A/N: I figured I should have put this up earlier in chapter one or something, but here goes anyway:
I am fully aware there might be some inaccuracy about rugby teams, the PR industry, and the way both industries work in this fanfic, but I'm altering certain facts a little to fit the story, so do bear with me if you notice a few errors/irregularities with reality here and there. Eg. I don't think rugby teams are privately owned by people/organizations, the way the Sand Hawks is owned by Jiraiya in Arm Candy. However, I won't make things utterly unbelievable, that I can assure you. To clarify, I'm not a rugby player nor a member of the PR industry but I respect the work, talents and abilities of these professions. Please do pardon me if I make certain mistakes about either occupations and their related areas and inadvertently offend you in the process. :) FYI, no one has accused me of anything yet and that's a HUGE relief to me. 8)
Enjoy reading!
Disclaimer: Naruto and all characters are created by Masashi Kishimoto. No profits whatsoever are made from this fanfiction in anyway.
3.
"She's godlike."
"Incredible."
"Hardworking."
"Dives into her work like the way you dive for the ball, even though its beneath someone else's crotch."
"Not to mention highly efficient."
"Make that fabulously efficient. She set out my schedule in like - what? 5 minutes?"
"That's impossible, Inuzuka." Gaara pushed aside his empty plate as Kiba shovelled the last spoonful of rice into his mouth, his fork poised over the remaining food piled on his plate.
"Close enough." Kiba grinned, creasing the two crimson tattoos on his cheeks. The very first time Gaara had been introduced to him, he thought they looked fairly tribal; inverted and triangular, the tattoos were also slightly faded. It was also a well-known fact that these tattoos were a distinctive feature of the Inuzuka family - most of the time Kiba played, Gaara could spot a few dark haired Inuzukas with the exact same tattoos somewhere in the crowd.
Most of the men in his team had odd tattoos, himself included, so he wasn't one to say anything either. However, it could prove pretty intimidating to an outsider when the Inuzuka family made their stand in the stadium and hollered loudly to cheer Kiba on, or booed boisterously at the opponents.
"Wait - who the heck are you guys talking about again?"
Uzumaki-Namikaze Naruto, son of the legendary Namikaze Minato who once played the position of fullback for the FireBlades, might have been listening in on their conversation for the past five minutes, but he didn't look as though he knew what was going on. Blond haired and blue-eyed with distinctly boyish features, Naruto ran like the devil himself on the field and was spectacular as the inside-centre for the team, but he could be pretty clueless when it came to certain things. That was not to say Naruto had taken too many hits to the head and was a dumb jock. There was a time to be sensible and serious, and Naruto definitely knew when to quit joking and listen. Numerous critics had sworn he carried the traits of his father with him despite the different positions they played; tenacity, perseverance and just the right amount of recklessness and smart thinking. He could have passed off as the proverbial bad boy...that is, until he opened his mouth or smiled.
"Hyuuga Hinata, Hyuuga Hinata." Akimichi Chouji said around a mouthful of chicken. The bulky and muscular prop, who weighed roughly 180 kilograms, was surprisingly laid-back in nature. His physicality made him possibly one of the largest, more powerful players on the team. Gaara would have never called him obese or overweight, and although what Chouji ate in a day could feed an army, the man had more muscles than fat in his body. His abilities on the field were never doubted by commentators at all, which proved that the energy from the food had indeed, been put into good use. Unlike the majority of the men, Chouji sported a slightly long haircut - rusty red-brown hair almost reached his shoulders - different, compared to the short, fuss free crop most players preferred.
"Jesus, I didn't kick your head that hard at practice!" Kiba commented while leaning forward to look at Naruto.
"The next time I get you, it'll be in your nuts." The blond growled. Turning to Gaara, who was seated beside him, Naruto adopted a more serious attitude. "So. She's your publicist?"
Gaara nodded.
"Speaking of publicists," Naruto said slowly, scratching the corner of his mouth. "I've been thinking-"
"You've been thinking?" Kiba popped in again.
"Sonovagun!"
It took a flying broccoli and a few curses from Kiba before Naruto resumed talking, this time in a lower tone and to Gaara specifically.
