family affair

thirteen:

gun in my hands

"Not at a-all a date," Hinata found herself saying into the phone. She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, kicking books out of the way so that she could get a full picture of her shoes. "We just had a long day. Honestly, Ino, it w-was so––"

"So, let me get this straight, you're not going out for New Year's with me? You're going with some random, hot, employee of your dad's?"

"That's a strange way to p-put it..." Hinata said, frowning somewhat. Were they not all employees of her father's? Ino included? She looked down at her outfit for the evening: Dark flared jeans and a cropped turtleneck. Under it, she wore a tank-top, just in case the bar was warmer than expected. When she drank she did tend towards overheating. She put on Hanabi's platform Doc Martens: though it had been dry the last day or so, she didn't trust the weather completely, and Hanabi had the most expansive shoe collection in the city. The outfit was more than practical: it was damn near puritan. "But seriously Ino, I have to tell you about what happened. Remember S-Suigetsu––"

An image of him flashed before her eyes. On their first date, they sat in a park between skyscrapers, their heads tilted towards the sky. He'd brought picnic items: A large blanket, a small lemon cake, onigiri, pickled vegetables, cucumber salad, smoked salmon, and fizzy drinks. They had loved to eat together during those four faithful dates they'd been on. Snacking on cuisines of all kinds, their gazes had been a different type of hunger.

Now Hinata shuttered to remember his bulbous face as she and Sasuke rushed from the theatre, casting their eyes downwards and away. It was only a few hours ago Hinata watched a van depart from the driveway, carrying Suigetsu's body to an undisclosed location. Watching Sasuke hit him with the butt of her father's gun was the last thing she would ever see of him and she didn't even have it in her to think good riddance.

"Stop thinking about that asshole," Ino prattled on. She was getting ready for her own outing, on the video call taking rollers out of her hair. She put the camera down and backed away, showing off her outfit: A sleek purple dress with fur around the bodice, and white knee-high go-go boots. "You said it yourself, you never liked him anyways. Sasuke though, this Sasuke...hmm, I might even be jealous! Now back up, I want to see your fit."

"Ino that's not what I'm talking about," Hinata rubbed her temples, beginning to feel annoyed. All Ino ever did these days was talk over her and assume. Hinata wasn't sure what the catalyst was, but she knew that it was starting to make her uncomfortable. "T-This is a serious situation..."

"I know," Ino rolled her pretty, made-up eyes. She had to pause to glue her mink lashes down and blink into the camera. "That's why I asked to see your fit. Back up a little. It's a little conservative, no? You shouldn't be so covered––I think you either need to ditch the sweater or the jeans. Perhaps a miniskirt?"

"I think I'm g-going to get off the phone."

Ino's face fell, "don't be like that, Hina. I'm just trying to help, okay? Where are you going with Sasuke? Could y'all perhaps...join Tenten, Neji, and I? Shenji, Shika, and Kiba might join us if their job finishes in time."

"I can't do that," Hinata replied in a clipped tone, which made Ino's eyebrows raise. "N-not today. It's wherever Sasuke w-wants to go. I'm in need of some t-time away...S-suigetsu...he––"

"I'm tired of hearing about him!" Ino's face was far from the camera as she turned her body this and that way. "You deserve so much better, okay babe? Now, we're going to––"

"Right," Hinata said as she snatched her phone off the table, "S-Sasuke is knocking! I've got to go now." With that, she hung up, silenced her phone, and charged to the door without preamble.

She opened it to see Sasuke leaning against the wall opposite her room. His figure was shocking––he had never ventured upstairs before––but he looked casual, dressed in the same clothes as before except for the edition of a heavy coat and some stocky boots. Both of his hands were full: he was holding helmets.

Hinata cocked her head to the side at the sight of them, "What's that about?"

"Safety," he answered snidely. He gave her a once over, taking in her covered limbs, and delicately covered skin, and nodded. "You dressed well for tonight, but you might want a scarf for the ride."

Her face warmed at what could be a compliment, what could be a practical observation. Then her eyebrows lifted, "You have a motorcycle."

