26

"Hello Hinata," Naruto said, as he stood across from her at the dinner table. His parents flanked his sides like protective guardians, a hand on each of his shoulders, guiding him towards the light.

She understood herself to be the light in this situation. She swallowed painfully. She felt like everyone was looking at her. Suddenly, Neji's swift exit seemed even more like an insult––her twin had left her there to swelter in the blistering heat of other people's commitments. What decisions of her own had led her to this place?

Her father, a pinched brow and a tight smile, stood to welcome the Uzumaki's to their table. As if pulled by invisible pieces of string, Hinata stood with him, bowing her head deeply to show them her earnest respect. What they could not see: a frown etching its way across her lips, frown-lines hidden inside of her bangs, and a clenched fist tight around the skirt of her dress.

"H-hello Naruto," she replied, because that is what they all wanted her to do. That was the only thing that would be allowed. She sat back down in her seat, where the spotlight shown on the top of her ponytail, all the light pooling into the pink of her cheeks.

She thought back to their last meeting, tucked away in the hospital room, Naruto a silent witness to her tears, her frustration, her agony. She thought of how frail and sad he looked, hooked up to wires with his arm casted, ribs wrapped, eyes blackened. A mess of a person who stunk of his own insecurities. He had fixed his face to say I'm sorry but never meant it the way she needed it to. She was in love with him. Seeing him that way broke something in her. And now he was sitting across from her, at her mother's favorite restaurant, smiling at her.

Her phone vibrated from its hidden place under her thigh. Its presence at the dinner table was a worthy distraction that sent her stomach into intricate twists, Sasuke. He said: So...tonight? You never said anything. Her navel felt tight like it had never been before. Between the pauses where the Uzumaki's ordered their drinks to the table, she responded swiftly, eagerly: Yes.

To be wanted, genuinely and without gain, was a feeling like no other.

-:-

It had just started raining. Sakura watched the drops congeal on the windshield, big drops falling into resting ones, and sending them sliding down out of view. Ino appeared like that: a giant swoop into her vehicle, a hysterical hiccup in her voice, and a wail.

Sakura sent her car shooting forward, its sleek black metal pushing forward into the night without pause. They sat in silence for a while, Sakura letting the hum of the engine fill the quiet. When they finally stopped, after six minutes of green lights, Sakura turned to her best friend and asked, "What happened, Ino?"

Ino shook her head. Her face was a fissure. A crack. What was a break? What was bone? What was next? It was all red and wrong.

"You have to tell me what happened, pig," Sakura tried again, flexing her fingers across her steering wheel. The night zoomed passed as she eased her foot off of the break and onto the gas. Sakura knew where to go, didn't have to be asked.

"I was leaving Shikamaru's this morning," Ino said quietly, as Sakura's corvette seemed to purr around a corner. Going east and moving fast. "He snuck me out the back––the maid's exist. I ran through the gardens like a thief in the night. You've been to the Nara estate, their grounds are like whole entire ecosystems, other worlds. I slipped around the massive pool and out a back gate. The whole time, I kept thinking about the last thing he said to me; 'Ino, I'm scared of everything'

and I always wonder what there is to be so scared of. He will never be poor. He will never be without. Why is it so hard for him to want what he is asked of? Why does he have to want me?"

"Ino, what––"

"Today was supposed to be about me, you know Sakura? It was supposed to be about my big debut, my photoshoot. I'm supposed to start blossoming today," and Ino eclipsed into a pile of sobs, her tears big enough to monsoon Sakura's car, but she kept them afloat. "Instead, I am thrust out of an estate like I am garbage, and a rich boy tells me that he's scared. He calls me an uber once the coast is clear, and I sit in the back opening my phone to headlines. Tabloids. I am lessened to nothing but a dark night at a club, my swimsuit body, my face like hers."

Sakura pulled the car to a stop. Her car sat up-high on a hill, where she and Ino used to come, once on bikes, now in expensive vehicles, when they needed to escape the world. Below them, the ocean spread out at their fingertips. Sakura woke up the courage to say, "Can I see the articles?"

The first one was not so bad. It was a blurry photo of Ino and Shikamaru, holding hands in the night. They look almost-sober and the picture of young beauty. Ino wearing a strappy top and bright skirt, Shikamaru dressed in all black: like mirrors. Their faces were close together, like they had just finished telling each other secrets. The headline read: WHO IS INO YAMANAKA? THE MODEL WHO STOLE THE NARA HEIR'S HEART

It was the second one that left a funny taste in Sakura's mouth. Ino's recent photoshoot spread out across the account of a tabloid Twitter feed, calling her all types of names––the most digestible one being "golddigger."