"We were there when Miraimi Yui approached you. It would definitely help if we issued a joint statement from the rest of the-"
"I'm not," Gaara said, jade eyes meeting deep blue orbs belonging to one of his closest friends. "Afraid. Because I haven't done as she said. I did not sleep with her, and neither am I responsible for anything. You believe me on that?" He gripped Naruto's shoulder.
"Without a doubt, man." Naruto said sincerely. "Without a doubt."
"Then don't do anything to trouble yourself. I want to get to this on my own."
"But," Naruto, tilted back his head, raising his eyebrows and glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes. "If I get mobbed by reps, I sure as hell am going to say something about it. As a spectator and as your friend," Naruto emphasised, "I have rights to speak up for you."
"Just don't mess up my publicist's plans."
The moment the words were out of his mouth, Gaara acknowledged grudgingly that he'd accepted what Kurenai or Hinata had in store for him. His tolerance however, was limited, and he would make sure Hinata got that message - if she proposed to navigate him through the murky waters of this scandal by making him out to be some, nice, shiny poster boy (which he was not) and to deal with this by just sitting on his ass and denying all claims, he'd be damned. He would have to put his foot down or return the delicate looking Ms Hyuuga to Jiraiya and Ms Yuuhi if she didn't cooperate.
If he had his way, he would get Miraimi Yui out from her hiding hole, demand why she was accusing him of such things, and then force her onto a DNA test which would show in solid black and white documents that he was not the goddamned father of her baby. Either that, or get the bastard who slept with her to come forward and show the world what a sorry piece of ass he was.
Although he'd heard enough of the compliments given to her and had acknowledged that Hinata was anything but one of the quintessential polished PR personnel, he had not experienced first-hand how she worked, and you could very well say he was wary on that count. It wasn't likely she would approve of his direct-as-hell method, but Gaara wanted very much to settle this once and for all - even better if it could be absolved within the snap of your fingers. He had better things to do than worry about a random woman accusing him of fathering her child, and he was absolutely not going to waste his time on such matters. Regardless, he was going to tell Hinata his intentions just to let her know what he thought.
"So, who are you bringing?"
Kiba and Naruto stared at him expectantly.
Gaara scowled. "What?" He asked bluntly.
"They're asking who you're bringing to the pre-game party." Chouji explained serenely, as though he understood why Gaara hadn't been paying attention to their conversation for the past few minutes.
Damn. He'd forgotten entirely about the lavish parties Jiraiya threw at his multimillion dollar home before and after seasonal games, but he didn't really have to search for a date since Hinata would have to be his, no thanks to Yuuhi Kurenai and Jiraiya.
It wasn't a very appalling idea, however. Hinata might not be stunning and gorgeous, but he sensed intelligence, wit and compassion in her despite her shyness. He didn't know why, but he knew would most likely not anticipate going home earlier with his usual harpy if he hadn't been hit with her around.
It also reminded him that it had been a long time - far too long - since he had the opportunity to take a decent woman (decent being one who respected herself and did not try to get her hand down his pants too eagerly) out for a date of sorts.
Gaara shrugged in response at after Chouji's clarification. "I'll find one by the time."
"As always." Naruto smirked.
If the guys were thinking of the usual blond on his arm, they'd be wrong. And very surprised too, he figured, but he couldn't blame them. That was who he was, and who he still was.
Only this time, there was going to be an exception.
Naruto's reaction also reminded him of something. Hinata was right. She'd said it wouldn't be convincing. She had anticipated this very well, had seen it in her mind's eye clearly and know that she would never work for him as his girlfriend - she'd even made it clear to everyone this morning.
Damn, but it didn't occur to him that the woman had seen this possible situation in her mind's eye. That meant she knew how she was viewed, how she would be viewed. There were no false or fancy illusions about her. She could predict this and neither was she afraid to voice it.
Along with that, he knew he'd just been given that little peek behind the facade he thought he'd judged correctly, the face he thought he knew just as everyone would assume the moment they laid eyes on Hyuuga Hinata.
How wrong they would have been.
