Many, many thanks to my beta, Tomas the Betrayer, for doing such a fantastic job.

Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah, yada yada yada, and onto the story!

Review, please.

Chapter 10

Feelings and the P-Club

Hinata nervously picked at the sleeve of her expensive gray kimono, breaking a few strands. She stared at them in dismay – the dressmaker would not be pleased. This kimono had cost a fortune, that she was sure of, with its gold-trimmed embroidery and delicate sewing. It was soft and comfortable, and now yet another reason for which she was going to be scolded.

She had a valid excuse this time, though. Her fiancé, Uchiha Itachi, would be arriving for his thrice-weekly meeting, and their chaperone, Miyanami-sama, was already here.

Hinata knew that she was easily intimidated. Her father and the rest of the elders were living proof of that. Not to mention the Hokage, half the jounin in the village, Uchiha Fugaku-san her soon-to-be father-in-law, and her fiancé himself. But anybody, even the Uchiha themselves, would need to have souls of steel to withstand Uchiha Miyanami's chilly glare. That woman could make the snow country seem tropical. A perfect addition to her already miserable day.

She had woken up this morning to a loud banging on the screen doors to her room. Opening them timidly, it was more than a little surprising to see Shizune standing outside with a half-naked Jiraiya. The disheveled legend had on little more than a loincloth, and was showing off all his sagging muscles in their questionable glory. Hinata had very nearly fainted – she was actually in the process of dropping to the ground – when Shizune grabbed her and pulled her firmly upright.

"Oh no, you don't!" she said, in a voice more terrible than hell itself. Hinata had long since deduced that the woman had wasted her talent in becoming a shinobi rather than a stage actor – the way she had everybody fooled with that sweet and docile outer appearance was completely at contrast with her inner Satan.

Her glowering tutor pulled her into the room, dragging Jiraiya behind. Timidly, Hinata sat down, expecting the woman to start pulling out appropriate kimono as she always did on the days when she had to meet Itachi-san. However, Shizune instead offered a surprise by promptly announcing, "We are going to test you today."

The frightened chuunin felt sweat pool under her armpits and on her forehead. "A t-test? I d-don't think that you s-said anything about a t-t-t-test last time…"

She trailed off, looking at the ferocious expression on Shizune's face and feeling no less nervous. Hinata was not good at tests. She only did well when she had extensive preparation, and this time it was a total surprise! It was bound to end badly, and when Father saw the results he would be angry. Then all the Elders would ridicule her again, and then –

Hinata was brought out of her panicky reverie by the sound of someone chuckling. Whirling around, she saw the shirtless sannin laughing merrily. Wiping his eyes, he said "Oh, Hina-chan! You're really serious, you know that? We're simply gonna ask you to choose your own dress, you know?"

"Correct." Shizune's grim alto broke the joyous atmosphere. Seriously, that woman had the ability to make her voice sound like the Bells of Doom. "Today, you will choose your own outfit for your rendezvous with Itachi-san." She sighed, and then sat down, her back ramrod straight. "Hinata-sama, we have done our utmost to educate you in the arts befitting the Lady of one of the Noble Clans. We were fortunate to find you well-educated in most of them, but deprived in certain other sections. This is primarily because of your upbringing as the Head of a Clan, instead of the Lady. The Head always has a valet, or numerous assistants to choose the most appropriate outfit as befitting the occasion. For the Lady, however, it is another matter altogether."

Shizune's posture, if possible, got even stiffer. "As Lady, you are expected to uphold the reputation of your clan, and show the utmost grace, poise, and class. You may find it necessary to visit foreign lands to assist your husband in any way possible. While there, you are expected to behave with honour, to refrain from taking any action which would harm your clan. Sometimes, the members of other Houses may be adverse to you, and may even challenge you. If so, you are expected to accept the challenge, and in the manner befitting a Lady, show them that you are superior."

Hinata nodded slowly in understanding. Apparently the topic of Jiraiya's nudity was not going to be addressed at all. And so the lecture continued.

