family affair

ten:

tiger's jaw

Things began to happen very quickly after the Akatsuki club had been taken over and then set on fire. Though it had only been a few days, Uncles and Aunties of the Syndicate appeared in and out of the Estate as if pushed through by a revolving door.

Hinata had to deal with the bulk of the greeting and organizing, while also sitting in on meetings per her father's request. The hallway outside of the Affair room was, at times, full of shoes and coats. If she were to step out into the interior garden, she could smell the spicy scent of her father's cigar smoke floating through the paper doors.

Shenji was stationed at the front at almost all hours of the day, while Sasuke took the rear and occasionally sat in the back of the Affair room. His position was transitional: wherever he was needed, but mostly, he was additional security to her father.

When Hinata got a break between meetings, tattooing, and sleeping, she would sneak to the front of the Estate and leave Shenji small plates of food: a peeled orange here, a slice of lemon bread there, a cup of steaming green tea for the cold and late nights.

He slowly began to understand these gestures for something more than mere comradery Slower than she thought. Once, at midnight, when she stepped outside to share a joint with him, he told her a story about the first time he'd smoked weed and had become so anxious that life was a simulation that he jumped into a nearly-frozen lake nearby to "shock my system to restart."

It only resulted in hypothermia. They laughed quietly with their shoulders rolling, trying not to wake anyone or draw attention to themselves. He touched the small of her back one time, her hand, another. When her cheeks pinkened pleasantly, predictably, he brushed a knuckle across them––surprising them both with the sweetness of that gesture.

"Do you l-like it here?" She found herself asking one day after she'd snuck out from a meeting in search of food for her lowering blood sugar. She escaped outside with two bowls of lukewarm rice, which she had hastily covered in sesame oil, seeds, and bright green onions. Shenji was walking the perimeter, whistling idly, when he spotted her.

Snow crunched under their footfall. It was five days after Christmas and they had gotten 3 inches overnight. The sun was not yet even fully risen. Shenji yawned as he accepted the bowl, his thanks a gracious and enduring smile in her direction. His eyes were piercing blue that always felt striking when turned on her. In these moments Hinata pretended like it was all real. There were parts of her that missed romance. She replayed what Ino had said––repeatedly, now––at the initiation. Move on. You're grown now.

"Yeah, it's cool," Shenji said with a mouth full of food. "You Hyuga sure know how to live it up."

That was where interactions typically went sour for her. Whenever she tried to ask a genuine, and perhaps, deep question, his answer was subpar––if not boring. It was like he was set on making perpetual small talk, spinning her question into other questions, or nothing at all. He chose instead to make comments about basic observations which touched on class disparity, but whenever Hinata tried to dig beneath that he would say something like, you wouldn't understand how it was before.

"I've got my first job tonight," he said, surprising her. "You know...besides this. Wish me luck?"

"O-of course!" She said immediately. "I didn't know you were g-going out. Who will you be with?"

She tried to recall her father mentioning it, but he hadn't. Though he told her many things, he didn't tell her everything, so she thought better of asking Shenji more questions about it outside of that.

"Kiba," he scratched his cheek as if deep in remembering. "And uh...that guy with the ponytail."

"Neji?"

"No, I know him," he shook his head smiling, "obviously. No, it sticks straight up. Lazy guy––"

"O-Oh Shikamaru," Hinata said. "T-that's a good group, you will be in good hands. Good luck, S-Shenji-san. A-and please be careful."

"I'm more careful than you know," he said cheerfully.

When she was quiet, he gently pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and grinned at her. The incoming sun hit his unbearably white smile just right. He's been doing this lately, giving her an underwhelming response and surprising her with an overwhelming gesture.

They ate and then she parted with their bowls stacked and held tightly against her stomach. His response left her feeling off-center. Suspicion grew deeper, its roots encircling her every step until she was back inside, in the warmth, her cheeks just as red. She mulled over this strange gesture as she navigated to the kitchen until her body collided with a solid structure that turned out to be Uchiha Sasuke.

"Careful there, Hyuga princess," he said, his voice a lithe and smooth sound that curled around her entire body. He placed his hand under the bowls, steadying them as they clanked against each other in their distress. He was so close. "Where are you going so fast?"

His eyes peered behind her, seemingly looking beyond the front entrance where Shenji paced, before turning back to her. His eyes gave nothing away. She rotated around him, removing his hand from the ceramics, and walking on. "Kitchen," she said.

He made her anxious. Both men did. He followed, despite her tone, plucking the bowls out of his hand in an act of extreme, or comical, smug chivalry. "I can see that."