"Does Hinata attend these parties?" He asked casually. He probably had seen her, but then again, he wouldn't have noticed her. It was a little startling to note how easy it was for her to slip past him so quickly, and somehow, it didn't please him one bit.
"Sometimes," Kiba said, scratching his ear. "She treats these parties mostly as..." He scrunched his face, trying to grasp for a word. "I don't know. It's like she never relaxes."
"She frigid?" Naruto asked, before looking at his teammate while chugging down an entire bottle of water. All of them drank a lot to make sure they weren't dehydrated, which also meant that they peed a lot, but it was definitely better than being dehydrated or fainting on the field like a girl, and not being able to exert yourself physically and make full use of the time. The entire team rarely drank alcohol - it was a no-no to consume them during practice season before any major games, and you were literally screwed if you broke the rule. Bingeing on alcohol meant you couldn't have a clear head in practice, which screwed up plenty of plans the head coach had prepared, and in the long run, also lowered the risks of clinching victories. As captain, one of the off field responsibilities he had was to make sure the guys didn't do stupid things like these. Jiraiya had made his stand pretty clear by imposing strict fines or even a ban from participating in practice sessions and official games, for players who didn't have enough brains to keep their hands away from alcohol.
"More work oriented, I would say." Chouji put in. "Its a timely moment for her to maintain her contacts or build them. She also appears because it's compulsory, and Jiraiya insists everyone who has been issued an invitation to attend."
"Yeah. It's either that or... she really doesn't know how to have fun." Naruto pointed out, grinning slightly. Gaara couldn't see how that was funny. If he had a choice to attend a party or spend more time on the field alone, kicking, he would choose the latter. He figured Hinata would do the same - just substitute the kicking for a book perhaps. Parties like these only made him bored and most of the time Gaara occupied himself with a female and observed how people reacted/interacted with each other, or to him. He found the small talk and flattery meaningless since he could very well have spent the hours lengthening his practice sessions.
"It's not that," Chouji said, pointing his knife at Naruto, who eyed it warily. He chewed on his boiled potatoes and said, "The parties aren't that exciting to me at least, and I can understand why she'd rather not be there."
Gaara nodded. "How do you know she never relaxes at such parties?" He directed his question at Kiba.
"Body language," The Inuzuka nodded wisely. "You can definitely tell it from the way she holds herself."
Kiba's method of observing always proved to be accurate especially on the field, but this was an inane ability of most human beings and Gaara knew what he meant. Kiba might seem rash and reckless, but there he had a knack for reading people well and Gaara seldom doubted it. However, he would be the judge for himself, Gaara decided.
And if they wanted this to look convincing and not...wooden-like, both of them had to do something about it.
Rubbing his jaw, Gaara tilted back his head, brooding, and almost didn't catch the next few words Naruto uttered.
"...old man's getting crazy I swear. Says he wants some goddamned Halloween masquerade themed party. Like we want to rack our brains deciding what to go as! Remember last year? It was some space shit. There was so much mirrors and neon lights, I thought-"
"Say that again." Gaara said. He could feel his muscles tensing. Christ, did Jiraiya have to have a theme for all of his party? It was a wonder the man didn't run out of ideas.
"What?" Naruto asked, bewildered. "The space shit theme? Dude, you were there-"
"The theme of the party." Gaara gritted out.
"Oh right. Halloween-Masquerade. It's supposed to be real sexy and stuff. Or so the perv says." Naruto repeated. "Cos' this time, the pre-game party falls close to Halloween and all."
"Bullshit." Chouji added. "I'm not going as anything. My tux is perfectly fine, and I always wear it to his parties, even though they're always themed. I am absolutely not gonna waste my hard earned money on stupid costumes."
Gaara lifted his water bottle in a mock toast. "My sentiments exactly."
"Aw man, you guys are no fun!" Kiba grinned. "Just for the heck of it, come in something you'll feel good wearing. Give everyone something to talk about!"
Give everyone something to talk about.
Gaara's eyes narrowed.
National Rugby League's sexiest rugby player of the year was 193 cm tall, tipped the scales at a solid 97 kilograms, shared the same star sign as her (Capricorn) and was generally one hell of a rugby player. That was all she could know for now.
