ten

Stealing his father's Cuban cigars was a hobby of his, and every time he passed a box around to his friends, he wondered what his father would say to him when he found out. He was routinely called ungrateful, spoiled, and lazy, and those insults were getting old by now. He wondered what new material his father would come up with this time.

Shikamaru offered a cigar to Sakura, but she refused it with a swift curve of an eyebrow. The rest of his friends accepted the offer, and they filled his mahogany library with smoke. This was how the most expensive forest fires were started.

Neji was sitting in a high back green leather chair acting like he was the emperor looking down on his subjects––Shikamaru rolled his eyes, long used to the drama that came with Hyuga. Neji thought that everything was for sale, and that it must be presented as such: quality, control cognisance. He tapped his cigar on an ashtray––twice––and said, "We've got some problems."

Naruto was yanking his tie off with one hand, and holding his own lit cigar in the other. He looked like a stressed salesman just off work in that moment, and nothing like the son of moguls he really was. He tossed the tie onto the floor in one fluid movement and suddenly became a prodigal son again. His collars were pressed to hard to be anything less. "Define 'problems,'" he said.

"Like, we're probably going to be brutally murdered trouble," Sakura barked from across the room. She had her legs crossed under her, sitting grumpily on one of Shikamaru's goose-feathered couches, with her black cocktail dress bunched up around her thighs. Her pink hair stood out angrily as she huffed, and Shikamaru wondered again show she wiggled her way into this group. Though she stuck out with her piercings, her hair, and her attitude, she added a necessary dynamic to this group: Sakura had street smarts that Shikamaru couldn't figure out where she'd learn it from. After all, weren't all rich kids born with a silver spoon?

"You're being dramatic," Uchiha Sasuke said from his position next to her. He was already halfway through the cigar, smoking like he was trying to die quick. Uchiha, unlike Sakura, looked like he belonged to wealth. Even the way he sat, with his leg crossed and head under chin––a calm sort of confidence––screamed a type of money and elegance that even Shikamaru didn't quite know. If it ever mattered enough to Shikamaru, he would begin to feel inadequate in his own mansion. "––as usual."

Kiba was shaking his head. "What if she's not? What about what...that dude in jail told us?" Kiba was leaning forward, eyebrows drawn tight across his forehead. Like Sakura, Kiba had a wealth that Shikamaru couldn't quite place. It was as if Kiba had stepped into wealth and decided to wear it around his shoulders. It was too big for him, but it kept him warm, so he decided to keep it. Kiba lit his cigar and turned to Shikamaru, and eyebrow raised. "What do you think?"

The boy in question didn't think much. He tried not to do that very often, anyway. The Nara stood next to a window and turned towards the setting sun, tracing the skyscrapers in the distance with his eyes. "The way I see it is, we've gotten several warnings. Not just one. Several, so we should probably act on them."

Sakura was nodding. "One from Ino's dad, one from the...what were they called?"

"The Akatsuki," Neji replied.

"Yeah––one from them, and one from some gangbanger in jail. What more info do we need? It seems to me like every thug in Konoha knows that we're done for. The next action would be to protect ourselves."

Sakura's spiel didn't seem to phase anyone too much. Shikamaru actually yawned. Sasuke rolled his eyes a little.

"All I'm saying is, our protection is dead. That is a fact. And there's no longer anyone out here that has our asses covered," Sakura took the silence as a means to keep going. "You guys have to be smart about this. You're not invincible, you know."

Just then, Neji's phone vibrated against the table. He grabbed it and stood cleany from his chair, brushing invisible dust off of his shoulders. "Well this was fun," he said. "But my father needs me for some business out there."

Sakura sat up, "We need to talk about this––"

"This isn't the right time or place, anyway, Haruno," he said stoically.

"Oh I get it," Sakura said haughtily, getting up and walking over to Neji. She pointed a finger at his chest. "You don't want to talk about it right now because you're scared. We're all fucking scared! That's why we need to––"

"Oh, give it up for now," Neji said moving her hand with a delicate flicking motion that would've seemed girly if it had come from anyone but him. "There's nothing we can do at this moment, and you're throwing a fit."

The rest of the group watched him sidestep her and duck out of the room, moving with the grace of all his Hyuga blood in his feet.

Sakura's face was turning a similar color to her hair. She tightened her fists, "What's his problem?"

"Some of us have strict parents," Kiba shrugged. "Neji's under a lot of pressure right now. Hiashi's been training him to take over the company."

"Besides," Sasuke extinguished his cigar. "He was right. This isn't the time to discuss this. Who knows who might be listening. Have you never had your parents wiretap a room?"

Sakura blanched, her eyebrows raising to her hairline, "No?"

