Pre-note: So, naturally, your question would be: "Where in the world did she go?" Well, I got a permanent job and moved to the capitol city, but fanfic-writing keeps me young at the heart. LOL. Sorry for the year-long delay.
Rated: T, for political themes, sexual issues
Standard disclaimer applies on each and every chapter of this fan fiction series.
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Prime Minister: Uchiha Sasuke
Chapter 9A – It's Complicated (Part I)
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Sasuke craned his neck, rubbing a spot at the back to get rid of the stiffness there. His schedule for the day had just ended—at three in the morning. He pulled off his glasses, sighing tiredly as he checked the contents of his briefcase before stepping down from the limousine.
"The next meeting begins at seven, sir," his blonde aide reminded him at the door of the car.
Sasuke nodded, acknowledging the information. He walked towards the residence, allowing the guard to pull the entrance door open for him. He greeted the guards with the slightest movement of his head. He was so tired he could barely open his eyes the moment he passed the threshold. Safe from any watching eye, he yawned out loud in the dimness of the residence's living room.
He still had a hand over his mouth when he opened up an eye to see Hyuuga Hinata standing at the door of her room, looking at him strangely.
He dropped his hand automatically, his façade tightening in alert. "You're still awake?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in question.
The girl shook her head. "I just woke up." She shrugged lightly. "I thought I heard something outside; it turned out to be you."
Sasuke replied with a mere sound from his throat that sounded like, "Hm." He tugged on the knot of his tie, loosening the loop slightly and undoing the top button of his shirt at the collar. He shrugged out of his suit and hung it carelessly on the back of a chair at the dining table. He felt so tempted to collapse on one of the other chairs and lay his head down for a moment, but he knew better—rather than dozing at the dining table, he could use a proper three-hour slumber on his white fluffy futon instead. He stifled another yawn.
She was still standing there, watching him move around the kitchen like a zombie.
Sasuke eyed her, crossly. He was annoyed that she was witnessing him this way—without composure, without the air of authority he usually held. He huffed. "Go back to sleep." He hadn't intended to bark at her, but it naturally came out in a harsh, irritated tone. He scratched the back of his head rather furiously.
But she smiled at him, her head poking ridiculously out from the tiny gap of her bedroom door and her fingers wrapped about the sides of the pane. "Yes, sir," she said. Then she added in a softer voice, "You should get rest as well, sir." She was still smiling idiotically at him. "Sweet dreams, sir."
"Sweet dreams, Hinata," he replied out of courtesy.
It was only after she had closed her door behind her quietly, that he realized that he had called her by her first name—her name, not her surname, not that infamous household name—unintentionally, but oddly, it didn't feel improper at all. It naturally popped in his mind and slipped through his lips as if he were accustomed to calling her that way. He stood by the dining table, puzzled at his own words.
Perhaps, he was just too tired, he thought, walking towards his own bedroom. After all, it was three in the morning.
Nara Shikamaru could have sworn he had barely shut his eyes for an hour when he heard the doorbell ring. Continuously. He inevitably did swear out loud, muttering spiteful words as he stumbled out of his bed, blindly grasping around for his alarm clock. He opened an eye and peeked at the clock face.
Six o'clock.
AM.
In the morning.
His blasphemous string of words continued, rather mentally than verbally this time. He reached out for his trousers, pulling them on hastily as the doorbell started ringing all over again. He didn't even bother putting on anything on top as he dragged his feet to the foyer of his cramped apartment studio. "Comin'," he mumbled out loud, though he was pretty sure the morning intruder wouldn't hear his drowsy voice anyways.
He didn't bother to check the CCTV screen to see who it was: he figured it was probably the paper boy, or probably the milk delivery. (Wait. Since when did he subscribe for milk?) He furiously rubbed his face with his palms, trying to remove to remnants of his half-sleep while unlatching the lock of the front door.
He turned the knob and yanked the door open just as the intruder went into a doorbell-frenzy again. "I'm here, I'm here," he exclaimed, blindly, before giving a glance at the uninvited guest. His expression immediately changed. "What're you doing here?"
The female intruder brushed her way past him, carrying a fluffy bundle in her arms as she stepped into the foyer. "I left you a message last week. Didn't you get it?" she asked without giving a hint of a greeting. She didn't even seem uncomfortable with the way he was undressed; she merely took a good look at his figure then rolled her eyes, as if expecting the ridiculous state of his morning fashion. She settled down on the front steps, taking off her shoes and letting down the bundle in her arms.
The bundle unwound itself, revealing a toddler, wrapped in a thick jacket and a woolly hat. The kid smiled up at him, eagerly.
"Whoa, you've grown a lot, sport," he grinned back at the kid, ruffling through the kid's unruly brown hair. "How old are you now?"
The kid raised a hand up and spread out all the fingers. "Konohamaru is five!" the kid replied. Then the kid wiggled his eyebrows in curiosity. "How old are you, Dad?"
Shika squatted down to level the kid—his kid. "Dad is…," he purposely took a moment, pretending to count his own fingers before finally lifting a two then an eight. "Twenty-eight."
The kid laughed. "You're younger than Mommy! Mommy is twenty-nine!" He pointed at the lady, who had been watching their interaction with uninterested eyes.
Shika gradually turned to look up at the woman. He let their son wander about the room, busy with his own exuberance to notice the change of the atmosphere. Slowly, Shika straightened up. He got a good glance at the lady's outfit—a tight-fitting trench coat over a blouse and a pencil skirt; her blonde hair bound up tight into a bun—and figured. "You're heading to work." It was intended to be a question, but since the answer was so obvious, the statement fell flat.
