1

Bitter Coffee and a Large Chance of Horrible

Have you even fallen ten stories after being jumped on by an elephant, and then immediately afterwards had a house dropped on you?

That's what a hangover feels like.

I moaned. Damn Anko. Why did she have to invite me to go on a drinking binge with her? Okay, so maybe I had wanted to see if she would get wasted. And maybe I had wanted to see if, while she was utterly smashed, I would have gotten lucky. Too bad I hadn't factored in Anko's die-hard personality. It just makes sense that she would be a heavy drinker… but of course, I hadn't thought of that. That girl can really hold her liquor.

I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair as I looked around my empty room. The slight pressure of my fingertips on my skull only made my pounding headache even worse. It seemed that the only person who got completely hammered was… me.

Somehow, I managed to roll out of bed and not injure myself more. The first thing I did every morning, without exception, was to put on my mask. The feel of the cool satin slipping over my skin and the soft rustle it made as I pulled it into place never ceased to relax me. And on days when every other part of my body was in massive pain, it was a welcome, if short, relief. What can I say? Old habits die hard. My mask, I was sure, would come with me to the grave.

I opened the shutters as I made my way to the kitchen, only to close them again as the glaring summer sun intensified my headache. For goodness' sake, it was only nine in the morning and the sun was already like this? I winced. Whoever invented alcohol was a great genius, but couldn't he have been a little bit more considerate to the consumers and made it come without the horrible side effects? I made a note on my mental list of things to do when I have free time to invent an alcohol that is hangover free. That entry went right underneath the one that reminded me to keep working on a way to find world peace so that I would actually have free time. Yeah, the life of a ninja is hard. At least I keep myself entertained.

So far, the only way I knew how to get rid of a massive hangover like this one was to make the blackest coffee possible and get close to ODing on Tylenol. Caffeine and pharmaceutical drugs: a match made in heaven.

Just as I finished pouring myself a cup of coffee and had sat down to enjoy it, there was a knock at my door. A ninja's life didn't really follow any set rules, but I believed that there was one that would always prevail. Ninjas followed Murphy's Law: whenever you can least afford an assignment, one would always pop up. No exceptions.

I sighed. I really didn't feel like talking to anyone. Oh well. What could I do? If it was one of my superiors and I didn't open the door, I'd be grilled. For at least a decade. Maybe more.

"Coming," I called out, and then regretted it. Although my voice was at a normal volume, my head was extremely sensitive. I cursed Anko silently and popped three or four pills into my mouth and washed them down with a swig of coffee. My face involuntarily screwed up as the coffee made its way down. Ugh. It was extremely bitter—it tasted like jet fuel. Gross. At least it kind of helped. Hopefully, the drugs would kick in soon. Maybe they would make me a little bit more sociable.

I made my way to the door, and on a thought, glanced down at my clothes—or, more aptly, my lack thereof. Hopefully the person at my door would be someone I was on good terms with, since all I was wearing was a pair of pajama pants that rode low on my hips. I wasn't wearing a shirt because, frankly, those things are overrated.

I wasn't prepared for what awaited me when I opened my door. The first thing to greet me was a small hand, flying towards my face. Thankfully I had enough time to duck, but I could still feel the slight rush of air that the hand displaced as it ruffled my hair. Thank goodness for my reflexes.

I straightened up and was disgruntled when I found that the hand was attached to an arm, and the arm was attached to a body, and attached to that body was the head of my superior, Godaime Tsunade. Ah, yes. This day could get worse.

"Lady Tsunade, what a nice surprise," I said in greeting. My voice was rough from a combination of sleepiness and being hung over. I had only been awake for about… five minutes. Of course, leave it to the lady Hokage to barge in on me so early in the day. "You're here quite early."

"Kakashi, you fool! Don't you know it's rude to keep a lady waiting?" Tsunade's face was in its usual scowl as she pushed past me inside, completely ignoring the fact that I hadn't really invited her in yet. I chuckled and closed the door behind her. Yeah, we were good friends. Unfortunately, we were such good friends that we were had the right to rat on each other as often as we wanted. Of course, Tsunade was the only one that actually exercised this right. As for me, I took pride in exasperating her with my nonchalant attitude.

Tsunade sat down gracefully in one of my chairs. Any other woman with her build coming into my apartment and sitting down in one of my chairs would be incredibly sexy. Too bad she was just intimidating. I wouldn't make a move on the Hokage for all the money in the world—because it'd take more that that to pay for my medical bills.