They hadn't truly spoken since the night he'd come in with a stab wound and Hinata showed him her back tattoo. That instance of vulnerability, in which she'd let her guard down, embarrassed her deeply. She hadn't told anyone about it. Instead, she avoided him like a plague. It wasn't like it was hard to do these days when meetings and security shifts filled their schedules. Hinata could easily go 24 hours without talking to very many people at all.

"I'm not following you for no reason," he said after their combined long silences. He placed the bowls gently into the sink and then straightened them. "I just don't have details. We've got a job today, don't we?"

In which I promised to show you more skin, Hinata thought darkly, wincing to herself as she remembered that fateful conversation where she'd exposed herself to his delirious, barely stitched together gaze. Okay, so he wasn't delirious at all. She just wished he had been.

"I'll tell y-you in the car," the words oozed out of her. She had spent the entire morning––which wasn't a very long time considering it was only 8 am––trying to forget about this damn mission, in which she would be forced to have a conversation with her ex-boyfriend.

She scratched her skin thinking about Gaara and the hows and whys of secretive, coordinated meetings, and the reason drops offs couldn't just come to their front door. Too much of a liability, everyone said. Hinata felt as if she was the one taking all the hits. It felt pretty fucking personal. She bit the skin off her thumb and was surprised to see a pearl of blood. Damn. She was more anxious than she thought.

Sasuke watched her without an expression as she hid her hand behind her back, pressing the bloody tip of her finger into her T-shirt. "We'll l-leave at 6," she finally answered. "I'll drive."

Sasuke said nothing again, just nodded. Hinata took that as a dismissal, so she gathered her coat and headed for the door with red burning skin. She felt out of sorts like she desperately needed to disappear back into bed. She worried that when she closed her eyes, she'd see Gaara beneath them.

"Oh, Hyuga," Sasuke called casually as she walked out the door, his voice like a sprite that crawled up your sides and into your ears. "Happy belated birthday."

Her ears burned.

-:-

"Seems excessive," Sasuke was saying, reclining in the passenger seat of a cream-colored G-wagon that he seemed silently impressed by, upon first sighting it. Hinata kept her eyes on the road, driving steadily down the expressway. "Do you Hyugas always go in a circle before getting anything done?"

"P-people watch the Estate. People watch the laundromat, Yamanaka Flowers, a n-number of places. It's better that retrievals are d-done away from these locations. Meeting points, e-espcially public ones, can be private too."

She had just finished explaining that they were to pick up materials from Suna and negotiate the terms of their newest deal. Hinata had the Hyuga conditions and asks on the tip of her tongue and it felt heavy with her remembering. The night before, she sat for hours in her father's dark office, inhaling his smoke, as he detailed their plans for the next couple of weeks. Apparently, taking the Akatsuki club was not enough.

Everyone, including Suna, wanted to run them out of town for good.

"Hm," Sasuke just hummed, his tone seemingly disbelieving. Hinata only wished she had time to tell him about the men who approached her, taking her out on dates just to get into the Estate or plant bugs on her. The fact that she, a mostly hidden Hyuga daughter, had appeared on some of these people's radars was reason enough to believe that there were eyes on the Hyuga Syndicate. "Whatever. Seems simple enough––we talk to Gaara, exchange our shit, and leave?"

Hinata nodded as images of Gaara filled his brain again. She shook them away frightfully as she skillfully navigated her car through the back alley and parked in a small square of pavement beside a gleaming black Benz. Hinata winced at the sight of it thinking, he's here. Gaara had bought himself that car towards the end of their relationship and she remembered, with a flash, the feeling of her face being shoved against its cream leather seats.

She exhaled forcefully, dissipating the images with her breath. She would have to see him soon enough. Sasuke quietly watched her from his seat, an eyebrow raised, but she ignored him. Hopping out of the car with a leap, her ears were hot with anxiety.

In front of them was the bathhouse where they would meet Gaara. It was an incredibly urban-looking building, with gleaming concrete walls painted white, and large windows with white curtains obscuring the rooms inside. They were at the back entrance, where a fake potted Birds of Paradise plant stood in front of modern black text painted on the building to read: THE COMMON BATHHOUSE

It wasn't her first choice. It wasn't even her last fucking choice. In fact, Hiashi told her that it was entirely Suna's choice. Apparently, the bathhouse was affiliated with the Suna family, making it one of the safest and most convenient places to do the trade. Gaara chose the location, knowing there was a chance she would be there. Fucking asshole.