Specific key word being could.
The rest, Hinata thought as she gazed across the table at the freshly showered, hunky redhead seated opposite her in a cosy restaurant, would have to be made known to her with his help.
The Hyuuga had spent some time pondering over how best to tackle his scandal in the office. The usual way was to understand so-and-so better, know what he wanted to do, what sort of message he wanted to communicate before she set down any plans for him. But Gaara wasn't used to having a publicist, and he might find that intrusive.
As like every other person, she had so many impressions of Gaara. She'd assumed plenty of things about him, and as his publicist, she needed to mentally erase everything she ever knew about him and start from scratch. She would be the judge - she would form new impressions about him with clues from his own lips, his own words. There was no need for jaundiced eyes and thus, Hinata had mentally erased (as best as she could) her memory of publications on him - newspapers/magazine articles, relevant documents on him, even media releases. She'd read them because she wanted a hawk's eye of how often he appeared in public and the general image he presented, which she could sum it up in two words respectively: popular and reclusive.
An odd combination it was, but not uncommon. It was clever - people thought they knew plenty about him, but news (him having a penchance for blonds, his skills as a rugby player and his public appearances) about Gaara merely kept people occupied and far away from the other more private matters which she presumed he did not want strangers/ardent fans to know.
It was very tricky - knowing him as a public figure and knowing him personally were two very different things, viewpoints she needed to be careful about.
Hinata wanted Gaara to know that they were starting on a clean slate. Now, she saw him just as a stranger - a very attractive one - who had a problem.
Some people said a publicist was like the personal guardian of the client - he knew his client well on a personal level, understood his character and needs as well as a mother would her child, in order to be able to represent him and pass on the information he himself would have constructed. She required him to come clean with everything; no secrets, no nothing. Of course, she would have to read up on what his current image was in public, but not now. Later, after she'd formed her impressions of him based solely on interaction.
And hence back to the intrusive part: she had to know mostly everything about him in order to ensure clear communication, strategy and a correct solution for him. What she feared was his reluctance to allow her in. That all depended on how she could persuade him, she guessed.
Besides that, something else of more importance tugged at her too - Hinata had made a discovery which would certainly help with his personal scandal. She hoped it would put him in a pretty positive mood.
Hinata darted another glance at him. He looked so good, she had to take him in slowly glance by glance, or she feared all coherent thoughts and the proper use of her voice would have been disabled.
Appalling, really, the way she was behaving.
Apparently, Gaara had just showered - the ends of his hair were clumped together and the crimson mass had a dark, russet-brown look to it. They were untidy as usual, probably having been treated to a vigorous rubbing by his towel. Under his black leather jacket, he'd donned on a black shirt with a logo of the Hawks and another pair of worn out jeans.
He looked intimidating and every inch the proverbial bad boy.
When he'd first step into the restaurant and sought her presence, the reaction from most females weren't blatantly obvious, but did not escape her eyes either - they sat up slightly and took notice of him, alright. She imagined things like these didn't happen, but it obviously did - the Hyuuga could almost see heads swivelling a little to catch a glimpse as well as a few interested gazes of some men who recognised him instantly.
He was just so...solid, you had to look at him. And when he made a beeline for her, simultaneously, thanking the waiter who'd shown him in with a curt nod, Hinata could almost feel the eyes of several females boring into her. A good reason for her to request a private area of the restaurant, right at the back, where most newcomers wouldn't have noticed unless someone told them. She did notice the stares, but she was mainly wondering how a huge man like him could move so swiftly and gracefully.
The waiter took their orders without so much as a blink of his eye and promptly served them warm water.
"How was your day?" She asked, trying to stem her tide of nervousness and smiling at him.
"Great." He said, rolling broad shoulders beneath his shirt, turning his head this way and that. And because it was only polite of him, he inquired after her. "How was yours?"