"I'm heading to China," she replied, confirming his suspicions. She had always been an ambitious person; an opportunity coming from the world's largest developing business district was something she couldn't miss. Sighing deeply, she took out several items from her traveling bag and set the out onto the table. "This is his formula; he usually drinks his milk before going to bed. His clothes are in this bag. So is his toothbrush. Remember, he's allergic to freshwater fish and clams. His bedtime is eight."
"Whoa." Shika held out his palms in front of himself in defense. "Wait a moment. Why all the sudden?"
There was a pause then a frown. She tilted her head slightly. "You didn't get my message, did you?"
"What message?" asked Shika, thoroughly confused, glancing back and forth between the stuff on his kitchen table and the woman.
"I sent you a text message last week," she explained, rather exasperatedly. "I told you I was going to China and needed you to look after Kon for a week."
Shika groaned, running a hand through his uncombed hair. "I get tons of messages every day; I must've scrolled through." His hand scratched the side of his cheek as he felt the lack of sleep kicking in again. He yawned. "I can't look after him. I've got work."
"Well, so have I," she snapped back at him. She folded her arms, angrily. "Look. I've been working and taking care of him for two whole years. Why can't you do the same for just one week, Shika?"
Shika shifted, reluctantly. He glanced at the kid, who had turned curious towards the conversation, then looked back at the mother. "What am I supposed to do with him while I work?" It was a rather dumb question, but it was the most crucial one too.
"Day care, hire a baby-sitter, preschool," the lady muttered, offering random suggestions to him. She sighed. "Just one week, Shika, one week."
Shika groaned. He raised a hand to scratch the back of neck, his unwillingness obviously showing.
The lady snorted. She had her eyes on Shika's raised hand, on a particular finger. "Funny how you still wear that ring when you don't even give a damn about the only thing we have in common right now," she mentioned in a whisper. Her voice was dripping with lethal venom. "You're such a living irony."
Shika followed her gaze to his own left hand. He lowered the hand as he stared at the single gold band wrapped around his fourth finger. "You know it's not like that," he replied in a low voice. He looked up at the woman who was supposedly his wife.
The woman, in response, raised a finger. "Then one week, Shika. Please." There. She said the magic word. "One week."
Shika hesitated, glancing down at their wedding ring as he pondered on the options. He could bring the kid to the office and let him play with the guards, or perhaps even persuade Naruto into looking after him. But still, the office wasn't a place for toddlers and he knew the office wouldn't provide a proper environment for kids of such age. He looked up at the lady again.
She pressed her palms together in a pleading position, lowering her head just slightly to emphasize the gesture. "Just one week." The way she looked at him nearly broke his heart.
What she could do to him with the slightest hint of tears in her eyes was scary. He sighed. "Alright," he said, tossing his arms up in the air.
Her expression changed instantly. She gave him her signature smile: a suppressed grin, somehow crooked to the right, with her eyes twinkling in satisfied relief. "Thanks," she said, sincerely.
Then she surprised him by stepping forward and leaning towards him, before cupping one side of his cheek and landing a light brush of her lips on the other side. She tapped his cheek lightly as if he were a watch dog and she was saying, "Good job!" to him. The brief contact excited him—and annoyed the hell out of him, at the same time.
She didn't give him any time to react any further. She turned around and picked up her bag as she checked her watch. "Well, I should get going. I have a flight to catch."
Shika merely stood there, blinking in mild confusion. His hand absentmindedly reached for the spot where she touched him. He rubbed the spot oddly, his mind not really registering what just happened.
"Well, see you then." She surprised him again by suddenly excusing herself. She called out to their son, saying her farewells and affectionately giving the little kid a tight hug. She straightened up, giving her jacket a light brushing with her hand then headed towards the front door.
Shika blinked again. He rushed forward, suddenly feeling obliged to see her off.
She was bending down, adjusting her heels into the back of her shoes. Had she gotten slimmer? Shika frowned as he watched her put on her shoes. Her figure seemed pretty much the same as he remembered, but her wrists, he noticed, were just slightly thinner than they used to be. And there were shadows under her eyes, he noticed—something he had never seen on her before.
Shika folded his arms, leaning his head and shoulder onto the wall, as the lady stood up straight again.
"I'll pick Kon up on Tuesday," she informed him curtly, turning to reach for the knob.
But he beat her to it. He stretched out forward, his fingers turning the knob before she could even locate it. He held the door open for her—his bare torso somewhat looming over her as he glanced at her.
It was her turn to blink. The intensity in his eyes made her coil inside. She looked away, swallowing rather visibly.
He lowered his face; close enough for him to whisper into her ear, but not so intimately as to allow them to touch.
Hesitantly, she threw him a questioning glance.
"Take care," he murmured in a low voice.
She bit her bottom lip.
He backed away from her, allowing her to step outside, but not before adding, in an endearing way that only he alone managed to do to her name, "Tem."
She shivered. Not because it was cold outside—indeed, it was rather freezing and it was still very early in the morning—but this chill came from inside of her, causing her to pull the lapels of her coats tighter together as she nodded stiffly. "You, too," she managed to say, pulling away from him completely. "Take good care of Kon for me."
Then she was gone.
He probably stood there at the doorway for more than a minute, clutching onto the wooden panel as he watched her walk down the dimmed hallway and finally disappear into one of the elevators. The moment she vanished out of his sight, he sighed. He glanced over his shoulders, looking at interior of his rundown studio. He spotted Kon, waiting eagerly for breakfast at the kitchen table.
Shika sighed. Suddenly, he wished he could have gone to sleep earlier last night. It was going to be a long week.
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a/n: Well, for ShikaIno shippers, sorry to let you guys down—I'm a ShikaTem sucker. Read and review, everyone! Thanks for sticking to this humble fanfic of mine!