Lessons in Love
Summary: After failing an important mission, Hinata resolves to better herself - the only problem is, who will teach her?
Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto do you think I would be here? That said...I do not own Naurto. Clearly. Possibly. Maybe...
A/N: This is a Hinata/Jiraiya - reader BEWARE! If you don't like this pairing you have been warned. This is my first story so please be gentle. This is the first of many chapters and if you like it I would appreciate any feedback.
ALSO - This story has been beta'd and therefore entirely rewritten by Emerald Elf-Slytherin707! You guys should go read her awesome stories (but be warned, she is a slash fiend).
Yours,
Jaggarte x
Chapter 1: A Mission Failed
Her heart was beating fiercely, breath quick.
With a sudden shove forward, hard-soled feet made their way across the threshold, a hand retreating where it had 'helped' her through the door, as she fixed her eyes on the target.
The inn was just like any house of debauchery you might find hidden in the scantly-visited street ends of a shinobi village, and filled with all the regular attachments - loose women, looser men, cheap beer and the pungent smell that seemed to flow from the crumbling ends of cheap cigarettes.
Wiping her hands on the front of her kimono, she swallowed thickly, and slowly, steadily, walked forward - the noise of the inn consuming her, as her gaze fixed on a certain man.
Many different eyes stalked her as she walked forward, sizing her up, following her figure from head to toe - and she tried fiercely to keep her face plain, blank, and free of colour - her eyes never moving from the man at the table, closer to her now, who seemed not to notice her at all; hunched over an empty cup as he was.
It was her teammates who entered then, and whom took a table not very far away from where she was headed, that would later claim to have seen much less than they did.
And she was almost there.
"Oy, waitress!" The raspy voice was mean with inebriation. "Another sake! Just bring the bottle this time..."
She inched closer, heart beating faster than ever - and though she wouldn't think of it later, in that moment, she considered running.
But she couldn't fail this. Not this time, not when it was this important. People had put their trust in her to succeed in this, and she wouldn't let them down.
And then, with a look of confusion and arrogance, the man's head lifted, and suddenly he met her gaze.
The girl was struck dumb for a moment, holding her breath, as she felt suppressed blood rush to heat her cheeks - and she bowed her head. With all her effort, she tried to remember what her teammates had told her about her duties - the way she should act, what she should say - but it fled her mind and left only the crippling terror that sent her hands shaking and lips stuttering, as she edged her way further towards him.
In all truth, it was a wonder that she didn't faint on the spot.
The sounds of the laughter and loud conversation around her seemed to ebb, a certain tense silence that only she and man in front of her could hear coming to rest between them, as she closed her eyes, swallowed what remained of her confidence, and took the seat across from him.
And there was a strange moment that passed by them, before, ever so slowly, a wide and degrading grin spread over the man's face, and a simple question escaped his lips - rusty with overuse.
"How much?"
Her eyes flung open, her face clearing as she stared up at him, and dared to meet his eyes in her shock and confusion.
"E-e-exc-excuse m-m-me?" She stuttered painfully, the first words she had spoken, all the while trying to understand what it was that he was asking.
"For a night," the man looked confused as well, at her lack of understanding, "you know, for sex. How much do you want for sex?"
The man's eyes brightened for one moment, and then dimmed when replaced by a horrible smirk, as her face went from pale white to, what can best be described as, a bloody red. Her eyes blinked several times, her mind going a thousand miles a second, trying to put words in her mouth. Her body went rigid - she couldn't even turn her eyes to look to her teammates for help - before her peripheral vision became clouded.
The man smirked on as she attempted to put into words, or at least syllables, that she wanted to buy him a drink and was not – in any way - for sale.
Faltering and tripping over her words, she realised in that moment that there was no possible succeeding outcome left in the situation.
It was a failure.
Mustering up her courage, the girl shakily went to stand and leave without another stuttered word - but was stopped, when the man put his hand on her arm.
"It'd be a crying shame if you left now honey, we haven't even introduced ourselves." The man's eyes had a dangerous glint to them now.
The girl considered running more than ever – for she knew, as all shinobi did, that her teammates would have her back in an instant – but at the same time, she knew, that that wasn't what truly mattered at the moment. This was a mission, her mission, and she needed information that only this man could provide – information that she could only get at this moment in time.