"Fruitful." Hinata acknowledged, meeting those intense jade orbs. It was as though he'd given her all his attention and was absorbing every word that came out of her lips. Hinata had a gut feeling it wasn't because of what she'd said - the redhead was just that intense. At the meeting that morning, she'd noticed the same intensity in his eyes. It was as though he seemed to be keeping a beast hidden within him, ready to unleash hell upon anyone who dared him to. It lurked beneath those deep jade eyes, watching, assessing, ready to defend or attack if the situation was ripe, unwilling to rest.
Always on guard.
Hinata would have called a man foolish if he wanted to go against this man.
Gaara tucked in his chin and gazed at her, brows rising ever so slightly.
"You found something."
Hinata nodded.
"I contacted a young man working at the Rock Eye Hotel. He works at the cafe the Sand Hawks were dining at in the last time the team travelled to Iwa, and he was there when he saw-"
"Miraimi Yui approaching me."
"Yes." Hinata allowed a full smile to reach her lips. Accomplishment and satisfaction surged through her.
Gaara's eyes flicked to her lips in the span of a nanosecond.
"He saw you there, he saw everything." She continued, leaning forward against the table, speaking in low tones. "He recounted to me the incident over the phone. But I wanted to know if he was a reliable source, if he could be trusted, and I called to ask the manager of the cafe."
"And what do you think of him?"
"Absolutely reliable." She bobbed her head once, solemnly. "But I didn't hook him up with a journalist, nor did I tip any journalists off."
"How is that going to work?"
"Well, this is what I think is right." Hinata said a little hesitantly. "But do tell me what you think after I explain it."
Gaara nodded and reached for his water, his eyes rarely leaving hers.
"If the public sees us feverishly trying to gather alibis or evidence to prove that you declined Miraimi, that you had nothing to do with her, it would be a little too desperate. Some might even think we're covering up something more serious or heinous." Hinata raised her eyes, searching for a reaction. "I wanted him to go to the press on his own volition, and I merely thanked him for giving me a clearer view on what transpired that day, because I wasn't there and that was it. About an hour later, this-" Hinata pulled out a crisp sheet of paper from a folder and passed it to Gaara "-appeared on a news website."
Hinata bit her lips and laced her fingers together as the redhead studied the article she'd printed. He would see an article - not too lengthy or short - on the young cafe worker who had seen him declining Miraimi and moving to retire to his room, as well as two CCTV screen shots of a blond lady walking away from Gaara in a huff and another showing Gaara entering his room alone.
"The fact that he went to the press on his own volition is an advantage to us. What this shows, is that we don't need to dig for evidence because you did no wrong. Everybody knows that, and that's why you've been behaving calmly. The truth will prevail. The public will judge for themselves if you did it or not, and hopefully, press Miraimi to take back her words."
Gaara looked up at her, his gaze steady and penetrating.
"You're everything they said, Ms Hyuuga. And more."
"H-Hinata." Hinata swallowed. "Just call me Hinata."
"Hinata." He drawled. It was amazing how sexy he made her name sound. Oh, she was seriously in hot soup.
"They?" She croaked, her cheeks heating.
"Kiba and Chouji." Gaara elucidated. "They are in praise of you."
"A-ah." She nodded slightly, blushing to the tips of her hair
"I appreciate your efficiency and perceptivity in doing things." He inclined his head. "A lot."
She wondered if it was possible to combust under his gaze. Maybe combusting wouldn't be so bad, since she obviously felt awkward with the compliments he'd just gave her.
"T-that is required of me." She said faintly.
"No." He stared at her, putting his glass of water down. "You think it's required, but some people will think that's unnecessary. After all, why go the extra mile?"
Hinata blinked and decided to examine her hands. At that moment, the waiter arrived with the food and Hinata thanked her lucky stars she didn't have to deal with Gaara's words. She didn't know what to do or what to say - the food would certainly provide the much needed distraction.
"So what's your next move?" The redhead asked casually after she thanked the waiter and prepared to tuck in.
After several careful bites of her chicken and when she'd made sure she swallowed them fully, she spoke. "Well, the next one might be a little indirect."
Taking a deep breath, she stared into his eyes. "I need to know you better."
His gaze snapped to hers, holding her there for more than a second or two.