I put away the bottle of Tylenol and switched off my coffee maker. I try to do my part to help the environment. When I turned, Tsunade was scrutinizing my outfit. "Put some clothes on, you fool," she snapped. "I can't talk to you when you look like that." I grinned mischievously, but complied. I didn't want another near-slap to the face. As I pulled a random shirt out of my drawer and pulled it on, I asked her, "So, why did you barge into my house at this hour, other than for a friendly social visit?" I turned around to face her, my hands on my hips.

In response, Tsunade threw a bottle at my face. I quickly reached up and caught it to avoid more injury to my sensitive head. "Ouch," I said as I came to sit next to her, "somebody's feeling catty today." I studied the bottle as I said this—it was shaped from a dark brown piece of glass, making the contents inside look very unappealing.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "Actually, Anko mentioned to me this morning that you two went drinking last night." She chuckled tersely. "I thought you might have a pretty bad hangover. Coffee and multiple anti-inflammatory pills won't do the job."

"Oh." I took a swig of the medication and gagged. It tasted like horse pee mixed with bitter breadfruit and a dash of honey, which gave it a sickly sweet aftertaste. "Ugh. What IS this stuff?" Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, it began to clear up the fog that was surrounding my head. I took another stomach-churning swig.

When I looked up at Tsunade, her face had darkened, and her features were brooding. This wasn't the usual Tsunade. Normally, she'd be chastising me about the state of my apartment—messy, with clothes strewn haphazardly along both the floor and the counters—or getting straight to business about the next mission that she expected me to do. It wasn't like her to not reply to a question; it definitely was not like her to be sullen, unless it was a very serious situation.

Immediately, my light mood disappeared. I found myself leaning forward, the muscles in my body tensing in response. To an outsider, it would seem trivial, to get so worked up at the difference in Tsunade. But outsiders didn't know the connection that we had… that we still have. Although we were years apart, we were familiar enough that we knew when something was wrong with the other. Working with each other all these years probably contributed to our connection.

"What's wrong?" My voice was rough from stress. When she didn't answer, I was even more worried. "Tsunade…" She looked up at me when I said her name, her eyes tight. She leaned in closer to me, as if she didn't want her voice to carry far. Not that it would—my apartment was eavesdropper-proof. I made sure of it myself.

"Listen, Kakashi. You're a good friend of mine, and I'll always trust you." Normally, hearing her say such sentimental things would send us both into puking fits. But this was different. Her voice was laced with worry, and her brows had pulled down over her eyes. She licked her lips before continuing, as they were dry. "This is why I came to you first… before anyone else could." I blanched. What did she mean? Was she in trouble?

"Kakashi." Her voice took on a more serious tone, and her eyes flicked back and forth minutely, as if reading off a paper. I knew that she was doing exactly that—except that the paper that she was quoting was memorized. She was such an overachiever. "The Council of Elders has found evidence that you are acting as a spy for an outside village. Although you are a trusted member of Konoha, the evidence is incriminating." Her eyes locked on mine as she watched this news ravage my features. So the person in trouble wasn't her—it was me. I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off. "Kakashi, I trust that this is all a misunderstanding. However, the Council does not side with me, because we cannot prove that the evidence that we found was… planted." Her voice sounded strange as she stumbled past that last word, as if her mouth could not find a way to make it fit. "Since the evidence strongly suggests that you are a spy-" Her voice broke on the word, "-we, or more aptly, the Council, have decided that you must be detained and interrogated."

Have you ever had a moment when you could see your entire world crumble before your eyes?

I have. More than once.

The rush of hot water over my body helped to calm me, if only slightly. I lifted my face into the spray and ran my hands through my hair. My headache was completely gone now—only to be replaced by a dull ache that pulsed throughout my entire body. My head was so cluttered with thoughts, with actions, and with words, that the only way to drown them out was to focus on the ache. And, obviously, drowning out pain with more pain isn't really a good idea. But it was all that I could do.

I leaned against the wall of the shower and ran my hand down my face. The shock was still evident on my features. The last time I had looked in a mirror, I resembled nothing of the cool, calm man that others categorized me as. My face was pale, and my mouth was set in a hard, straight line, as if resisting the gravity that threatened to pull it down. As for my eyes—they were the eyes of a hopeless man. I wouldn't call them eyes, really. They were more like black holes.

I remembered every word that she had said, even though it had been a few hours ago. I still remember every word she said, even though it has been countless days since that moment. She had taken my hand in hers. "Kakashi," she had said, her voice smoldering—there really was no other way to describe it. "I will not let this happen to you."

That is why she had arranged for me to be hidden until this was all cleared up. I frowned, remembering her choice. Hiashi Hyuuga had agreed to harbor me, even if it was somewhat grudgingly. Shocker, I know.

