Breathless, Too
One cold evening in December, a strange cloaked woman asked the girl:
"Do you wish to know the future?"
Swaddled in layers, a red knitted scarf wrapped around her neck, choking her tiny face, the girl, a student of the well-known Hinokuni Fashion College, only hoped to see the snow.
She wasn't used to the cold. In her remote, small village, the skies are clear most of the year. Sea breeze scented the air. Silver grass, rice, wheat, and bamboo bent to the wind.
Much to her disappointment, it wouldn't snow in Tokyo that year.
As if her dreams weren't dashed enough, she was always to and fro running errands, buying beer and street foods while her friends hang out at a nearby skate park. She wasn't raking enough high marks to make it to the top of her class and was constantly tired balancing her studies and a part-time job at Ayame's Ichiraku for free food and lodging. She also missed everyone in her village.
"P-pardon me, Ma'am..." Though she sighed tiredly, the girl kept a smile. "I'm in a rush. Pardon." This must be one of those cult scams her friends had warned her about.
She took a step the other way around, careful of the dozen food boxes and canned drinks she carried from swinging too much. But the cloaked woman persisted and blocked her way.
"I can make your dreams come true," said the woman.
When she pushed back the hood on her cloak, the girl couldn't believe her eyes. Terrified, she dropped her plastic bags, her knees buckling, unable to speak or squeak a stutter.
"New doors will open. Life here will be different," said the woman. "And Sasuke... will be yours."
I. The Prince on a Forsche
Hinokuni's annual networking conference for its graduating students is a week-long event. Then after the formalities, the students will spend the rest of the night on a party cruise at Tokyo bay.
For the closing ceremony and gala dinner, they made her wear heels, tore her out of her used things, and got her into a black, silk C. Strombolian dress: form-fitting, off-shoulder long sleeves, plunging v neckline bursting her cleavage, and a skirt that barely reached mid-thigh - on poor Hinata.
"B-But why?"
Ino grabbed a firmer hold of her jaw to keep her still as she applied red lipstick. "Shut it. We don't have time."
Karin kneaded fragrant mousse on her long hair that reached her lower back. "Have you seen how Mr. Otsutsuki was looking at you... Like the whole time? The entire week?"
"L-like during the lectures? But that was because I asked him questions and-"
"Girl, I know you're dense, but do you have any clue how hard it is to get to Boutiqlo?" said Tenten, about done drying Hinata's nails. "Last year, thousands applied, and you know how many got in? Three. One of them was Ajisai Senpai. He double majored in Merchandising and Fashion Product Development, and Marketing Management, and graduated top of his class. I was expecting Jugo Senpai from our department, at least. And you know what I found? Research. Mr. Otsutsuki was interested in yours. The same thing happened with Ajisai Senpai last year is what I heard."
"B-boutiqlo? B-but I haven't made plans yet. I..."
"Sure you can think that way. You're top of the class."
The girls dragged her to the full-length mirror in their hotel room. Who Hinata saw, staring back at her with her father's eyes and her mother's face shape, was someone she didn't know.
"You're exploding hot! You're a bomb! A volcano!" Ino excitedly squeezed her bare shoulders. "You should dress up like this more often!"
Tenten folded her arms, assessing her from head to toe. "Do us proud."
Hinata began feeling clammy in her fingers. Her heart thumping hard, her knees wobbling. She might faint.
"We'll back you up. So don't mess up and embarrass yourself," said Karin. "Remember, it's simple: compliment him, go along with what he's saying, let him do whatever he wants to do. Okay? You're a doll for the night. Who knows, this might lead to better things for your future. But with his rumored love for women, I wouldn't be into it so much. Still, it's something to perk you up."
"I-I don't..."
"Don't oppose. Seriously, the least you can do is trust us. Haven't you learned anything in the years we've been friends? Seriously."
"But-"
"I don't get your apprehension. He's Boutiqlo heir, you're single and available-"
"B-but-"
"What? Do you have a boyfriend we don't know about?"
Hinata only stayed silent.
"You shut yourself off, you're not growing, you're missing out on too many opportunities to be successful and knowledgeable about the world. So believe me when I say, don't oppose this. It's good for you."