He nodded, a small smirk working its way onto his face. It made him look younger, despite his already quite young expression. "Some of us have hidden talents too, Hyuga Princess."

"W-well," Hinata drank in his expression, only for a moment relishing in the upturn in his mouth, the challenging look in his eyes, "Let's see them."

-:-

She felt good against his back. Her body was warm, and it seemed to block the chill that sunk in from the passing wind. He didn't always ride his bike in the early winter, but the forecast said it would be mostly dry and not very cold, on the fateful New Years' night. He figured he could get a ride in before he'd have to retire the bike for the season.

He rode smoothly, so as not to startle her. He chose to drive on the safe side as if he was carrying precious cargo. Despite his efforts, or perhaps because of them, Hinata sat casually on the back of the bike, her arms a tangled knot around his stomach. She didn't seem scared.

When he stopped at the bar he frequented, she hopped off with sleepy confidence the way she always seemed to do things. She was a strange oxymoron of a person, with strange skills, and strange positions, but a generally shy and worrisome exterior.

"C'mon," he said, leading her inside without touching her. After popping her helmet onto his bike, her hair falling like silk around her shoulders, she followed. Her eyes were bright as she took in the neon sign across the top, and an amused look flashed across her normally-reserved face: "'Friendly's?"

"What?"

"Doesn't s-seem like a place you would go..."

"You calling me mean?" Sasuke held the door open for her.

"I'm n-not calling you nice, is all. You work for my father, after all."

"And what does that make you?" the room opened up for them, bodies packed inside under Christmas lights and mistletoe. It smelled sour, like beer and gingerbread cookies. The people seemed to swarm them, so he placed a hand on her lower back and steered them towards the bar.

She didn't shy away from his touch, letting herself be guided in this new and foreign space. She had to look up at him when he spoke, placing her mouth near his neck so that he could hear her as she said: "I'm––I'm irrelevant."

Once at the bar, Sasuke hailed down a bartender without looking down the counter, instead he rose an eyebrow down at the woman, half of his face glowing red. "How's that?"

They placed their orders. Sasuke would have a whisky, and Hinata copied him, pointing with the ring finger the most expensive one on the shelf behind the bartender. Sasuke rose his eyebrow again at this, but she shrugged and told him that that was what her dad drank. It tasted good enough.

Sasuke thought that was an understatement after the drinks had been brought out, placed inside of their hands, and deposited down their throats. The burn was familiar, and it thawed a part of him he had not known was frozen. Hinata, too, seemed to loosen at the core, rolling her head around her shoulders in small circles. She smiled, exposing a small jewel on her left canine, which glinted red in the light. Another small surprise.

"How's that?" the Uchiha repeated. He felt the day fall off of him like dirty clothing. There was no use keeping those memories pressed against his cerebral when there would be time to process them later. For fucks sake––it was New Year's, and he hadn't had a goddamn break in weeks. And sure, sure, it was irresponsible to bring Hyuga fucking Hinata to one of his favorite haunts, but what were the odds of one of his very few friends showing their faces when Friendly's was his thing, and no one else's?

Perhaps the liquor was getting to him. They'd been there ten minutes and had already ordered a third drink each, both guzzling them down like tall glasses of water, washing away the day. The music was pulsating, sleek, and heavy, with the base curling around their bodies as it lulled them to calm. The bodies around them moved, jostled, and screamed but it didn't matter. They felt unknowable here.

Sasuke watched Hinata glance at the clock, fanning herself lightly as more bodies created heat in the space. 11:55 pm. A new year was approaching quickly, like a thief with a knife against your neck. She put her drink down and Sasuke could not help but watch, being what and who he was, as she grabbed the edges of her sweater and pulled it over her head. She wore a black tank top underneath, which revealed none of her tattoos. Sasuke found it disappointing when he looked into the cream of her shoulders, its ink absent. But he allowed his eyes to travel, over her chest, processing with slow-blinking eyes, and down to her waist, where he could imagine the curling lines of her tattoos. His heart did a sit-up in his chest and he ignored it.