"Hiashi?" I had hissed in a low, rasping voice. "What the hell? You know that he and I don't exactly get along." He was exactly the opposite of me. He was cold and rigid, the kind of guy that stuck to the rules, no matter what. Me, I liked to think of myself as a funny guy. A guy that follows the rules until there's a time that they're meant to be broken. Trying to shove Hiashi and me into the same room was like trying to get Jiraya to become a homo. It was just unnatural.

So of course I had been in shock when she explained that I would be hidden at the Hyuuga compound for an indiscernible amount of time. I had been even more shocked when I learned that the only reason Hiashi was doing this was because he had done something wrong, and Tsunade had blackmailed him into doing her this favor. Well, maybe blackmailed is the wrong word. She sort of bribed him—if he did this for her, she would convince to council to drop all his charges. Because, apparently, the charges against me were greater—Hiashi wouldn't be detained on sight. I, on the other hand, would.

I shook my head as I turned off my shower. The steam rose around me as I reached for my towel and wrapped it around myself. I wonder what that man had done. I couldn't see Hiashi doing anything criminal. He was so uptight he seemed like he always had a pole shoved up his ass.

Oh well, it wasn't my place. I toweled off my hair and made my way to my room. It was a good thing that Tsunade had more faith in me than the council of elders, I thought as I stared at the small bag that contained most of my belongings. These accusations were absurd. Why the hell would I spy on Konoha? Konoha was my home! I would never… I had to stop myself. I knew that I could go on fuming all day, but then nothing would get done. Damn whoever did this to me. Damn the evidence. What could the council have found that would make me look like a spy? I glared daggers at my bag. That small, insignificant beige lump was the only thing that made this all real to me. Funny, isn't it, how it's the small things that make you realize the direness of the situation?

There was a loud rap on my door as I finished pulling on my clothes. I turned reluctantly from trying to bore a hole in my bag and slipped my mask over my face. It was Lady Tsunade, here to escort me to the Hyuuga compound. Not that I needed escorting, seeing as we'd just be teleporting there, but Tsunade was probably afraid that if I showed up by myself Hiashi would call off the deal and kick me out then and there. Like I said, we didn't really get along. At all.

I glanced around my room for what would be the last time in a long time. I would miss it. Although it was sparsely furnished, even less so now that I had almost emptied it of anything meaningful to me, it was still my room. My eyes swept past my bed and desk until they rested on my large weapon holders. On a second thought, I quickly shoved them into my bag and zipped it closed. You know. Just in case.

I turned and exited my room, closing the door behind me. I strode quickly to the door, but paused with my hand on the knob. I turned and looked over my house—my home—one final time. My eyes swept past my messy kitchen and the smaller, yet still significant, piles of clothes on the floor. I vowed to myself that when I got back, I would clean it. When. I preferred that word over if.

There was another sharper, more impatient knock on my door. "Yeah, yeah, don't bust my door down; I can't afford another one," I called out.

I allowed myself one final longing glance before turning to meet my fate.


I looked out of my window wistfully. It was another beautiful day. Maybe today, I'll be able to hang out with my friends, like any other normal twenty-year-old. Maybe today, my father will look at me and see something worthwhile. Maybe today Neji will—

"Hinata!" A loud bang interrupted my thoughts. I jumped and almost knocked over a vase that I had been arranging flowers in. Catching it and steadying it, I sighed in relief and looked up to see my sister, Hanabi, with her usual scowl plastered on her face. Well, usual isn't really the right word. It was her usual expression when she was in my presence. To everyone else, she was as radiant as the sun.

Never mind what I had been hoping before. Hanabi's scowl said volumes about what today was going to be like. Today's forecast: sunny with a large chance of Horrible.

"H-Hanabi c-chan, g-good m-morning." I stuttered my way through morning greetings as usual. My speech impediment was yet another reason my family found me weak and worthless.

Hanabi rolled her eyes, skipping the pleasantries as was usual for her. "Daddy wants to see us," and I could tell that she believed that 'daddy' only wanted to see her, but he didn't want to seem rude. Hanabi was such a daddy's girl—literally. She was the only one comfortable enough around Father to use such pet names for him. But the real reason Hanabi loved Father so much was because Father loved her more. She was like his follower—his protégé, if, in the Hyuuga clan a girl can be called a protégé.

I stood and patted down my traditional Kimono. Outside of my house, I wore my ninja clothing, the same outfit every time. But inside, I was a Hyuuga heiress. It was my duty to look—if not fit—the part.

Duty. That word always left a bitter taste in my mouth, even though it was a frequent part of my vocabulary. I had used that word so often in my childhood that it became a habit to describe anything that was necessary but that I disliked doing as a duty.

