Friends! I never expected this response to SasuHina! Turning this 'story' into a series of unrelated oneshots. Might elaborate on 'The Golden Ratio' sometime down the road. For the new folks, welcome! For those of you that follow my craziness and decided to give this series a try - thank you for the support!
Kingpin
The young woman – described by coworkers as quiet, reserved, always immaculately (if not a bit dowdily) dressed – was a skittish, disheveled, jumpy mess. She sat with an emergency blanket wrapped around her thin shoulders, nervous fingers clutching the fabric closed. She tried several times to reach for the hot cup of what passed for coffee at the police station, but was shaking so badly, she never did more than wrap her fingers around the cheap Styrofoam hoping for warmth. Underneath the blanket, her prim dress was splattered heavily with the blood of the man that had held her hostage – a man she had seen die before her very eyes. (Eyes that were still wide with echoes of terror, pupils dilated to the point that her eyes appeared more black than brown behind her thick, horn-rimmed glasses.) She occasionally patted at the thick, severe bun at the nape of her neck that she had hastily redone while one of the female officers politely waited for her to freshen up as best she could after arriving at the station.
She startled like a frightened rabbit as two police officers entered the room.
"I am sorry this is taking so long," the older officer put a heavy ceramic mug in front of her before taking his seat at the table. "We are doing all that we can to get you out of here and home, Miss Shinju."
"Thank you, Officer Sarutobi," she clutched at the blanket more tightly. "I appreciate it."
"That's not the station coffee," he nodded to the mug. "That's from the Keurig in the Captain's office."
"Thanks," she tried for a weak smile and wrapped her thin fingers around the mug.
Officer Asuma Sarutobi waited for her to have a few sips before clearing his throat.
"Miss Shinju, this is Officer Shikamaru Nara. He is here to go over what you told me, and to ask a few questions so that we can make sure we have our facts straight."
"I..I don't know what else I can tell you," she nervously trailed fingers along the side of her hair to her bun, pushing in a stray pin. "My department is in the back of the bank, near the vaults. Not the main vault, you understand – that is at the secured lower level. These vaults are for the safety deposit boxes and the like. As far as I knew, I was keeping an appointment with Mr. Shimura at 4:30 PM. I brought him to his family's box, and that is when he pulled out a gun and demanded I let him into the Uchiha vault."
She swallowed hard.
"Which you do not have keys to?"
Miss Shinju looked up at Officer Nara helplessly.
"No one does," she gripped the mug so tightly, her knuckles turned white. "The last of the family died out years ago – that small, back section of the vault was sealed with the investigation, and we can't do anything about it – or at least that is what I was told when I started working there."
"And how long ago was that?"
"About a year-and-a-half ago."
"I see. And when Mr. Shimura found out you could not access the vault?"
"He got very angry." She whispered, her fingers ghosting subconsciously over the darkening bruise on her cheek.
"What happened next, Miss Shinju," Officer Sarutobi prompted.
"They worked for a while," she swallowed, clasping her hands in her lap. "Mr. Shimura had two body guards, but everyone else must have been hired in. Whatever Mr. Shimura found in the opened vault, he wasn't happy, and neither were the people with him. After a while, an argument started. The two body guards…they…they got shot down," she looked down at her hands, wringing them furiously. "And…and then.."
"And then Mr. Shimura used you as a human shield," Shikamaru said. "But he was killed during the altercation."
"Yes," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "Then one started to go on and on about how art was an explosion, and he was making his masterpiece. They…they sealed us in the vault," her voice faltered. "Mr. Shimura was dead, but the bodyguards, I think they were still alive, if only barely. But those people they …they were going to blow everything up… they.."
Her voice broke, and she sobbed into her hand while Officer Sarutobi quietly passed her a box of tissues.
"Excuse me, Sir?"
Both officers looked up to see a young officer with glasses and a sever case of the sniffles at the door. "We have the latest from the Coroner," he passed the folder over before pulling out a Kleenex.
Asuma darted an irritated look between the sobbing Miss Shinju and the messenger. "That will be all, Udon."
Udon gulped nervously. "Yes, sir!" he beat a hasty retreat.
Asuma passed the file to Shikamaru while trying to calm Miss Shinju.
Shikamaru read quickly, his eyebrows shooting toward his hairline. He quietly passed the file back to Asuma before looking to Miss Shinju.