She didn't notice, picking the drink back up casually, and tossing her hair back, exposing her long neck. Her eyes were sleepy when she looked at him but open in ways he had never seen: "I'm irrelevant b-because I'm here out of duty. I'm not making money. I'm not making d-decisions. I exist to s-serve the syndicate."

Sasuke gestured and sent for more drinks. The clock ticked up. He stared at her hard, really looking at her as if she was becoming more and more real in front of his eyes. "So what does that mean?"

"It means...it m-means that I am made of the very same beast you joined. I'm like a limb, an inexplicable part. I h-have no traits besides b-being a part of the things itself. I'm just...just Hyuga Hinata."

"If you're a limb then what am I? A toenail?"

Hinata shook her head, her hair falling around her neck and shoulders in a great mass. Her eyes were serious, sad, and patient as if she was telling a story she already knew the end of. "No, Sasuke. You're not the thing itself, you could never be."

"So what am I then?"

The clock struck 12. Cheers erupted. Bodies moved. Confetti fell from the cieling. Hinata put her small hand on his shoulder a smiled a small mournful smile.

"You are the gun in my hands," she said. "And I am not me at all."

-:-

They celebrated the new year by dancing together. It was unexpected, to Sasuke at least, that the Hyuga would do something so...loose. Already, she had shed her top layer and left it in some corner. Already she had drunk more whisky than he thought possible for her small form. She turned from some shy creature to a full-tooth grin in the flashing lights of the bar, and it was endearing to see it all fall away.

She was not a messy drunk by any means; put together, a little silly, and quite flirty were all things the Uchiha would maybe describe her as. After all, the eldest Hyuga woman had to have some sort of sex appeal, shy or not-it seemed to be a part of the job. Like a spy, she'd been trained for it. Now, she fell into it like it was easy, her eyes lowered, her hair swept back, her arms a reaching signal.

Sasuke, to his credit, had also allowed himself one drunk night where he didn't have to think of very many things. It was a new year, and he would be meeting up with his long-lost brother in only a few days' time. The thought alone was enough to send a spike of energy and anxiety through him, which he used to propel him into the sea of people. Bodies covered them.

Hinata was a decent dancer. He would not say that she was good, but she certainly wasn't the worst. He could tell that she didn't do it often as he spun her. He found his hands lowering and lowering until they rested on her waist, and she moved in––at first hesitant, but later somewhat more confident––circles around his body.

To be transparent-and the Uchiha was nothing but that during the rare occasions he was under the influence-Hinata essentially calling him a weapon had made him kind of hard. It was an unexpected rush that he credited to hypermasculinity, something he structurally had to unlearn during his days training in espionage. Things like that were symptoms of pride, and that was dangerous in the field.

But he had always been prideful. Pride was a structure of the Uchiha too, and he could not forget his upbringing any more than he could forget his role in the world, in this situation, in his life. But...the statement still made him hard as he looked down into the face of a woman who was essentially his boss, but also not. Who had all of these hidden skills, all of these hidden tattoos, and all of these hidden stories. He was there to bring the Hyuga to its knees––the clan, not her, but she was the thing itself, she had said. She was––

Grinding on him. It had truly been a long day. He remembered the private dressing room, watching her skin slowly come out of its dark baggy clothing, a pocket of plump flesh emerging in a stringed purple bikini. The hard lines of a dragon against her soft and dimpled belly, dipping just below her swimsuit. Now, her tank top rode up, exposing the back part of her tattoo just over her jeans as the music and alcohol flooded through her veins.

At the end of the day, they were there together, and alone, dancing. Sasuke's hands were on her jeans as she turned and faced him, her eyes low and mischievous as she slid her arms around his neck. They gyrated, moving their bodies in unison to the music. Hinata leaned her head back and let out a belting lyric to a song Sasuke had not realized was on, her voice lifting, if I had a little, ah, yeah, eh. If I had a little ah, ah––

"––Sasuke?"