"The duties of a Lady are very different from that of the Head. You will forego all that you have learned 'til now. It is not your responsibility to negotiate, but rather to insure that the other party is sufficiently interested. You must support your husband's and your Clan's ideals at all times." Shizune held up a finger for emphasis. Hinata stared at that digit with all the attention as if it was a cobra that might bite her. "In these situations, the way you dress yourself is of utmost importance. You should not depend on your maids, for they may gossip, and then you will be ridiculed. Rather, your own sense of propriety, of class, should guide you when you endeavor to dress yourself. You must be very careful – a single mistake can lead to the failure of the whole plan. And that is where we will test you today."

The older lady strode over to the closet and swept the painted silk doors open, revealing a wealth of expensive fabrics on display inside. She turned about and fixed Hinata with a forbidding expression, every inch the heartless taskmistress.

"Today you will choose your own kimono to the meeting. Be careful to show appropriate modesty as befitting a young lady from an honourable clan, as well as considering the Uchiha colours, as they are your future family, while not forgetting the fact that you are a Hyuuga. You must remember that you are, for now, merely a visitor, and dress as such, but keep in mind that you are soon to be joined to them, and in a high position as well. Lastly, do remember your age, and dress in a manner that complements you and your youth." Shizune indicated back towards her cohort. "Jiraiya and I are here to judge you. Do not expect any help from us. If you are not able to succeed, then rest assured that you will never be a true Lady, merely a puppet on strings; easily manipulated, a weak and shameful creature. I hope for your sake that you may prove to have enough poise to pull it off. You may start now."

Hinata scrambled up, mind reeling with the weight of what she had just been told. Shizune's lecture had made her feel slightly dizzy, as well as awakening a fear of rejection in her abused brain. She walked like a sleepwalker to the doors to her enormous dressing room – it was, courtesy of Jiraiya, at least 8 times the size of her bedroom itself. Coming to life all of a sudden, she began feverishly flipping through the racks of kimonos, aware of two pairs of eyes watching her.

For several minutes the only sound was the slight shuffle of the dress stands. They all looked the same to her eyes. Panic started to cloud her mind as she attempted to find a kimono that would fulfill all of the qualities listed by Shizune, and she began to rifle through even faster. It was useless. It would take days to find such a kimono, if it existed, and by then she would already have failed – failed in so many things,and so many people. Like her family, her fiancé, the other chuunin, including her new trainer…

Suddenly, her fingers came in contact with a soft, silvery-gray kimono, and Hinata knew instantly that it was perfect. The gray symbolized her impending marriage, her 'coming to life' after waiting in the shadows, while the silver in it highlighted her elegant features, accentuating her pale eyes and skin and making it contrast against the dark indigo of her hair. The elegant fabric alluded to her high position, while the modest neck fulfilled it. A pattern of white spring leaves, outlined in black, displayed the union of the Uchiha and the Hyuuga, while the gold-trimmed embroidery complimented her youth, and the dark red outline sensually implied of things to come, the joining together of the two houses, and so much more.

Hopefully the young noble turned to show her two judges her choice, and was rewarded with a stunning smile, the first of its kind, from Shizune. The dark-haired woman stepped forward and put a hand on Hinata's cheek, glowing with pleasure. "Well done, Hinata-san! We are proud of you! To choose such an elegant kimono – you have truly proved your worth today, Hinata-sama."

There had been no time to savor the pride this statement had bestowed upon her. After that harrowing episode, Hinata had been plucked, polished, and tweezed until she was, in the words of Jiraiya himself, 'lookin' like one of those dolls they sell at those silly stores.'

Afterwards they had hurried through the house, as Shizune claimed it was getting late for her meeting, although she still had a good hour left. On the way, she had caught a glimpse of a very shirtless Neji, sweating as he was training. He may be her cousin, but Hyuuga Neji was definitely an attractive male, and Hinata had promptly blushed and fallen over. Which had caused a further delay, and turned Shizune from a simmering pot of hot water to an overboiling one.