"Huh," even Shikamaru looked surprised. "You're one of the lucky ones, then. Our parents don't believe in privacy, but they're not very good at keeping up with us. Wiretapping can be easier than asking question," Shikamaru went to take a sip out his glass before realizing it was empty. He sighed. "––troublesome, I'm out of whisky. I'm going back in, wish me luck."

With that, he rose from his chair and went out the same door Neji had just exited through minutes earlier. A chorus of "good luck"s followed him, but he gave no response.

Sakura huffed to herself. It looked like no one was going to back her up on this. This is what she gets for being the only girl on a team of masculine trust fund kids. She was the only one with common sense, it seemed. Definitely the only one with any street smarts.

"Will Shizune be looking for you?" Naruto asked. He smiled his big wide smile and blinked his blue eyes down at her. Sakura gave a long sigh. "She came in Tsunade's place, right?"

"Mhm," Sakura hummed. "Tsunade is in the far away land of Korea. Shizune won't bother me because she knows I'm being good. Some of our guardians trust us."

"Yeah, yeah New Money," Naruto laughed in a way that sounded like it hurt. "I just wanted to ask if you wanted to smoke with us."

"I'm out." Sasuke said. His eyes had caught something interesting moving in the doorway, and he was interesting in following.

"You're out?" Kiba echoed. "Since when do you pass on a blunt?"

"Since now," said the Uchiha. He straightened his suit jacket and slipped his phone into his back pocket. "I'll see you guys later."

"Where the hell are you going?" Naruto demanded.

But Sasuke didn't' answer. He was already stepping out the door.

"So much for my fucking meeting," Sakura grumbled to the two that were left. Kiba and Naruto were useless without the rest of them. "Let's just go smoke."

"Language Sakura!" Naruto chidded. "I swear New Money has no manners. Wouldn't you agree that our lady Haruno-san could use some lessons in etiquette, Kiba-sama?"

Kiba looked Sakura over and frown. "Fucking right, Naruto-sama"

"I can't believe I'm always stuck with you two," Sakura sighed.

-:-

Powerful men had powerful conversation over powerful brown drinks. Expensive whiskies held in powerful hands––watches snagged tight across wrists that yelled "time is money!" when they beeped, or when a notification flashed across the screen. But tonight, they flicked the messages away like they were flies. Powerful laughter bloomed instead and bubbled out the mouths of Konoha's elite. This night was about power, yes, but also about making connections.

Hinata never understood these charity events. She never understand the Armani suits, and the way heads of powerful men bent to huddle together in secret conversation. If this was about donating money, how come everyone treated it like one big business venture? Shouldn't they have invited the people they were donating to?

Hinata shook her head looking down at herself, her own outfit could've fed a family of six a few times over. The navy blue bodice squeezed tightly around her chest, it's crystals glistening against the overhead chandeliers. Wispy fabrics fell down to her toes, and her feet were contained in a pair of strappy shoes that had been laid out for her by a stylist her father had hired.

The stylist had been dressing Hinata, and sometimes Hanabi, for every ball and big event since their mother had passed eight years ago. Hiashi had seen that Hinata did not know how to present herself, and did not want her strutting around embarrassing him. He didn't have time for it. Hinata was a Hyuga, and she needed to look like it.

So she learned to walk in heels, and learned to wear constricting clothing and extravagant hairstyles. At least her father let her dress how she wanted when they weren't at some bougie event. She could hide in her own, more comfortable, clothing outside of moments like this.

"We've got at least three more hours of this," said Hanabi, who usually enjoys events like this, or at least, pretends to. The dresses were exciting to her, at least. But today her tight lilac dress wasn't doing it for her. The collar was turtleneck style, and she kept tugging at it with a manicured nail.

"Don't remind me," Hinata responded, also adjusting the collar of her dress. It fit tightly across her collar bones. "Y-you usually enjoy these events. What's up with you?"

Hanabi tossed her head, smiling snidely. "I'm meeting up with Konohamaru after. We've got...plans."

Hinata felt her face flame up. "H-Hanabi!" She reprimanded. "Y-you're only 15! W-what are you talking about?"

Hanabi smiled coyly. "Relx, big sis. We're just going to a party." She turned her head to the left, and Hinata followed her gaze.

Konohamaru was standing across the room talking to his politician parents and their friends. When he noticed Hanabi and Hinata starring, he winked.

"Ugh," Hanabi sighed. "Dad would kill me if he saw us talking. I just want to hang out with him."

Hinata rubbed Hanabi's back. She was pouting that was she always did, with her arms crossed tight over her chest. Hiashi didn't allow his girls to hang out with a lot of people––he had a lot of grudges.