"I need to know who you are. I need to know how you want others to think of you. I need to know how you will respond to something like what Miraimi has created for you. I need to know everything about you."
Heat crept up her neck, and her palms felt sweaty again. Her heart thundered in anticipation at his reaction.
"Information's out there, isn't it?" He asked, tone a little hard.
Was he angry?
"But they're views of others. I want to form my own impressions of you. I don't need their views or impressions of you." Hinata's grip tightened on her knife. Well, hell, she was feeling nervous, and the only thing she could hold onto was the cutlery which happened to be a dinner knife. She had to persuade him quick. She knew it - he really was reluctant about this.
"We're starting on a clean slate here, Gaara." She said gently. "I know it's going to be intrusive, and you might not like it," She took another deep breath, gathering her courage. "But in order for us to have clear communication and work together properly to tide this over, I really need to know everything I have to about you."
"Past girlfriends included?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Well yes, but that isn't very really important, and unless she is Miraimi Yui, no. I'm thinking areas like your family, your ho-"
The tensing of his shoulders, like the one in his fingers, was so very subtle but it didn't miss her eyes, and Hinata instinctively knew she'd touched on a sensitive area.
"Oh dear," She murmured, putting down her knife and fork, white eyes meeting his. "It's going to be very tricky, isn't it?"
He stared at her, just a hint of turmoil in his eyes. "Yes." He bit out, that edgy, wary look hardening his eyes.
No, Hinata thought mentally. She didn't want him closing her out.
Biting her lips, she didn't say anything for a moment.
"W-Would you mind telling me then? About your family?"
Hinata didn't know the source of her newfound courage, but from the way Gaara reacted, she wanted to reassure him, to hear the story behind Sabaku Gaara. She didn't want to know him just because she needed to - she wanted to, as a friend would care about another. She wanted to pull him close, hold his hand, or just to touch him. The urge was so strong, so acute, she almost had to fight the itch by curling her fingers into her palms.
XXXXX
She really shouldn't have asked that question, Gaara thought as he stared at the delicate-looking face behind those glasses, her lips partly opened, eyes soft yet steadfast and ready, open to him.
There it was again, he thought. That amazing contrast. He couldn't fathom how she did it.
It scared him to know that he himself wanted to tell her everything about his family - the father who'd never acknowledged him, the wealthy half-siblings who did not know about him, the mother he was so terribly close to, and her subsequent death. Somehow, he knew she would listen. She was like Naruto - strong enough to take it, strong enough for him to respect and confide in, even though she absolutely did not look like it.
It was crazy. He'd gotten to know her for less than 24 hours, and his gut was already telling him she could measure up to Naruto, a friend of more than a decade.
Seated against the dark colors of the restaurant's interior, Hinata looked petite and almost fragile, her face like a China doll's - her skin was fair and luminous, her lips pink and her hair so black, so inky, the contrast against her pale skin was startling. It was still in the same bun, although several strands had escaped the clutches of her tie. It was as though Gaara saw her clearer now, compared to the very first time when a huge oak table had separated them in the meeting room. His thoughts weren't on her then, and he was too busy mulling over the fresh scandal.
The way he saw it now, Hinata was giving him a chance to peel off the exterior everyone saw when they set eyes on him. A clean slate. She wanted to judge him based on his actions alone - not on the extravagant paintings the media had painted with such broad strokes.
But the one reason that was stopping him from telling her?
She wanted to know everything about him just so they could work together properly. And what was it all for? To polish his grimy image? He could see the point, could see what she was driving at - clearer communication, clearer instructions and understanding. But building an image was nothing to him, dammit.
"Did you do the same with Akimichi and Inuzuka?"
Hinata nodded. "Yes. I didn't want to misrepresent them. They are who they are... and it's always best to make sure that they're represented the way they naturally are, the way they want to." She pushed up her glasses with her index finger. "Tell me what doesn't sit well with you." She said softly, one hand resting on the table top.
She was upfront and very clear. And he liked that a lot, but he wasn't going to show it.
"I see your point in getting to know me better." He said, brows lowering. "But you heard me in the meeting room today, Hinata. I don't give a damn about image and if a polished image is what we're working for via your little 'get to know me' method, I am against it. I don't need more publicity. I don't need you to know my family background in order to represent me. Judge me the way you do right now."