"Did Danzo… Mr. Shimura. Did Mr. Shimura ever say why he wanted to get into the vault?"
"No," she tried to delicately dab at her eyes under her glasses. "But whatever it was, he wanted it very, very badly."
Shikamaru reached into his pocket and pulled out a microfiber cloth. "For your glasses."
"Thank you," she took them off and squinted as she cleaned the lenses.
"Have you heard about Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha?"
"My co-worker told me about them," she put her glasses back on and handed back the cloth. "I'm not from here, you see. I knew the family name, of course – and I remember the national news story when they were in that big accident, that my coworker says wasn't really an accident… but that's all I've heard."
"Did your co-worker mention their sons?"
"Sons?" she blinked owlishly.
"Itachi and Sasuke," Asuma took over. "Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha were murdered. All of our evidence pointed to the older son Itachi as the mastermind behind it all. He disappeared after his parents' death, and the younger son was sent to live with family abroad. In recent years, we've had reason to revisit the case. After tonight, I fully expect the case to be fully reinstated as an active investigation."
"Investigation?" a small crease appeared between her eyebrows. "Because of the vault?"
"You were correct about the body guards. They were alive when we first got to the scene. As luck would have it, the medical expert that answered the call was actually the cousin of one of them. Torune must've used what was left of his energy to confess what he knew and die with a clear conscience."
"Did the other guard…"
"No."
"Oh," she visibly deflated.
"Torune's confession gave us the grounds to open the Uchiha vaults, and we now have strong evidence that Danzo Shimura was the one that engineered the murder of the Uchihas, not Itachi."
"Well that is it then, right?" she gave an attempt at a smile. "It will be nice for the younger son to hear that, I imagine – and perhaps the older son will return home, now that his name will be cleared."
"It isn't that simple," Officer Nara sighed. "The reality, Miss Shinju, is that Uchiha had underworld ties. For years we thought that their son might have gone underground and taken over as a Kingpin figure. Can't prove it, naturally, but the evidence is there."
"And the younger son?"
"Still lives abroad and travels frequently," Asuma checked his notes. "Which brings us to our next point; we need your help."
"My help?" she blinked twice. "What can I do?"
"Well for one thing, we are counting on your discretion. Sasuke is difficult to contact, and we need to bring him to Konoha so we can explain all of this to him. We don't want him finding out second hand."
"I don't think I'm going to want to talk about any of this anytime soon," she murmured clutching the blanket tightly.
"Not with friends or family?"
Her pale cheeks flushed.
"I don't have any family. I won't say anything."
"Good," Shikamaru folded his hands in his lap. "We're also going to need you to stay close. Don't leave town if you can help it. You might find that you remember something that was done or said that could be critical in the case. Also, technically you are the only witness to the murder of Danzo Shimura. Eventually you might be called in to testify."
"A..alright. I didn't have plans to go anywhere."
"We know that," Officer Sarutobi offered her a kind smile. "In light of the incident, you will be given time off of work. We'd like to make sure you see a psychiatrist during that time – at no charge to you. We want to make sure that you have the support you need as you process what you've been through."
"Th-thank you," her voice wavered with the threat of tears. "I-I will do whatever I can to help."
Nao Shinju moved into her apartment the week before she began her job at the bank. For the last year and four months she left and returned like clockwork – so much so that the staff at the security desk were nervous if she was even a few minutes late. When the timid woman did not return from the bank, and the news came about the hostage situation, they were besides themselves with worry.
The afternoon guard (a portly man in his late fifties with daughters Nao's age) actually went to the station to give her a ride home, and several of her neighbors were waiting in the lobby to see if she was alright.
"I'm sure you're all very concerned," he said, looking them all over, "But Nao has had a rough day. Let's let her get some rest."
He carried a big box up to her apartment with no less than two casseroles, a pie, and several different baked goods.
"I'll be down at the desk if you need me, Nao," he assured her. "The Missus said she'd be glad to come by if you need someone to stay the night. She reckoned you wouldn't want to be alone."
"I hate to impose," she tapped her fingers together nervously, and the older man smiled.
"Not at all. I'll have her come."
Barely an hour later, the women were sharing a cup of tea and a comfortable silence. This particular neighbor was more motherly than nosy, and did her best to not be intrusive. When Nao excused herself to shower and go to bed early, she checked the door and the locks, and got comfortable on the couch for the evening, keeping a sharp ear open in case Nao called for her.