Duties to my family were the ones that defined my distaste for the word. I didn't really fit in my family; I was an oddball in the Hyuuga clan. On the outside, I looked like a Hyuuga, but on the inside, I was of a completely different species. No matter how much I disliked duties to my family, I couldn't do much about them. I could not hate my familial duties with passion, for I'd get punished if I did. I could only hate dully, from a distance. Everything I did with my family seemed to be from a distance. No matter how hard my father tried to make it seem to the outside world that I was accepted in my family, I just wasn't. Half of it was of my own accord. I didn't fit in with my family, and they didn't really try to get me to fit in. It was easier that way.

Hanabi grabbed my arm and pulled me after her. I stumbled, not expecting her haste, and she snorted. I was glad that she was mature enough now to not make fun of me for every mistake, as she used to. It's not like Hanabi and I didn't get along. We were like any other pair of sisters—we fought, we cried, we screamed, together. We did have our good moments, but lately they were few and far between. The only difference between us and regular sisters was that we seemed to exist in our own little ecosystems.

Our family had its own little ecosystem, too. Hanabi was like the sun. Everyone loved and adored her. She actually couldn't see how it could be any other way. She was a spoiled child. It wasn't her fault; it probably was Father's. He indulged her too often, and she began to expect it. Her brightness was probably because of everyone else's attentions.

If Hanabi was the sun, then I was the moon, in the last throes of its waning cycle. In our family's small world, I was definitely not in the center. I was off to the side, throwing a wan light on those around me. I was merely an accessory, not incredibly vital. I was there, but no one really noticed me unless they looked hard.

I was snapped out of my revere as we entered the sitting room used exclusively by our family. Father sat at the head of a long table, sipping a cup of tea as an attendant stood nearby. If Hanabi was the sun, and I was the moon in our familial universe, then Father was our earth. He revolved around Hanabi, and I, dutifully, revolved around him.

Our father looked up at us, his cold brown eyes frostbitten as they met mine. I bowed and stuttered my way through a standard greeting for this time of day. It did nothing to sway his wintry features. However, once his eyes met Hanabi's, the frost in them melted and I watched winter progress rapidly into summer. Our family's sun had done her job—the following enthusiastic greeting was hardly necessary. But it helped a bit; the calm mirror that was father's face cracked, the corners of his mouth spider-webbing upwards, without all the bad side effects that normally came from breaking glass.

"Hinata, Hanabi." Our father smiled as best as he could manage, his voice a snowmelt—flowing, yet still cold. "Good morning to you both." He gestured to the attendant and then spoke to Hanabi. "Follow Anjo-san, please. He has breakfast ready for you. I need to speak to Hinata alone." No matter how hard father tried to hide it, his voice sounded off. Tension, I presumed. What was displeasing him today? Was it me?

Hanabi's lower lip jutted out in a drama-queen pout. Her eyes were burning with curiosity, but she didn't press the matter; she merely glanced at me before following our servant out of the room. My questions were mirrored in her gaze, and I knew why she didn't push Father to let her stay. She was obviously expecting him to chew me out. As was I.

Which was why I was surprised when Father closed the door, locking it securely. He turned and spoke to me in rush of words—I wasn't ready for the sudden flow. He had never spoken more then ten words at a time to me, so twenty or even thirty seemed like an excess. "Hinata. What I am about to tell you, you must not repeat to anyone. Promise me," he said, glaring at me for a few moments before continuing. "It must be our secret. No one but you and I and our… guest… must know." Guest? What guest? "Listen, Hinata. Tsunade has…persuaded me to harbor a fugitive." My eyes widened and my father smirked tensely before continuing. "He's not your normal fugitive—he actually may be innocent. But his life is in danger because of the accusations of the Council. He could be killed as a traitor."

I managed to get a few words in. "Why… why must we harbor him?" What had made Lady Tsunade choose us? Our family, while heavily guarded from the outside world, was gossip-prone. It wasn't the smartest choice on her part.

"Well, you see, Lady Tsunade and I made a deal." He smiled grimly, but I noticed his face darken. "And, unfortunately, my duties prevent me from watching over our fugitive myself. Therefore, I have appointed you as his guardian. Lady Tsunade has offered to give you a mission credit if you do this, because, of course, we will say that you are on a mission. You will not eat, train, or even look outside of the walls of the Hyuuga compound until this is resolved." His voice became cold and hard again—black winter ice.

I opened my mouth to protest, but was cut off by two loud rushing sounds. I immediately put them into place. Two ninjas had teleported right into our sitting room.

I turned grudgingly to look upon the man that would keep me from my life.