Hinata shook her head, her white eyes anxious. "You misunderstand. I don't want to polish your image for you, neither do I want to pass you off as someone whom you're not. You are Gaara. I can't change that, no one can change that. All I want to do is represent you. If you're worried about me leaking private information like particulars of family members to the press, be assured t-that I won't. I'm bound by laws of the company, and I can be sued or fired if I do that. I want neither." She said in a rush. "I just want to understand you better, to get this incident out of the way the way you would want to. I meant no offence." Her head shook again. She sat with her spine straight her hands hidden under the tablecloth, in her lap, her face paler than usual.
He was being overly wary, he knew, but he'd never told anyone about his family before. Even Naruto didn't know about his half-siblings or the issue with his father - just his mother. He was willing to let on the fact that he'd been raised by a single parent, but the rest about his father and his half-siblings were out of the question. It wasn't because he was afraid of them (like hell). It was because he wanted nothing to do with people who reminded him that he hadn't been... worthy enough to acknowledge, worthy enough to be acknowledged publicly by his father.
And in the end, what had his father been pursuing?
A wholesome image. Money.
Be reasonable, a voice said quietly. Hyuuga Hinata is doing her best to represent you. She made it clear that you aren't going to conform. You don't have to. And she has no reason to leak information, unless she wants to lose her job.
What was it then? What was that barrier preventing him from telling his friends about his family? He wanted to get up and pace, but he couldn't. He dropped his knife and fork on the table, as Hinata stared down at her plate, as though disappointed at herself.
Disappointment. Was it self-directed disappointment then? Did he feel... humiliated about it? Felt worthless even?
He rejected it at once, almost violently, but another part of his mind knew that that was it. He himself could not deal with the raw emotions which he'd hastily covered with a plaster, much less tell it to Hinata. Gaara gazed at the woman across from him, he throat working as she swallowed and blinked, disappointment at herself etched in her face.
This pint sized woman represented rugby players taller, larger and bigger than her. It had to take alot of courage to do that, and his reaction obviously caused her to smart. She took it as failure on her part, he realised, just like him.
His father's lack of acknowledgment clearly played a huge role in his life. He wanted it buried, but it was constantly on his mind all his life. It was the catalyst for his meteoric rise, as well as his reclusiveness, his penchant for not wanting people to get too close to him. Naruto had broken down that barrier successfully.
Hinata was halfway through.
Do it. A voice egged him on relentlessly. There's nothing to be ashamed or humiliated about. You made a name for yourself out of nothing. There's nothing you can't do. Face it. Face the emotions you want buried.
Face it by telling Hinata.
He was just about to speak when she looked up at him and said, "Wait."
Did the woman mind read?
Gaara watched her expectantly.
"Don't tell me." She elaborated, moistening her lips. "I- I want to tell you something before you tell me your story. I understand you feel you might be at a disadvantage - I'll tell you my family background, everything about it. It's not such a tragedy, nor is it very exciting, and you can choose not to tell me yours after I finish."
Whoa. He tucked in his chin and looked at her.
She was playing it fair.
She didn't need to, but she was going to.
And he was in awe.
Heck, he was never in awe - well, only when someone showed exceptional talent on the field, in a game.
Before he could say anything, Hinata started in a rush.
"I- I come from a family of four: My father, my younger sister, Hanabi and my older cousin, Neji." She glanced to her right, out the window, as though she couldn't bear to look at him. "My mother passed away shortly after giving birth to Hanabi."
It wasn't only him then, who'd lost a mother.