Sasuke was looking at her with both eyebrows raised now. She realized idly that she'd been standing there staring at the wall for a period of time that edged on inappropriate. He said, "Are you okay?"

"O-of course, why wouldn't I be?" The words were forced through teeth and she hoped he hadn't noticed.

If he did, he didn't bring it up, instead opening the back door and gesturing her through. The back area was a storage room full of modern gray concrete and bamboo furnishings. An attendant spotted them immediately and ushered them through a set of flapping doors. The lights changed from the bright ultraviolet of working space to a dim hum of relaxation.

She was an older woman with frizzled orange hair pushed into a bun at the back of her head. Forcefully, she pushed them into a private room with her hands waving wildly. "Quickly! Gaara-sama is here and expecting you. He says he doesn't have long."

"Um––d-do you have sep...separate c-changing rooms?" Hinata suddenly felt frantic after being pushed into this weird, luxury locker room where the tiled floor gleamed dark green and the chairs were padded with velvet. The mirror was 10 feet tall and a money tree beside it attempted its height and stopped short at half.

"No time!"

"––b-but why?"

"This is fine," Sasuke's voice cut out patiently. "Thank you, ma'am. We'll find you when we're ready for Gaara-sama."

The woman closed the door. Hinata stared at Sasuke in complete dismay, turning words over in her mouth as if she were trying to figure out the most polite way to ask him what the fuck?

The room was small and cool. Sasuke reached over and locked the door with a click. "Don't look at me like that," he said, though Hinata didn't know she was making any sort of face other than complete dread. "I'm going to turn around and get undressed, okay? I'm wearing a swimsuit under my clothes. What about you?"

"M-me too," she answered, turning suddenly as if he had already started disrobing. He hadn't. To her dismay, when she turned there was yet another tall mirror, which reflected the first one. She could still see him! She wanted to cry.

"Fine, I'll go first. Close your eyes if you want," Sasuke said. Hinata wanted to feel grateful but his voice was a smile. She gnashed her eyes shut as she heard clothing rustle. Sasuke's shirt was a push of air around her shoulders. "How are you so squeamish, Hyuaga princess, if you're a tattoo artist? Sure you've seen more than this."

His shoes came off, then his pants. She felt him move around her, grabbing the slippers, little maroon piece of plastic, and sliding them on. The hair on her arm rose. "It's...it's um, different," she said. "It's professional. It's about context."

"I'm done, you can open your eyes. Besides," Sasuke said. Hinata did and found herself looking right into the mirror, finding Sasuke's shirtless, pantless, form standing behind her. His swim trunks were black but relatively normal. Still, her eyes paused for a long moment on his form before she looked away, abruptly turning red. "Is this not professional?" Sasuke asked.

"T-turn around and close your eyes," Hinata said instead of answering. Once he did as asked, she made quick work of taking off her blue jeans and sweater, revealing a deep eggplant-colored bikini set that she would not have chosen for herself. After revealing the job and its description to Hanabi and Ino, all of her sacred one-piece suits had miraculously gone missing. She didn't find out until that morning, almost tearing her room to pieces in her anxiety.

When she looked at herself in the mirror her face was what she noticed first––her cheeks inflamed completely––she looked like a red balloon. She wanted to cover up, but at least her dragon could be seen and the sight of it calmed her. Her dragon tattoo dipped around her stomach with a swirl, its body long and delicate as it wrapped the side of her body to completion on her back. He breathed fire with an open mouth down below her waistline and you could see the fire reach completion at her left thigh. Around the dragon, red flowers bloomed. This tattoo had been the most daring thing Hinata had ever done, and it was because of Gaara that she'd gotten it.

She was at her weakest and she needed to feel brave. Maybe the bikini was good for something. She sucked in a breath.

Then released it hard when she remembered Sasuke was still in the room. He was still as he watched her in the mirror, his gaze on the head of the dragon, right where it lived on the right side of her stomach. When he noticed her looking at him, he tore his gaze away, looking neutrally into her eyes which somehow made her feel even more uneasy. This cool room was suddenly hot, and she barely heard him when he said, "So this is what you meant when you said––"

There was knocking at the door. The old woman. "L-let's just go." Hinata said.

-:-

Gaara sat in a private pool all the way in the back of the room.

On the way there, they wove their way through showers, individual tubs, and community pools. It wasn't crowded, but it wasn't empty either. Hinata surveyed the room as they walked towards the private room, counting each head she saw and noting all of the exits. Despite her disdain for the location, bathhouses were common places to meet and talk. Because you had to wear a swimsuit, there was no possible way you could harness a weapon, or a wire, and get away with it.