Finally she had arrived at the Uchiha estate, only to find out that Uchiha Itachi was still unavailable, and would she like a cup of tea, please?

Now Hinata was sitting in a cool, steel-gray chamber blessed with a wide window, a fresh garden and a cool breeze, which would have been quite refreshing if not for the fact that Death herself was sitting in front of her.

Considering Uchiha Miyanami's stature, one would not call her intimidating. She was very short, barely 5 feet, and exceedingly plump. Her pink yukata stretched tight across her belly, and every breath she took came out as a wheeze. Looking at her, Hinata automatically put herself on alarm mode, because the woman looked like she was going to explode at any second.

But it was her expression and manners which made her terrifying. She was an ancient woman, having seen several generations of Uchiha go by, and her opinion was much valued. Her face was set into lines carved out of her face due to age, which were many in number, but always with the same expression – one of distaste. She did not like Hinata, and made no secret of it. Her manners and behavior, while exceedingly appropriate, could not be called courteous – there was always the hint of sarcasm, of a dislike that was out of place. Her eyes, too, beady and black, made no secret as to her intense disfavor towards the match, and Hinata had heard that she was quite vocal about it in her private time too.

If it was only herself who was targeted, perhaps it would not have been so bad. After all, she was used to adverse treatment from the various members of her family. But the woman also seemed to have a grudge against Itachi himself – she was somehow less subtle about her hatred for him, and often criticized him when he said or did something that was even remotely inappropriate in her eyes. It was discomfiting to see a man who was so obviously used to praise and favorable comments being treated the way he was now. Obviously Itachi was not used to it, and his reactions, although almost always nonexistent, sometimes revealed a fury that was visible to none but his future wife.

It scared Hinata sometimes, how easily she was able to read him. A few weeks into their meetings, she had been able to discern his moods; when he was frustrated, or angry, or when he wanted to say something but wouldn't. Itachi was the epitome of politeness, but she knew that he was itching to say more than the customary questions about tea and her life in general. He was frustrated, and in some strange twist of fate, she was too; for after all, weren't these meetings being held in the first place to achieve a new level of intimacy between them? They were supposed to get to know each other, to enjoy one another's presence, to act as a normal couple would. But the confines of their relationship, the awkwardness resulting from the fact that they were both forced, and their disagreeable chaperone made this nigh impossible to do.

It had surprised her when she had first detected such emotions in Itachi Uchiha. She knew that it was an awful thing to say, but she had assumed, like everyone else, that he would be comfortable in his status as village poster-boy. A playboy in all the meanings of the word; happy to be popular, handsome, and an arrogant, powerful young man who did not hesitate killing his own relatives. Reports from Naruto (who was, after all, quite close to his younger brother) had instilled the image of a quiet, deadly killing machine. The rumours that flew around the village about his acts in the ANBU did nothing to dispel this. He was, after all, a child prodigy, and heaven knew that to reach such a high position in shinobi ranking you had to be ruthless. Not to mention that he completely fit the bill – silent, brooding, with dark hair and eyes. Very intimidating, even if he did not mean to be. It was one of the original reasons why she had been adverse to him marrying Hanabi – she did not want her sister married to a man who had no qualms about killing somebody; a bloody, emotionless monster.

But Hinata's recent association with Itachi had almost completely changed her opinion. She could make out now that he was nothing like what the others said. She had first noticed it at the engagement, when she had seem how compassionate and polite he was, but had thought little of it, her beaten-in ability to doubt herself overwhelming such impressions. Surely her thoughts were nothing compared to the others? All of her friends insisted that he was a cold-blooded killer, so they must be right, and she herself mistaken.

However, the time she spent with him, although bereft of conversation, more than made up for it by character observation. While they sat silently, awkwardly under the hawk's-eye of Miyanami-san, she could not help but notice certain characteristics in his behavior which completely dispelled her previous biased version of him. Whatever anyone said, she was a very observant girl, long years of training in that very position with the Byakugan having significantly improved her natural ability.

