoi studied her for a moment. She really wasn't going to acknowledge it—whether it was out of politeness or genuine memory loss, he couldn't tell.
But he didn't push any further. If she wanted to leave it unspoken, then that's how it would be.
"Take it easy for now," Shoi said, stepping back toward the door. "If you need anything, just let me know."
Hinata nodded, her smile lingering as she watched him go.
Shoi paused at the doorway, feeling a tug in his chest as he glanced back at Hinata. She was always so composed, so gentle—yet beneath that quiet strength, he knew there were layers of emotion she kept hidden.
He had seen it in the way she looked at Naruto, the way her hands fidgeted when she was nervous, and the way her gaze softened when she thought no one was watching.
But now, there was something different in her. That guardedness—it wasn't just about what had happened with the poison or the kiss.
It was deeper, rooted in years of doubt, fear, and the weight of expectations placed on her as the Hyuga heiress.
Shoi knew if he wanted her to see him differently, to open her heart to him, he had to reach beyond that wall she had built around herself.
He couldn't just be another fleeting presence in her life. He had to make her feel like she was the only one that mattered.
He turned back, his voice soft but carrying an undertone of sincerity. "Hinata, can I ask you something?"
She looked up, curious. "Of course."
Shoi leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as if he were contemplating something important. "Why do you always apologize?"
Hinata blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. "I... I don't know," she murmured, her fingers brushing against the edge of her sleeve. "I guess I don't want to be a burden to anyone."
"You're not a burden," Shoi said firmly, stepping closer again. "Not to me, not to anyone. And if anyone has made you feel that way, they don't see how incredible you are."
Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she lowered her gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. "I just… I don't want to cause trouble."
A/N: cringey, but it's necessary.
Shoi knelt in front of her, gently lifting her chin so their eyes met. "You're allowed to take up space, Hinata.
You don't have to apologize for existing. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, and anyone who makes you doubt that doesn't deserve your time."
Hinata's breath caught in her throat as his words sank in. No one had ever spoken to her like this—so directly, without trying to protect or shelter her. It wasn't just about being kind or reassuring; it felt like Shoi saw her, the parts of her she didn't show to anyone else.
"You don't have to hide how you feel," Shoi added softly. "Not with me."
For a long moment, they simply looked at each other. Shoi could see the conflict in her eyes—years of insecurity warring with the desire to believe in herself, to trust someone who wasn't Naruto.
He had to be patient, to let her come to terms with her emotions in her own time. But for now, he wanted her to know that no matter what happened, he wasn't going anywhere.
He stood up, offering her a gentle smile. "Get some rest. I'll be around if you need me."
Hinata's lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but the words didn't come. Instead, she nodded, her eyes following him as he left the room.
Even as he disappeared from view, her mind replayed his words over and over again.
For the first time in a long while, Hinata felt something stirring inside her—something she wasn't quite ready to name. But it was there, and it wouldn't be so easily dismissed.
As Shoi walked away from the Hyuga compound, a satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He knew the seed had been planted. Now, he just had to give it time to grow.