Standing up, with his hand still firmly holding her arm, the drunk led the girl to a door near the back of the shady bar. Walking past other tables, she noticed that the man was not as drunk as she had first thought - his steps were too sure for him to be very inebriated, and she noticed that the stains from what she had presumed to be spilt alcohol, were quite obviously strategically placed.
His appearance was set up.
This wasn't good.
Still being led to the door, that she thought must be the back door of the building, she looked back, searching for her friends - but could not see them. Out-rightly refusing to use her Byukagun, the girl swallowed her fear and tried to keep in step with the man, as the knowledge that she was going to be alone in whatever events conspired came to settle in her mind – along with a numbing fear.
Heaving open the back door, the man looked to his side where the girl stood – and she stilled at the look in his eyes. Leaving the entrance open, the man let go of her arm and turned his body slightly.
The girl looked up just in time to see his fist collide with her face.
The first thought that entered her mind was the fact that she was wearing a kimono - not at all suited to fighting, and that she felt disoriented from a mixtures of the atmosphere of the club, her own anxiety, and the blow to her head.
She was at a distinct disadvantage, and she knew it.
Throwing her to the ground, she felt a sharp pain in her side as the man kicked her cruelly – before he spat at her face.
But it was his next words that would leave the largest bruise.
"Tell your damn Kage," he sneered from above her, his face only a blur to her now, "from whatever shitty village you're from, that if they wants to know something – it would have been more subtle to send an autographed letter."
He half-heartedly flung a kunai at her as he turned away, which she, luckily, managed to shift out of aim for - though she knew he wasn't going to kill her, she felt fear shake her form.
She wasn't even worth the effort of killing.
He turned his back on her then, amplifying the fact that he wasn't concerned about her at all, and went back inside - to resume his drinking, and to pick up a real prostitute.
Struggling from where she lay on the filthy ground, the girl managed eventually to get up again. The kunai the man had thrown was buried on the ground next to her head, and as she stood, she realised the man had ripped her kimono in several places. She picked up the kunai, and stumbled out of the alley.
Walking out onto the street, she saw her teammates - who appeared severely concerned as they rushed towards her, but wouldn't look her in the eye. Embarrassed and ashamed, she stood there in the dark - unwilling to admit to what had just happened to her, and how she had failed so completely.
One of them spoke, though she didn't care to discern who.
"We saw it, all of it." He said, voice soft and kind. "Let's get you back to the inn, and you can wash up. You need to put something on that bruise, too."
Her hand tentatively touched her left cheek, and she winced at the lump that had formed there in so little time. Nodding, she followed behind her teammates, as they made their way to the inn that they had chosen to occupy for the mission.
As soon as they had arrived, the girl simply sat on her bed, as a message was composed for the Hokage - detailing that they had failed the mission and were awaiting their next orders – although they could all guess what they would be.
The night was long and painful, both physically and mentally for the girl, and she never did fall asleep. Every position was uncomfortable, and every thought was covered with disgrace.
She was, for the first time in her life, dreading the trip back home – facing the wrath of her family and the disappointment of her friends, she felt, would be too hard to bear.
Before the sun had reached the horizon, the girl woke from her not-quite slumber – ridden with fearful images and awful pain as it was - to hear the sound of wings. Walking to the window on the left side of the room and sliding it open, she saw a bird perched on the sill, with a letter attached to its leg.
After quickly reading the letter, her heart sank even lower – and she looked askance at her teammate's bedroom that adjoined to hers, as she thought about going to wake them. They were to go home immediately, to report to the Hokage about their failure.
With a steely silence, she quietly packed her bags that night, as she decided not to wake the boys - neatly folding each item as she bit back every tear that threatened to roll down her bruised cheeks. And the worst of it was, she knew her teammates would pity her - they would explain in the most courteous way her failure, and try to cover for her – and it all made her feel that much worse.
She was done, she knew. For how could she ever make up for such a colossal mistake? It would go on her record. She had acted like a Genin straight out of the academy, and no one could deny it.
Why couldn't she get it right? She wondered to herself, not for the first time. Why couldn't she succeed, just once?
And as she finished packing her bags and the sun was just rising over the hills, and she knew that the boys would wake up at any moment, she made up her mind.
She needed help.
She needed to learn to be confidant and able if she ever wanted another mission, or the trust of the Hokage, ever again.
It was only a question of who would teach her.