A voice interrupted them. Like a flash, Hinata had let him go as if the spell had been broken. Her face colored deeply. She pulled her pants up self-consciously, blinking several times as if she were just waking up.

The Uchiha wiped his face clear of emotion and was doing a hellofa a better job than his Hyuga companion in acting like a normal human being. He turned to see none other than Haruno Sakura staring at him, her jaw hanging agape.

Fuck, he thought, the sight of her bringing the alcohol to a head. It quickly raced from his system. He didn't think he'd see anyone at Friendly's that he knew. He knew his friends sometimes came but––

He had been stupid. Slightly, and perhaps very noticeably, he stepped around Hinata as if to shield her. Sakura's jaw collected itself as her eyebrow rose. She stuck her hand out at Hinata, to shake, saying "Hello! I'm a friend of Sasuke's. I'm Sato Yui."

One of her many pseudonyms. Sasuke cursed in his head, this was worse than he thought it would be.

Hinata blinked at her, the pinkness leaving her cheeks. She extended her hand too, smiling mildly as she said, "Sato-san, so nice to meet you. I'm Hina."

Not her full name. Hinata was sharp.

"How do you guys know each other?" Sakura asked in a friendly, bubbling manner. She did look like she was there for fun, dressed in a tiny black dress that meshed perfectly with her curves, and tall white heels that looped around her ankles. Her eyes darted between them in delighted, curious, joy.

"Work," Hinata smiled, her cheeks flushing. She didn't say anything else.

Drunk Hinata did not stutter as much, and she was no idiot either. She glanced at them both, before gesturing towards the bar. Then she yelled over the music: "I'm going to go get another drink! You guys want something?"

Sasuke said yes, Sakura declined, raising her own in her hands. Hinata nodded, then she darted between the crowds of people, heading to the bar.

Once she was out of earshot, Sakura turned an alarming red color. She stomped on Sasuke's foot hard enough for him to wince. "Sasuke––what the fuck are you doing?!"

He had no answer. She was right to be angry. He was being stupid. He should not have brought Hinata there.

"We're not going to talk about this now," he responded simply.

"No, not now?" Sakura raged, turning as pink as her hair. "You––you––a fucking Hyuga? One that you––" her voice lowered here, and only a trained ear would be able to make out what she said next, "––one you said you had not gathered any intel on?"

"That's why I'm here," Sasuke lied easily. "Like I said. We don't need to talk right now."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of course, I do," Sasuke assured her. Her eyes were disbelieving if not a little hurt. Sasuke pushed away the memory of their last in-person meeting, in which they vowed to never interact in the same way again.

"I've got it under control, Haruno. Why are you jeopardizing the fucking mission by showing your ass?" And here he let a little bit of annoyance push through his tone, as if bothered by her skepticism, bothered that she would even think to intrude and question him. Gaslighting was an Uchiha skill, but Sasuke did not feel gratified at the hurt and hesitance that crossed his teammate's face.

He'd have to deal with it later.

Hinata reappeared holding two drinks and a dazed smile. Half of hers was gone already. She smiled prettily at Sakura, adjusting her disheveled tanktop and saying: "And how do you two know each other?"

"College," Sakura said, her face returning to a friendly glow. Then she patted Sasuke's shoulder in jest, lifting her tone: "You're lucky to work with this guy, he's one of the best."

Hinata nodded, her smile breaking her face as she said, "I think you're right, Sato-san. I'm very lucky indeed."

Sasuke remembered that he was the weapon, and she was the thing itself––but also, that he was irritatingly and dangerously attracted to her.

-:-

Sasuke got to his apartment at 4 am after dropping Hinata back at home at 3:45. His phone began ringing off the hook at 5:45.

He was grateful that he had driven his motorcycle there, so there was no unnecessary talking after a night of drunk mistakes. Unfortunately, there was ample room for necessary touching, which made his skin tingle as Hinata tightened her grip around him. This now-apparent, newfound attraction was shoved back down his throat where it came from. He might be a little tipsy still, but he was no fool.