Then Ino took her phone and told Sakura "look." She pointed, her eyes wild with fear, at photo after photo. Photos of her and Shikamaru lying in Union Park, their legs intertwined, photos of her in her Moriyama Prep uniform with her tongue sticking out, photos of her lifting the edges of her skirt, flashing someone off camera. Sakura remembered that one because she had taken it––it was supposed to be a joke between the two.

The campaign Ino had just modeled for had gotten hundreds of thousands of views with comments of all variety. People called her beautiful. People called her ugly. People called her a slut. People called her honest. People called her a nobody. People called her skinny. People called her fat. But no one said a single thing about Nara Shikamaru, the poor boy who was so scared.

"That's not all," Ino sobbed, her fingers took her phone back and threw it into the back seat as if trying to erase the device from existence. "I fucking love him, Sakura!"

She should've known from the start. Sakura pulled Ino's hair out from in front of her face as she vomited outside of her car.

-:-

Anko greeted them behind the counter, smiling like it was funny. She'd spruced up the uniform to her liking––unbuttoning the top two buttons of the collared shirt and wearing a khaki mini skirt instead of pants. She stepped out from behind the counter to greet them, and you could see her knee-high boots. She leaned forward, pumping her chest out to show her name tag: Mikki

"Welcome to Mikki's donuts, I'm Mikki. How can I help you dolls?"

Tenten grimaced. Her half-sister loved a good bit, but Tenten didn't have time for it. She didn't come for Anko's amusement. She came because she was being forced. "Do you always work here?"

Anko quirked her head to the side, a sly smile stretching across from her heavily lined and lipstickked lips, "Now what type of question is that? Of course not. I just wanted to see my baby sis getting involved with the family business, is all."

Anko was criminally insane. Neji was stuck in place, hovering in the doorway like he was still deciding if that was where he was supposed to be. He was. Tenten was once again reminded of how ill-fitted Neji was to be the one doing such activities, but that's what made him an easy target. Tenten would have to be the one to do the work. As usual.

The donut shop was a bright light in the middle of an otherwise empty stripmall at this time of night. Next door was a post office, and next to that, a nail salon. In the window, a green neon sign advertised 24/7 coffee.

"So what?" Tenten was angry. "Us coming here was for show? Another little bit of yours? We couldn't have just gone where we were before?"

Anko scoffed and straightened her back once she noticed that Neji was too scared to look at her. "Of course not, my dear. This is your headquarters from now on. You'll report to a guy named Sai. Too much movement at the apartment is a liability." The bell above the door jingled. New people have come. "Now whatdya want, cutie?"

She felt Neji's whole body stiffen as she turned her head to look at the new customers. A guy with gray hair and an eyepatch and some scruffy dude with a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth. Middle-aged gamers, she thought, with bad timing.

"A vanilla frosted," Tenten grumbled, pulling a single bill out of her pocket and sliding it across the counter. She inclined her head towards Neji, "make it two. Long johns, please."

Neji, with his fingers fucking trembling, stopped the bill from entering Anko's grip. Instead, he slid his black card across the counter, handed Tenten her money back and said, "Miss, can you add a frappuccino to that? Almond milk, half foam, no whip with three shots of espresso, two shots of caramel. Also..." he angled his head and Tenten fluttered her eyes to the new guys again. They had pretty intense energies...despite being nobodies. "Where's the bathroom?"

Anko made a face at the order––one that said she had no idea how to make it, and it would take her a long time, but it was time that they needed. As Neji sauntered off to the seedy bathroom in the corner, the grey-haired one ordered a black coffee while the cigarette one bent over to tie his shoe. In the split second between lifting his pant leg and stretching the strings of his boots, Tenten noticed the metal of a gun.

Tenten looked towards the bathroom door, a small appreciation growing in her belly. Neji had known these cops, and had had the good sense to avoid them.

-:-

It was right after the third course, during coffee and before desert, that Minato tensed in his seat, nodded to Hiashi, and cleared his throat.

Hinata, for what it's worth, kept her head down during most of the dinner, and had no inklings to what announcement would be made. She had barely said more than three sentences. These were "Yes, I'm enjoying my classes, thank you for asking Kushina-san." "Can you please pass the salt, Hanabi?" and "No, I'm not sure what I will study in University next year, Minato-san."

If anyone had noticed the tension, they did not say anything about it. Instead, her father steamrolled her, laughing without humor, talking to the Uzumaki's about how Hinata would be going into business, of course. Or maybe pre-law. And he supposed a Hyuga doctor would do, but it wasn't really preferred––they weren't in the business of taking care of others.

Hanabi carried the conversations on her shoulders, dipping her fork in different plates, eating pleasantly as if she knew her chatter would rescue Hinata from having to look at her betrothed. She chatted endlessly about the bounty of activities she did––chess club or tennis practice on Monday nights, debate team on Tuesdays right after school, Wednesday was for rest ("or socializing"), and Thursday was study group followed by piano lesson. On Fridays, Hanabi campaigned with her friends, because there was an election, you know, and she was running for class president. She smiled cheekily, "Any tips, Uzumaki-san? With you running for Hokage 'n all?"