When Hinata looked close to tears, Ino gave her a hug. "Oh, I'm sure you'll do great. If you can't do it for yourself, do it for us. You love us, don't you? You always put us first. I really want all of us to get into Boutiqlo. Put in a good word for us, okay? Pretty please?"
Oh, it embarrassed her to be ogled. Blood rose to her head. Heat stung at her cheeks at her classmates' collective jaw-drop, gazes vetting her details.
Because she acquiesces to her friends, it completely passes over their heads that a girl like her would have a secret desire or two.
She longed to escape, to be rescued. But he wasn't there.
Sasuke. He didn't attend the networking conference. He wasn't the type to think this was necessary. And he wasn't the type to attend parties, either.
Still, she hoped he'd come through the gathering hall's doors. Then people would fall silent - he is quite popular. He would not need to wear anything fancy at all. Just his regular working clothes, shirt and denim, or perhaps his black tracksuit after a run, sweat lining the sides of his face, dripping the porcelain tip of his nose and along his neck. Then, he'd find her... shock Tenten, Ino, and Karin why he'd stop in front of them. With a curl of distaste in his mouth, he'd say "What the hell are you wearing?" Then he'd take off his jacket, grab her by the wrist, and with just the sheer force of his arm, make her stand. Then he'd put it on her, clothing her with his scent, and drag her out wordlessly. She would barely be able to keep up, but she would see his back, wet with sweat, the protruding bones there seeming to have been remnants of wings cut off, or perhaps the beginnings of a growing pair, visibly bare.
Reality comprised the girls enforcing their plan for the evening, dragging her into Toneri's table. He looked happy to see her and politely complimented her appearance as he elegantly drank champagne, looking every bit of a prince described in fairy tale books with his white hair, blue eyes, and sparkly skin.
After the school head's closing remarks, the students began to exit the hall to get to the buses in the parking lot commissioned to take them to Harumi Terminal at Tokyo Bay area. Before she could get out, absently rubbing her heels where her sandal straps dug and blistered under the table, Toneri invited them to his yacht.
He switched his Forsche Carrera GT for a limousine, and they all got together in one car. On the road, the girls teased and touted leaving the two of them alone so she and Toneri could act on this palpable chemistry between them.
Toneri was amused; Hinata? Preparing to blow up, for her guts to spew all over Toneri's limo, her blood to be absorbed into the cushiony seats.
"Oh please, there's no need to hide your interest in our dear Hinata," said Ino, "Guess I'll earn my keep then. I'll tell you everything about her. Every time we go out, she doesn't drink, she doesn't want to do the pocky game. She's super boring. That's why she ends up with all sorts of weird dares and being a lackey. But if it's with you, Mr. Otsutsuki, she just might do it..."
Then the girls started talking about Hinata's mishaps, each sharing their entertaining versions.
When they arrived at the port, the colossal size of Toneri's sea vessel set Hinata back on her heels. A five-deck superyacht with a helipad and a pool all to a single person. Inside, well-groomed uniformed staff greeted them, the floors gleamed with their reflections, the lightings and paintings seeming to hail straight out of a luxurious movie set.
"You didn't tell us this was a pool party. We're not dressed up for this." Ino, foxily eyed Toneri's handsome, accomplished friends lounged at the bar by the pool.
"Don't worry, we always have our guests covered."
A female staff led the girls to a ladies' wardrobe. Her friends freaked out, swooning at Toneri's extensive collection of designer swimwear, robes, accessories, lingerie, and evening gowns.
"How about Ms. Hyuuga? Found anything you like?" asked the staff.
"I... I..." Hinata bit her lip, fiddling with her fingers. "I badly want to use the toilet."
Lying was bad. But she didn't know what else to do.
Breathless and about to faint, she took slow careful breaths, her back flat against the toilet door, completely isolating her.
She thought about what her parents might have done, what Hanabi, elder brother Itachi, and elder brother Neji would have done. What Sasuke would've done. But to no avail. They won't find themselves in this situation.
Tenten knocked.
"What's taking you so long?"