Hinata was not one either, that was evident. She hopped off his bike, a polite smile on her lips as she bid him goodnight and vanished into the wings of the Estate. "Thanks s-so much for the adventure," she had said politely. "And thanks for l-looking out for me today. It won't go forgotten."

"Right," Sasuke said curtly. Already, they were both sobering and full of heavy regret, and it sat on their shoulders like a weight. "I'll see you tomorrow."

In his apartment, safe and fucking alone, Sasuke couldn't get the images of her out of his head. You are the gun in my hands, her voice appeared as he stepped into a hot shower. He felt his body react, as images of her figure zipped through his mind. He turned the shower cold, stopping the thoughts and shoving them away, somewhere else, somewhere far, where they belonged.

He toweled off and sat at his desk, his one light on, shining onto the bare table. He had few objects and saw fewer reasons to have them. His mind drifted, leaving its drunk-and-aroused state to a more practical one as he thought about the day he had had. He made a mental list of events:

Bathouse, Gaara, Tiger, steamroom. Suigestu, Orochimaru, Hinata, Estate. Theatre, Hiashi, Atasuki, Murder. These names...these situations didn't add up.

He got up to get his laptop and came face-to-face with the scratched yen from what felt like weeks ago. He'd taped it to his wall, and it was the only thing that adorned his apartment. With a pang, he remembered Itachi. Their meeting was only a couple of days away. Perhaps Sasuke could ask Itachi himself what was going on.

The idea was drunk and worse, naive. Sasuke snatched the yen off the wall and went to get his laptop. His laptop was in his safe, which was in an undisclosed location within the floorboards of his apartment. He traded it with the yen as if banishing the cash from sight. Then, he scanned his retina and put in the code, before pulling out the device. He rarely used it, preferring to do his research in the safety of headquarters, where their IPs and searches were more heavily protected.

What prison was Orochimaru in? And where was Hidan located? Could the two of them even have consistent enough communication to orchestrate an event like that? He unlocked his computer with concentrated typing, quickly accessing the databases that were available offsite. They were few and far in between. He pulled up articles on Orochimaru buried deep within the archive, but could not source the name of the prison he was in. All he could source was a report, written years ago, by his mentor. Most of it blackened out and named top-secret, even to him. He'd have to go to headquarters to reach this depth of information.

Still, he scrolled what little he could see of the file. All of Orochimaru's medical reports, his citizen identification number, and his dietary restrictions were unblocked parcels of nothing. He scrolled, a headache looming from all the whisky he'd drank until his vision began to blur. He transferred the laptop to his bed-a plain queen-sized fortress with cream sheets and two pillows-and felt his body relax into the foam. He scrolled, even though his head throbbed.

There was a picture, at the very end, of Orochimaru sitting in his cell, taken as a sort of "wellness check" they used to keep track of an inmate's appearance over time. This one was dated just a few months ago, so the file had been updated and secured again against all odds.

Orochimaru was certainly in solitary confinement; the cell was small with one bed, one toilet, and one sink all along one wall. Behind him, a tiny window gave a slither of a view of the outside world. Sasuke zoomed in: a desert.

Sasuke closed his laptop: he wouldn't get anything more from his search until he went to ANBU and signed on to the servers. He placed a pillow over his stomach, reaching idly for the silver water bottle he kept on his bedside table. His head hammered aggressively. No, no it didn't make sense. Hidan was not in a desert. He'd been at the Konoha State Penitentiary when he murdered Hyuga Hizashi.

He needed to get to headquarters immediately. These thoughts would not escape him.

Sasuke sat up to put on clothes, grabbing his jogging pants and sweater, his holstered gun from its place hanging off his desk chair when his phone started ringing. He hadn't slept one bit, and it was evident when he answered, glancing just casually at the caller ID before he said: "Can't sleep either, Hyuga princess?"

"Sasuke you need to come to the Estate right now," Hinata's voice came fast and stutter-free. She seemed wide awake. "There's been a raid. Shenji's been shot."

AN. Lost track of time - sorry I'm late! Hope i made up for it 3