Hinata saw the sad aura which seemed to emanate from him whenever he had come from a mission with a particularly bad ending or which had required the death of a person, Konoha citizen or otherwise. He seemed to dislike the topic of killing and fighting, preferring to steer to other classier subjects like art or poetry. She had been astonished at the proficiency he showed in literature, believing him to be a cocky, arrogant, ill-bred man, but his intelligence in those subjects disproved that. He was especially knowledgeable about different jutsus as well, often giving her advice, much to the displeasure of their chaperone.

But it was the non-verbal things which struck her the most. How he seemed to mentally flinch whenever Miyanami-san spoke disapprovingly to him, how he always obeyed her orders, and how he replied back with utmost courtesy, even if the old woman's speech was less than savory. He was quiet, but not in an arrogant, proud way – rather, he was quiet because there was nothing to say, or because he was struggling to gather his thoughts. He was so like a boy that way – clearly afraid of rejection, of disapproval, working so hard to earn the respect of someone who was so unpleasant.

It made her experience a tiny, fluttering feeling in her heart.

She could not help it – whenever she saw him so obviously in conflict with himself, she felt a strange urge to protect him, to help him, although she knew that he was probably much better at protecting himself and would resent her interfering anyway. Her heart fluttered whenever she saw him, and not in a good way. No, that wasn't true. It felt exceedingly right, so much so that it didn't feel right at all. His destined bride was scared as to where this was leading her, where it would take her. She had confided in no one except her sensei, and Kurenai had done nothing but pat her head lovingly and telling her that she was becoming a woman.

When Hinata had asked for specification on that answer, there had been none, so she had asked an old, trusted servant as to what Kurenai had meant, not divulging any details as to who she was talking about. The old woman had stared at her for a moment, and then asked her if she felt that way when she saw a boy.

Blushing, Hinata had replied in the affirmative.

The old woman had simply shaken her head and told her that she was falling in love.

But that couldn't be right, could it? It certainly didn't jive with Hinata's personal experience on the subject. This wasn't how love felt. She was in love with Naruto, or had been, anyways, and the feeling she got then was nothing like what she felt now. With Naruto, she had been craving for attention, for him to notice her, talk to her, be with her. It was an overwhelming need for approval, almost the same way that she felt when she was with her father.

With Itachi… it was completely different. It seemed like something inside her would just spark to life when she saw him, something that had been missing for a very long time. Whatever this was, it made her feel complete. She did not need him to notice her – she simply wanted to be there, in his presence, to be with him, support him, help him. She would have been happy to just exist in his vicinity, to be a fly on the wall; a small, unnoticed fly that had the honour of observing him. She felt as if she could be with him forever.

It scared her, the intensity with which her heart throbbed sometimes, more so because she couldn't place these feelings. It couldn't be love, because love was what she felt for Naruto, right? Friendship, too, was nothing like this, an observation made from spending many happy years with Kiba and Shino. Her brotherly affection for Neji, too, failed to fit the bill, and her scholarly appreciation for the elder shinobi in the village also could not accurately describe her feelings.

The only one who came even close to the mark was Uchiha Sasuke, the younger brother of her future husband.

Her relationship with Sasuke had grown more complex over the last few months. He had agreed to train her, out of compassion more or less, and Hinata was grateful for the fact that at least someone was there to help her win the fight against Hanabi. Time to train had been more available as her tri-weekly meetings with his elder brother were temporarily stalled due to an overload of missions. She had not seen Itachi after his last mission, in which he had been paired with Hatake Kakashi. Rumour was that both shinobi had been sent on another round as soon as they had reached the village, not even being able to come back home.

Sasuke was a good teacher, she had to admit. He was demanding and strong, but he pushed her limits like no one had done before, not even Kurenai, who for all her sweetness spent a lot of her time training Shino and Kiba. It felt nice to have someone so utterly focused on you and you alone. She enjoyed their meetings, the opportunity for conversation that presented itself being exceedingly exciting. He was at least as intelligent, if not more, as his brother. She had attempted to pay him for his services, but his reaction had prevented that, and she was almost out of her mind with gratitude.