An hour after that, she was snoozing heavily, and would not wake until morning.
Nao was counting on it - or rather she was counting on the potent but harmless sedative she'd served her guest in her tea
She changed and bagged her clothing as quickly as possible before slipping out of the apartment, and down the back stairwell, and into a nondescript black car.
The drive across town was quick at this time of night, and she was soon parked under a sleek, modern building and in the elevator that with a turn of a key went straight to the unmarked top floor.
She took the time to remove her contacts – blue this time and not the brown she'd worn earlier – as well as the blonde wig she'd used to make sure no one could accuse Nao Shinji of being anywhere other than asleep and distraught in her apartment.
Here, there was never any pretense.
Here, she would look upon the world with her own eyes – even if it was one of the only places left in the world where she had that freedom.
Hers was a clan of assassins, and she'd learned how hide in plain sight, becoming invisible to those around her.
Here, she could not only be seen, but she could be seen as herself - not as one of the alter-egos she flowed between with the ease of a chameleon.
She found him standing at the fireplace, a glass of whisky in his hand and took a moment to appreciate his lithe, masculine beauty and the raw power contained in the cords of muscle in his arms and back.
"Did you succeed?"
The question hung in the air between them, spoken in the flat, even tone of long-cultivated indifference – something she knew was as much of a mask as anything in her arsenal.
"Danzo is dead."
He looked her over.
"You are certain?"
Something in the quirk of her eyebrow said that she didn't appreciate his doubt, but that she would tolerate it.
"I should be. I killed him myself."
"And the others?"
"Provided the perfect distraction," she crossed to stand by him. "Although Deidera might want to go a bit easier on the explosives next time," she reached into her bag and handed him a manila folder stamped "CONFIDENTIAL"
He began to read the illicit copy of the file as she continued her report. "Shino reported Fuu and Torune as dead; they will be on a jet somewhere far, far away by now. I don't expect to see them again – ever."
"Who do they suspect?"
"They have been tracing Itachi – or at least they think they have been. Their theories about him becoming an underground kingpin will fall flat when they realize he's been cooperating with the FBI."
"Cooperating is a strong word," he scoffed. "They've been mutually using each other."
"True," she shrugged, "but Danzo's criminal activity was enough that they had reason to work with him – even if they don't realize how much Itachi manipulated the situation to his advantage."
That was a kindly phrased understatement.
Itachi Uchiha had been leading his own investigation of and retaliation against Danzo from the shadows for years. The FBI could do little more than 'suspect' Danzo was dealing in crime before Itachi offered his help in exchange for an amnesty of sorts.
While they followed the leads he gave them, he continued to work other angles of the investigation, including sabotaging Danzo's underground dealings.
He even provided the backup for tonight's take-down in the form of a team of mercenaries, and had been in on the plot that started two years ago – long before she was ever put in place as Nao Shinju. After all, as one falsely accused, Itachi Uchiha had nothing to lose and everything to gain by Danzo's exposure.
All rumors about him dominating the underworld were completely untrue.
Itachi Uchiha was not the Kingpin.
Sasuke Uchiha was.
"Here," she pulled the bagged clothes out of her pack. "For you."
He unfolded the dowdy, nondescript dress, and eyed it greedily, thumbing over the macabre embellishment of blood splattered across fabric.
She stood in silence as he tossed the garment into the fire and watched it burn.
"This is what happens to any who would oppose us," his voice was satin and steel and promise and death. "No one will get in the way of rebuilding the clan."
He turned to her then.
"Our clan, Hinata," he traced the bow of her lip. "Yours and mine."
"Our clan," she agreed, and he crushed her mouth under his, possessively staking his claim in her.
In them.
In their future.
Sasuke Uchiha might be the Kingpin.
But Hinata Hyūga was his queen.
And nothing would stand in their way.
Nao: Japanese unisex name meaning 1) "docile" or 2) "esteemed."
Shinju: Japanese name meaning "pearl."
*This is sort of an excerpt from a larger fic idea that i distilled to the oneshot. In this AU, the Huygas are a clan of assassins. There was no Naruto in Hinata's childhood, and no Sakura in Sasuke's. Sasuke grew up far from Konoha, and Hinata was always part of the underworld, so their personalities are way different than canon. Don't think I'll be picking it back up, but hope you enjoyed it!