Hinata appreciated her sister's brilliance. It didn't matter, anyway, because Hinata was the one being married off. It was silly to think that the Uzumakis would care any about her accomplishments when they were so invested in her pedigree. Her position was one of the bests––a second daughter, but not the last one. Unassuming, but "quite pretty" Kushina had said after they hugged. A "homemaker," Minato suggested, as he watched her pour and serve everyone their tea. "Like your mother?" he had asked, testing the waters. It was inappropriate, but the Uzumaki's always were.

"Not quite," Hinata said quietly, and then said nothing else.

Hiashi changed the subject. Business was the loudest one. Money talks, blah blah blah. Hinata avoided Naruto's gaze as she buttered bread. Every once in a while, she would dip her head and reply to a text from his best friend and fight the blush that threatened her cheeks.

Mianto cleared his throat after the waiters had whisked away their plates. "Thank you for joining us for dinner," he said. "I am excited for the many more dinners ahead of us as we continue to get to know each other. Eventually, we will all be family, and this will feel as natural as day and night."

Kushina smiled, and Minato placed a hand atop her pregnant belly. Naruto shifted uncomfortably beside his father, but Hinata pretended not to notice. She had decided that she was done noticing things about him a long time ago.

"I especially want to thank you, Hiashi, for agreeing to meet despite such...disagreeable circumstances, and for giving my boy here a second chance." Minato patted Naruto on the shoulder, who again shifted uncomfortably. "I know it could not have been easy for you. Naruto has not been the best role model, and I'm sure Hinata has many prospects that are much more well-behaved than my son is. For that, we are grateful for your patience, your trust, and for your word."

Hiashi nodded sternly, his eyes flat and serious, the way they always were when he was about to close on a very, very, expensive deal. Hinata felt her stomach do twists, flips-flops, inside of her. They were talking about her like she wasn't even in the room. Her chest felt heavy and tight. This new feeling was coming up again. The rage. She wanted to run. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to scream. Hiashi did not trust these people, but he surely trusted their money.

Minato was to be the new Hokage, they all knew he would win. What did Hiashi have to lose but a daughter?

Under the table, Hinata felt her fingers tremble over the keyboard as water filled her eyes. Stupidly, maybe, she followed up with Sasuke: Can we go for a drive?

"We know that this last month has been rather difficult for the both of us," Hiashi said, bringing his glass of whisky to his lips. "And the media is full of piranhas, we both need this story gone. It's terrible for the market. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. All those lost investments, I'm sure, Minato"

Again, Naruto shifted. He tried to make eye contact with her, but Hinata kept her head down.

Minato looked pained. "You should be asking Kushina about that," he said. "I sold my shares."

"Right," Hiashi said after a beat. "You are running for office."

More silence. Even Hanabi looked uncomfortable.

"The Uzumaki business is a separate enterprise," Kushina stepped into the conversation with a certain curve to her ruby-dyed lips. "I step into my role as chairwoman after the baby is born."

"Sounds quite trying," Hiashi said tightly, "Motherhood and running a conglomerate..."

"And a wedding," Kushina said, smiling brightly. "You men, how you like to talk in circles over dinner. Let us discuss what we came here for. Hiashi, you would do well to check your biases, I am as good a business woman as I am a wedding planner, as I am a mother, and as I am a multitasker. And I can stay on topic. Hinata," Kushina turned to her, her eyes calm and kind. The kindest eyes of the evening. "How are you feeling, tonight?"

No one had asked her that. She gulped with what she thought was the right answer, "I'm great, Kushina-san, thank you for asking. The food was lovely."

Kushina smiled without joy––it didn't reach her eyes. "I am so glad." She turned to her husband, then her son, then Hiashi, then back to Hinata. "I am going to stop these old men from wasting more of our time. Hinata, Naruto darling, we called this meeting because we are having something like an emergency with the media––we need to turn this around, and quickly. On Monday, we announce your engagement to the public. Because of this, you two must act like you are in love."

Hinata felt the edges of the room flutter out of focus. She stood abruptly, causing her tea cup to tip over and her chair to make a harsh shrieking sound against the floor. She held her hand in her head, No no no no, she thought with sudden panic. This was not supposed to happen. Not until I was 21 at least, not until after college. No no no no no no

Outloud she said, "P-please excuse m-me. I have to go to the restroom."

Everyone at the table stared at her. Hanabi moved to get up with her, but Hinata stopped her with a firm hand. Even Naruto stood up from his seat for a moment.

Hinata turned quickly, walking out of the private room, and into the hallway. She leaned against the wall just to get some oxygen back into her body when her phone vibrated again. Sasuke. Send me your location.