Hinata was very thankful that some unseen outer force had finally decided to give her enough courage to ask him if he knew anyone who was willing to teach her, and lo and behold, he had agreed himself. She wondered what his reason was. After all, she was just another shinobi, a chuunin who worked in the hospital and seldom went on outside missions, one who had been among the countless people he had gone to school with, and of no more interest to him than for being his future sister-in-law.

That must be it – he must be trying to improve relations between them before her marriage, to make life a little bit easier for her. But…

A frown creased her face. He didn't know what he was training her for, did he? He had no idea that if she did indeed manage to win against Hanabi, then she would become the leader of her clan, and the marriage would be called off. Then there would be no familial relations between them, and no reason for him to continue training her.

She wondered if she should tell him. He had a right to know, after all. But if she did, then he would stop the training for sure. There was no reason, no motive for him to spend his time helping a girl who would never be anything more than a passing acquaintance for him. And then she would be alone once again, and even farther from her goal of defeating Hanabi than ever.

So Hinata chose to be selfish. She would not tell Sasuke that if she won the match then she would never be a part of his family. It hurt her to keep him in the dark like this, especially since he had been so honest and helpful to her, but it wasn't just her fate that hung in the balance – it was also Hanabi's.

If she lost the fight, if she admitted defeat, then Hanabi would become heir. And while any normal person would be delighted at the opportunity, Hanabi detested the very idea and feared it with an intensity that scared them both. Ever since her younger sister was born and their mother died, Hinata had felt a strange, protective, almost maternal urge towards her. It had risen from the fact that their gentle, loving mother was no longer there to protect and care for the helpless infant, already in the centre of such a ruthless political debate.

Now, eleven years later, Hinata still cared for her imotou-san. She knew that becoming heir would completely destroy Hanabi's fragile mind, already weakened by years of abuse from their father. Her treasured sibling would be gone forever, replaced by a mindless puppet who knew nothing save how to be used in a bid to gain power by those selfish, power-hungry money-mongers that were their elders.

Hinata would not, could not let that happen to her. Hanabi was her little sister, and she would do everything in her power to help her. Even if it meant deceiving a trusting man who wanted only to help, or forego her own life to be under the thumb of the very people she hated most.

The brooding maiden straightened, her sharp shinobi ears detecting the sound of a disturbance in the hallway. Someone was approaching the room. By the light step, almost soundless and undoubtedly that of a shinobi, she knew it was another ninja. But who? The walk was decidedly male, and strode towards the room without any overt suggestion of hesitation. Still Hinata could detect the slight turmoil, the reluctance.

It was without question Itachi-san.

She unconsciously smoothed her hair and the few wrinkles on her dress. The girl finished her last-minute preparations and looked up just as Itachi walked into the room.

He looked tired. His clothes clung to his body, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his face. And somehow, impossibly, Hinata felt her heart rate speed up. It started thumping at such a pace that she was surprised it did not stop due to exhaustion. I wonder if he can hear it?

Itachi made a very brusque greeting which she returned. He then poured out tea for them, and as he bent over, his shirt gaped open, revealing a lean, toned chest, the sight of which immediately sent a shock through her. Her heart went into overdrive.

Breathing as inconspicuously as she could, she accepted the cup of tea from his hands. What was wrong with her today? She had seen Jiraiya's chest, and Neji's chest, but none of them had incited such a reaction! It felt as though her body was on fire, and she could not draw her eyes away from him. Every movement held significance. How he was delicately holding his cup, the way one hand rose to brush his hair out of his eyes…

Okay, enough. Stop right there, Hyuuga Hinata. You are not going to wonder if his hair is soft, or if his fingers are callused, even though they are temptingly long and…

Hinata took a deep breath in, and then exhaled. Again, and again. Slowly. It's all okay. You're not going to panic. It's just a chest, and fingers. Even if they were the longest fingers she had ever seen, like a pianist's, and the chest was smooth and toned.