"Hanabi is twenty-four. Neji is of the same age as you. Neji's father and mother perished in car accident when he was three. He was the sole survivor of the crash. My father took him in and we basically grew up together. Hanabi's a... very outgoing person, and she's very smart. Whatever is on her mind, she speaks, most of the time at least. Because we lost our mother, my father had to raised three children single-handedly - a very difficult task. And he believed he could only accomplish that by being strict and formidable, so that we'd listened to him. His word was law, and we never dared to break it. As we grew older, he was still strict all the same. To make a long story short, what he basically did was to point out many mistakes we made and correct them, telling us it was never enough, that we weren't there yet. Because I was afraid, I made even more mistakes and he would be more annoyed, and I would be even more afraid. It was a cycle. The pressure was there, and so was the high level of expectation. As a result, I yearned to be acknowledged, to be praised, and this...fear and doubt grew in me. Like I knew I wasn't going to be able to succeed, and I was never going to have a chance to prove myself. I spent a lot of time worrying about that, even till today-"
Hinata paused, as though tired. A few seconds later, she ploughed on. "It got to be so bad that when I faced decisions and I had to take initiative, in my mind's eye, I was always trying to leap an extremely high hurdle, with my father standing there, watching me condescendingly, knowing I could not." White eyes met his, and she nodded awkwardly. "I'd start doubting my abilities, thinking about failure, and that made me hesitate to do plenty of things. Do you remember the part where we were discussing the p-plan this morning?"
He nodded.
"I almost couldn't object to it. I spent alot of time trying to overcome my doubts quickly, to gather my courage, to point out that it would be done better another way, or not at all. I struggled with it. Nowadays, it doesn't bother me so much, because my father is aware of all that I am capable of, and he makes sure I know that too. I know that when I take that leap, when I want to, I can do it."
Hinata shifted slightly.
"I think my father can't be blamed. He was afterall learning how to raise not one, but three children alone. You couldn't very well blame him for behaving like that. He didn't know how to handle the fear in me, and neither did I, initially. I was the one who imagined plenty of things, who was overly sensitive. I needed to learn how to deal with it, and I'm still learning, but it's much better now. And that's the end."
She smiled, but then her forehead creased a little, as though realising something. "Oh dear. It sounds like I told you more about my fears than my family." She gazed down at her hands and laughed a little. "That is kind of embarrassing."
"I'm not going to laugh at that." Gaara said huskily. "I never contemplated doing that. You did tell me about your family afterall."
Hinata's openness about her lack of self-confidence and esteem was unlike anything he'd ever seen. He was impressed. It wasn't easy at all for her to tell him about herself, about her hesitance, her fears, her cause for her lack of esteem, and her acknowledgement of it all. She'd laid down her weapons even before he moved to surrender his, and ran the risk of him snubbing her, mocking her. It must have taken oodles and oodles of courage before she decided to tell him about her very normal family. She was right - it wasn't overly dramatic or unusual, but there had been a journey she was forced to take. It hadn't been smooth sailing all the way, and she had endured it beautifully.
As he'd expected, Hinata was strong enough to give freely even without emotional reciprocation. Generous and giving, unafraid of being rejected or mocked at.
In some ways, she was similar to him. From fear, from his father's lack of acknowledgement for him, from the seed of doubt of her capabilities her father had planted in her mind, both of them had struggled to travel the rough and arduous journey, but they'd completed it somehow, and it had landed them where they were today.
She could have made it up, but Gaara knew a liar when he saw one, and Hyuuga Hinata absolutely wasn't lying. He doubted she could lie to him.
The woman had guts that she showed in a different way, and he liked that. Hinata could have taken the easier route - back off from her proposal and let the case rest, even let him persuade her easily with his curt 'no' that he was not going to open up to her. But she'd chosen to tell him about her family to make it fair play. She'd chosen the road less travelled to show she was sincere. She'd earned his respect, and she would have it.
There's nothing to be ashamed or humiliated about. It was a fact that your father didn't acknowledge you. It's a miracle you've been keeping this a secret for so long and now, it's up to you to make peace with it.
Make peace. Something foreign and unfamiliar, but something he could attempt.
"I want to show you something." He said slowly. "I'll bring you to a place after dinner."
Hinata gazed at him and blinked rapidly behind her glasses, her forehead creasing, but he didn't elaborate.
"Okay." She said, looking a little bewildered and cute at the same time. Her face was still red and as she moved to clean her plate, he spoke again.
"A clean slate you say?"
She nodded solemnly, understanding what he meant.
"A clean slate."
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