Hinata shuddered.
"I was thinking Marilyn Monroe meets seductive Yamato Nadeshiko beauty so I got this white bikini for you. Rich-man eyeballs will surely fall off."
"I'm not yet done," answered Hinata. "It must've been that truffle cream pasta. I've never had it before." She then groaned for effect.
How spontaneously she could think up lies! She was fast becoming nervous of herself.
"Well, sucks to have a country girl's stomach like yours. I'm leaving your bikini by the sink. Hurry."
After Tenten left, Hinata slipped out of the toilet and found a way up.
The first time she won against Neji in hide-and-seek was when she climbed up a tree. It gave vantage point, a sense of control, a certain solace in being alone while feeling protected.
The stairs ended at the floor leading to the helipad. She floundered the first few steps, her smallness across the grand expanse messing with her sense of balance.
Staring across the horizon at the endless sea as she nursed her sore heels, at the light of the boats flashing in the distance, she thought about Itachi, how wonderful it must be if he were in one of those boats heading for the ports of Japan, how Sasuke would be secretly delighted about that news.
"Hey. So you were here."
Startled, Hinata slowly looked over her shoulder. Toneri had brought her a first aid kit.
"Not a party person?"
"..."
"Me too. I'd rather be at home now playing games or sleeping." He grabbed her right foot.
"Ah! No, p-please don't, Mr. Otsutsuki." Hinata tried to pull back, but Toneri held her firmly by the ankle.
"Scared of a little pain?"
He opened the kit took out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, smeared the pungent liquid on a cotton pad, and dabbed it lightly on the reddish, grazed spot at the back of her heel then the other.
Hinata flinched. Her leg jerked. "Nnn..."
"You don't strike me as the type," he said, smiling. "Not someone like you who painstakingly looked into the feasibility of a system that integrates food waste and sustainable fashion... Hinokuni's looking into enforcing your method in Shibuya Area, aren't they? And please, call me Toneri."
Such attention he poured into patching her up. Like a seamster running a delicate stitch along a narrow hem, he propped her feet on his thigh and hunched over to apply the ointment, gently with his forefinger.
She thought him a kind man, the sort she can speak candidly with.
"That wasn't all me..." she began.
She took the opportunity to talk about her friends, promoting their merits and contributions, adding a healthy pinch of exaggeration to carry out the mission they gave her.
"... so, won't you let them work for you?"
Toneri hummed. "That depends..." he said, occupied with putting band-aids on the back of her heels. "You're working very hard for others, I noticed. Even coming here when you didn't really want to."
"T-that's not true." Hinata had almost bit her tongue.
"If you'll work for me, I'll let your friends in. Consider that a promise."
Toneri slid in next to her, holding out his pinky finger to swear on it. He moved too close. Their shoulders touched, Toneri's heat and muscle permeating her bare skin.
She could smell his fragrance. Something of luscious fruits, resin, wood, spice, wasps, and cigarettes. All those things together and altogether not, settling into an intense, warm, heavy flavor at the base of her throat. It lures yet tinged with a sense of danger.
Hinata gulped, deliberating in her head if it would be rude to scoot over and leave a few good inches between them.
A powerful gust of wind blew over, tousling her hair. She yelped, scrambling over the knotted strands of her hair netting her face, while laughter seized Toneri. He tucked a portion of hair behind her ear and kissed her on the cheek.
"You're so adorable."
Her heart skipped a beat; heat scorched her face. Hinata yawned reflexively.
"Am I boring you?" Toneri pulled a face.
"I-it's past my bedtime... What I meant was, it's past my bedtime so I yawned. Not because I was bored or anything like that. C-Can we go back to land now?"
"No, not until the morning," said Toneri. "You spend the night here."
He led her to a spacious room with a king-sized bed and princess curtains.
"Call me if you ever need anything. Use that intercom over there. Kaguya will answer you and she'll tell me..." He sweetly smiled. "Good night."
"G-good night."
A few minutes after Toneri left, the broad expanse of the room urged Hinata to lock the doors. She couldn't sleep, hands clasped in prayer for a petition she couldn't put into words.