Oh, it was hopeless. She couldn't find the strength to look away. She would just have to settle for ogling as discreetly as she could.

Itachi cleared his throat. "I hope you have been well, Hinata-san."

"Q-Quite, thank you. I trust your mission went well."

He nodded. "Reasonably. The objective was achieved and no lives were lost. I hope my brother has not troubled the hospital since I have been gone?"

"No, Sasuke-san has not been to the hospital since the… incident… with Naruto-kun."

End of conversation.

Seems like this was going to be like just any other day.

Suddenly Itachi took a deep breath, seemingly making up his mind, and leaned forward across the table to grab her by the shoulders.

Uh-oh.

Jiraiya was lying back on a roof, snoozing, when he heard the sound of a shinobi approaching.

He cowered, hoping it was not Shizune. That woman could be scary when she was mad. She had taken offence to something he had said earlier in the day, which was actually complimentary, of all things. He had no idea why she would lose her temper when he so artfully praised her assets.

Anyway, the Tsunade-reincarnation had promptly beaten him up, ripping apart his shirt even, and then dragged him to the Hyuuga compound in that disreputable state. He had thought that it was the end of his life. The Hyuuga, it seemed, did not take kindly to having a half-naked man, even one as handsome as himself, on their grounds.

After spending a long morning with Hina-chan, he had been pushed out again, and had somehow, miraculously, managed to escape. Jiraiya wasn't sure about exactly what Shizune could have in mind, and that was never a good thing.

This was why he was very relieved when his protégée, Hatake Kakashi, was the one who landed on the roof.

Kakashi seemed excited today, almost bursting at the seams. He was jumping up and down like a little boy, and when Jiraiya raised an eyebrow, his pupil gave the wickedest laugh that he had ever heard.

Maybe this was Orochimaru in disguise?

Nope. This figure seemed to have a pulse.

"Jiraiya-sama," Kakashi giggled. "I have found a person worthy of entering the great P-Club!"

This was intriguing news. People worthy to join the exclusive P-Club were few and far between. Seeing Kakashi's excited demeanor, Jiraiya concluded that this new intern was definitely someone to be reckoned with.

"Well, don' keep me in the dark, Kakashi. Who is it?"

The silver-haired loafer looked like he had just taken something extremely illegal. "Uchiha Fugaku!"

Jiraiya felt himself deflate. "Uchiha Fugaku? Honestly, Kakashi, I expected better of you. Don't you know that the man doesn't have a passionate cell in his body? He's got a stick so far up his arse it's in his brain! He wouldn't notice an attractive woman if she was naked in front of him!"

Kakashi shook his head. "That's what I thought, Jiraiya-sama! But recent events have proved that we are wrong! Uchiha Fugaku has revealed his worth using a very valuable tool – his own son, Uchiha Itachi!"

That caused his interest to spark anew. "Continue," he said, waving his arm regally, the way he had seen King what's-his-name on that TV soap.

"He has set up 'special meetings' for his son with Hinata Hyuuga! Apparently, they are to 'get to know each other better', to hurry up the process of making an heir!"

Jiraiya felt himself sag once again. He wasn't an inflatable balloon, damn it! "So what?" he said dully.

"So don't you get it? Making an heir! He's gonna lock them both in a room which is secluded, with nobody around, and tell them to get to know each other better, so that they can 'produce an heir'? The funniest thing is, I never would have found out if Itachi-san hadn't told me."

Jiraiya felt a sinking sensation in the bottom of his stomach. "What?"

Kakashi was positively exuberant by now. "Poor Itachi didn't even know what to do. He asked me on our mission, and I gave him some tips on how to seduce her, and what to do after that, during their next meeting!"

"WHAT?

So...

The P-Club stands for the Pervert Club, in case you were wondering. Or, as Jiraiya wishes, the Passionate Club.

And that's it for tonight, folks! And my Bugs Bunny impression. Review is my siren call!