Across the room, Hinata watched Hiashi introduce his cherished son to a couple of businessmen. Neji had his hair slicked back into a long ponytail that rested on his back. He was smiling and shaking hands before Naruto cut in, tapped Neji on the shoulder, and skillfully excused the both of them. Hinata sighed again, it was easy for boys. Their fathers always thought of them all miniatures of themselves––boys could do no wrong.

Neji and Naruto quickly escaped the banquet room, probably to join the rest of their friends elsewhere. Hinata almost felt jealous.

"Wanna try to steal some champagne?" Hanabi asked, nudging Hinata in the ribs.

"Nah," Hinata answered. She was beginning to feel anxious with all the people around her. Though she wasn't the most important of the Hyuga children, people were always looking at her, making sure that she was behaving and acting The Hyuga Way.

"Boring," Hanabi huffed. She opened her phone and began to examine herself with its front camera. "I'm tired of standing here being a wall ornament. Don't you want to do something fun?"

Hinata could understand Hanabi's dissatisfaction, but she felt anxiety crawling down her throat, and it was making it hard for her to speak. After all, her father and a couple of guests turned to stare at them, and her father's eyebrow creased in a way that she knew meant trouble later. What could she have possibly done wrong? She had simply been standing.

Was there anything she could do right? Hinata's hands began to twist, endlessly, in front of her. They were so white and delicate they looked like twin doves fluttering in front of her navy gown. Ugh. She was getting more anxious by the second. Hinata hid her hands behind her back, and leaned against them on the wall. No more fighting. It's unattractive, her father says.

Hanabi smacked her lips and slipped her phone into a purse, not noticing Hinata's distress. She shoved off the wall, and smoothed her lilac dress down her legs. "Okay," she said confidently. "Konohamaru told me to meet him on the third floor balcony. He says he has a joint he's been waiting to smoke all night." Hanabi looked up at her sister, her white eyes full of excitement. "Do you wanna join?"

Hinata shook her head feebly not wanting to ruin her sisters date, or whatever. Besides, it seemed pathetic to smoke with a pair of 15-year olds who were more ballsy than her. It would just make her feel worse.

"No, no," Hinata said. "I don't feel well. I think I'll just go find somewhere to sit and relax."

"Suit yourself," Hanabi responded, already ten steps from Hinata. Hinata had a feeling that Hanabi hadn't counted on her saying yes anyway.

Once Hanabi was out of sight and around the corner, Hinata sighed heavily. These parties were the bane of her existence. There was certainly no worse hell than this.

It's alright, the Hyuga thought to herself. I'll find a table and write until father says it's time to leave. Hinata sat down in a table the furthest from the dance floor, and rooted around in her bag for her journal and a pen. When she unzipped her pencil case, she was surprised to find four oval-shaped pills winking at her from between a pair of mint-green mechanical pencils.

"Oh," she whispered to herself. These were the pills the Uchiha had given her at lunch a few days ago. Hinata held one discreetly in her palm, weighing it, surveying it.

Well, I am pretty anxious, she thought to herself. And no one is paying any attention to me anyway.

Hanabi is doing drugs too, she thought.

And father won't notice I'm gone. He never has.

Maybe this will help me calm down.

Maybe I'll be able to stand this.

Before she knew it, Hinata was scooping the pill into her mouth and washing it down with the lemonade she'd been holding for most of the night. She packs her bag back with her journal and hurries out of the banquet hall, hoping that no one had seen her.

By the time she found a quiet place inside of a study, her eyes were already beginning to feel heavy, and her limbs felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds. She curled her body into a leather office chair and rode the wave.

Better, she thought.

-:-

Sasuke's vision had not lied to him. It was Hinata Hyuga who had floated down the hall and away from him like a ghost that haunted the Nara's mansions.

He found her curled up on a chair like cat. Her ankles were crossed under her, her dress pulled up in a bunch at her thighs. Her head was cradled under the palm of her hand and her eyelids looked heavy. Her eyes looked like they were barely open, but Sasuke could see some life happening somewhere in there.

He stood in front of her chair for a good minute and a half, taking in this image of her. She's like a cat, he thought, shaking his head. Wisps of hair were starting to fall from its high bun and lay across her face, but she didn't seem to care enough to fix it.

"You're fucking xanned out, aren't you?"

Hinata jumped before seeming to sink even deeper into the couch. She shut her eyes tight, and curled into an even tighter ball.

"I can still see you, you know." The Uchiha said. He took a seat in the leather chair across from her, watching long eyelashes flutter open and closed. It was like she was checking to see if he were still there. "Still here," he deadpanned.

"Why did you give me this?" Her voice slurred to a long whisper that floated around him before settling on his shoulder blades.

"Why did you take it?" Sasuke responded.