The old woman instructed them through a door at the end of the room. Before Hinata pushed it open, she did one more sweep of the room. Then, her heart got stuck in her throat. Sitting in a hot tub across the room, there was Suigetsu, the white-haired man from over a month ago who had wined and dined her and finally, wired her coat. She felt bile slowly make its way up her throat.

What was he doing there? And could she be sure that he was doing anything at all? She gave his general direction 15 more seconds: He was with a woman with red hair, laughing in a shared hot tub. They were drinking whisky out of small glasses. She was sitting on his lap, facing him as they both threw their heads back and laughed.

Okay, so he's on a date, Hinata reasoned with herself as she willed herself to look away. He probably didn't even see me.

But Hyuga did not believe in mere coincidence.

"You okay?" Sasuke asked when he saw Hinata pause with her hand on the door. He noticed too much. His body was a warm radiating hub of energy behind him. Already, they had brushed skin thrice.

"Yeah I-I just...thought I s-aw someone I know," she said quietly back. She pushed the door open and there Gaara was.

He was submerged in the water, leaning back against the wall. Behind him light seeped in from the overhead windows, casting him in a golden glow. He was framed by warm-toned bricks and expansive fern plans, looking more like a serpent in a tropical river than a man. When he spotted Sasuke and Hinata he didn't rise, he merely beckoned them forward with a hand.

Hinata stepped into the pool, letting the water calm her hot body. Gaara's piercing gaze never changed, even after both of them had their separate metamorphosis as the years passed. He hungrily ate in her body, his eyes tracing the lines of her tattoo in every direction that pulled her torso. He hardly looked at Sasuke who had waded into the water after her.

"I hope Hiashi-san does not intend disrespect," Gaara began. "I assumed he'd send a higher up."

Hinata felt her ears flame in anger. She kept her hands still under the water, though she wanted nothing more than to twist them together in her anxiety. "He...he did," Hinata said. "He sent me."

"Fair enough," the Suna king said, gesturing away her words with a hand. "And yet he expects the Uchiha brat to play security."

"We're partners," Hinata spoke for Sasuke, her voice smoothed and without fear. Though she was trembling at the admissions, her words shaking through her stutter had not leaked out of her yet. "Not that t-that's your business."

Sasuke sat against the wall behind her, creating a casual distance between himself and Gaara. Hinata was in the middle, for the most part, and took on the energy of negotiation.

"Partners?" Gaara questioned. He shook a cigarette out of a carton that laid poolside and lit it in a fluid motion, filling the room with heavy tobacco smoke.

Hinata chose not to elaborate. "T-tell me a-about the shipment."

"My how you've grown," Gaara said, instead. His tone was as lifeless and as flat as it always had been. His eyes were still on her body. She felt them settle on her breasts and flicker lower and then back up. She watched him do this several times feeling as if she wasn't able to crawl into her body and protect herself from him. Her skin felt like an open wound––an entire organ of sustained trauma.

Sasuke made a sound then, an annoying ticking sound like he had clicked his tongue against his teeth. He stood up and the water swirled around his body in ripples. His hand brushed her arms and sparks went up it. He said, "Why don't we save the pleasantries for our daydreams, huh? She asked about the shipment."

Gaara smoked idly, cocking his head to the side as if thinking deeply. He didn't address Sasuke at all when he said, "It was received without problem last week. Payment is being transferred as we speak."

"D-did the stock level suffice?" Hinata was grateful he let the subject drop without a hiccup. One thing about Gaara was that he knew when to handle business, and how to handle it. Fickle matters could be put on hold until after.

"It was fine," he said impassively. "We'll need the tiger's share next week if you want weapons next time, though. We've heard you have guys who cook it good, maybe even better than those Akatsuki freaks."

This made her ear twitch. Apparently, Sasuke's did too: "What exactly do you know about the Akatsuki?"

Gaara put his cigarette out by extinguishing it in a puddle of water beside the pool. "Let's take this conversation to the steam room."

-:-

It was dark in the steam room as clouds of moisture filled the room and obscured them all from view. Hinata sat beside Sasuke with a stiff back, feeling his heat for comfort before the next puff would enter and render them all invisible.

"The payment is complete," Gaara said from somewhere to the left of her, "by the way. When can I expect the tiger?"

"Tigers aren't e-easy to come b-by," Hinata grumbled. This wasn't what her father told her to negotiate. Tigers were rare. In fact, they'd only ever traded a tiger's worth in drugs once in their history as a Syndicate. It was when she was kidnapped, and her father needed leverage against Orochimaru. He gave the tiger to the Uchihas in a rare alliance after Hinata had been recovered. It was their way of repaying the debt. At the time, Uchihas had the information that they needed.

"Especially not without the right information," Sasuke intoned. Hinata wondered if he truly knew what it meant to give a tiger, or if he had been too young at the time to understand. "Don't change the subject. Tell us what you know."

Hinata heard Gaara shift, putting one leg over another. Then there was a sharp metal sound and a small flame within the steam. Gaara's face was illuminated so briefly, but he vanished into a puff of heavy smoke. Hinata jumped and Sasuke, for just a moment, touched her leg to assure her that he was still there. The smell of tobacco filled the small room.

"I know very little," Gaara admitted, though it sounded like he didn't want to. "A distant cousin went rogue three years ago, just after I was named Father. We didn't think it mattered––didn't track him down. He was loyal to my father and angry that we didn't retaliate after Baki."

Hinata felt her stomach churn. Surely this cousin did not know what had been done to her after Baki was killed by her uncle. The smell of tobacco began to make her feel sick. Perhaps she would vomit.

"He thought I was weak for not taking a Hyuga. He said I wasn't fit to be a Father––I'm sure others agreed, but at the time I was just a stupid kid who was in love with one of them. Maybe if I had more self-respect, I'd be telling a different story."

He made one of them sound like the nastiest, most rotten fruit at the bottom of a barrel. Hinata felt her stomach churn again, slapping her fingers over her mouth as if to stop vomit from spewing. She told herself she was brave as she remembered the feeling of his hands shoving her down, his mouth at her ear, his voice laced in anger, and she swallowed it all. She swallowed the vomit back down her throat as more mist covered the room. The wall behind her was warm when she straightened. She was lucky no one could see her cry.

Sasuke shifted beside her. He had long since moved his hand which had been a surprising small comfort to her, and slammed it against the bench like he was angry. "Why don't you stick to the story you're telling now?" He glowered. "It would be good to remember that you are asking us for something, Suna."

Gaara made no sound, he just blew out smoke. He didn't acknowledge him, instead speaking in a dry tone: "My cousin was rightfully upset, is all I'm saying, and that's why I allowed him to get away with leaving. I'm a graceful Father, you see," his tone was amiable, mocking. "We found out recently that he has joined the Akatsuki. His name is Sasori. We've got eyes on him as recently as last week."

"Does my Father know?" Hinata asked.

"You're the first Hyuga to hear it," Gaara said. "Think of it as a privilege, Hinata, that I trust you so much."

The words left a weight in the air. Hinata was not sure what her next move was to be. They hadn't discussed this. This wasn't in the plan! And him asking for a tiger without preamble was uncalled for––that wasn't even for her to decide. What game was he fucking playing here?

"We will take our leave now," Sasuke's voice came out hard and he wasn't leaving room for debate. "We have received payment, as you stated earlier. Anything else, we welcome you to discuss with Hiashi-sama."

Sasuke grabbed her forearm, quietly saying in her ear, "We'll leave our clothes. I'll be behind you. Let's go."

Her hair rose at his closeness, the danger of his voice, the feeling of his torso against her. She stood as if compelled, walking quickly towards the door of the steam room.

But when she slid the door open, a figure emerged. They lept into the room with speed Hinata could not comprehend and collapsed an arm against her esophagus. Panic filtered through her, rendering her immobile. A scream hovered in her throat.

"Nobody move," the person said as one arm held Hinata's body in place, the other was tight around her neck. She breathed in slow movements, her diaphragm contracting against this man's arms. His body was cold and wet on her back. "Or I break her neck."

"Gaara what the fuck is this?" Sasuke asked slowly, his body going completely still. Gaara hadn't moved an inch from his corner, his green eyes hard as he surveyed the situation.

The man laughed with a sick lift to his voice. "I'm acting alone––has nothing to do with him."

Hinata breathed low, her ears placing the voice the more he spoke. "S-suigetsu?" she wheezed in question through his hand. "W-what do you want?"

"A Hyuga prize. Just like the one Orochimaru attempted fourteen years ago," He tightened his grip around her stomach.

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

"You m-must be confused," Hinata muttered. She did not struggle, she did not move; all but going slack within his hold. He held her together, confiscating her motionless body in his grip, her body slippery against his wet one.

He placed a hand over her mouth to silence her, "I'm not talking to you."

Hinata bit down on his hand so hard that she tasted iron, her jaw working against the fragile tendons between his thumb and pointer finger. Blood squirted down her hand as he released her in shock. Then, all hell broke loose.