project: fifty days
disclaimer: i do not own naruto, or the characters in it.
summary: "in fifty days, uchiha sasuke will be executed." for fifty days, she will visit him. for fifty days, he will fall steadily in love.
pairings: sasuhina, some naruhina
notes1: "i just looked at the amount of reviews and thought this is so incredible. when i say i love you guys, i really love you guys"
notes2: "okay, so i threw in a bit of shikasaku"
chapter: o9/5o
Hinata woke up in time to watch the sunset.
She had been woken by a rustling from outside of her tent; instantly on her guard, she had snatched a kunai to her side, slowly sitting up. Her eyes had flickered from side to side, but she had let herself relax. If it were anything big, Shino or Kiba would be awake, and they were both extremely noisy when it came to combat—Kiba with his random battle-cries and taunts, Shino with his constant buzzing. She unzipped her sleeping bag carefully, rolled onto her side, and slid out of the tent.
As far as she could tell, neither of her teammates was awake. Outside of Kiba's tent lay Akamaru, who glanced up sleepily at her, crossing and re-crossing his paws. She offered him a tiny smile, before walking steadily in the direction of the rustling, making sure to remain as quiet as possible, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. It wasn't coming from too close to the camp, as far as she could tell, and she realised she had only been hearing it faintly.
She paused momentarily, only to disable the jutsu Shino had put up earlier; chakra strings, feebly made, but they weren't really needed altogether that much. The idea was that the enemy would disable the strings, just as she had done, but then trip the thin metal wires just behind it. And, if they decided not to disable the chakra strings, the bugs on either end would alert Shino within seconds, before the enemy could even begin to attack. If she tripped either trap now, she would only cause her teammates trouble.
She continued onwards, curious, careful not to step on any leaves or snap any branches; she kept her kunai by her side, ready to raise it and use it, if absolutely necessary. She ducked underneath a particularly low hanging branch, pushed aside a bush, and then stumbled into a clearing. It took her breath away. Opposite her was a small pool of clear water, reflecting the stars above her, surrounded by green and pretty flowers. Only once, when she was a Genin, had she seen something as beautiful; and she had trained there, practising her techniques.
…that had also been the same time when she had decided to train naked, in a waterfall, and Naruto had spotted her.
The very memory brought a blush to her cheeks. She flapped one hand, suddenly aware of the fact that she was still in her teddy-bear pyjamas. The rustling noise intensified, and she dropped into a defensive crouch, serious again; she peered around her, into the undergrowth, searching for whatever was making the noise. A movement across the pool caught her eye, and she turned slowly to face it, waiting for whatever was there to appear.
There was a moments longer of rustling, and then she could make out a figure—not a person, definitely not. An animal, as far as she could tell. She squinted slightly, relaxing completely; it looked like a deer. She smiled, watching as the deer drank cautiously from the water, before shooting upright, glancing around it, and then disappearing back into the forest behind it.
Hinata waited a moment, before crossing over to the pool and kneeling beside it. It really was beautiful, she decided, the way the stars seemed to swim in the water before her—if she tried, she could convince herself that, by dipping her hand into the water, she could scoop out a star. The idea of cupping such a brilliant thing in her hands, watching as it's glow seeped out between her fingers...
She shivered.
Such daydreams were unbecoming of a kunoichi on a mission. In fact, straying away from the camp, just to track a deer, was pretty stupid too. She straightened, hugging her hands around her body and feeling foolish. She was awake now, but she would certainly be tired later; she should have wrapped up her little adventure quicker.
She turned away, the kunai dangling uselessly by her side, walking stiffly back to the camp; there was no way she'd be able to return to her sleep now—she was far too awake. She pushed aside a few branches and stumbled into the camp, careful to enable the jutsu again, once she was within the camp's boundaries. Then she staggered over to her tent, stopping briefly to pet Akamaru, and nestled inside.
She let her mind wander.
Her first thought, surprisingly, was of Sakura. Two days ago, the girl had been completely distraught; she had been panicked and upset and confused, and all because of Uchiha Sasuke. Hinata should have been more soothing, no doubt; she should have gone to a greater length to reassure her, at least. But it had been so infuriating. She'd been so close.
With a few words, Sakura had almost believed there was a chance; a chance she could help Sasuke, a chance she could see Sasuke, a beautiful, blinding chance. She had believed the idea was possible, and so it had been possible, for a few brief moments. That was all it would have taken. But her face had fallen, and she had given up.
She had given up.
Hinata had said it then: "I h—hate people who give up."
It was true; she loathed those who gave up without even trying. At first, she had come up with excuses; excuse after excuse after excuse. Then she had seen Naruto—she had seen a poor orphaned boy, hated by the entire village, go from being nothing to everything. She had seen his smile, every day of every week, no matter the weather. She had seen his bright blue eyes, always sparkling, always shining and never dull.
She had decided then that she hated those who gave up, but she had been unable to stop herself from doing such a thing. She still gave up now. It had been hypocritical of her to say such a thing to Sakura, and she could not help but wonder whether it had really helped.
She hoped so.
Her thoughts strayed briefly to Neji, as she wondered how he was keeping. She hadn't said goodbye to him, despite the fact that she always did, even when he had hated her. Sometimes she hadn't spoken the words—sometimes it had been more of an action—but she had always done it. She wondered if he was worried.
She wriggled in the tent, tugging her sleeping bag tightly around herself and then crawling towards the entrance. She unzipped it, leaning outwards so that she could see her surroundings, and found her gaze instantly drawn towards the sky. The night was fading, and quickly. Dawn was coming. She sat in silence, watching as the sky grew lighter, and as clouds drifted aimlessly ahead. She could see clearly now; she could see the sun rising steadily, at first half a circle, melted into the ground, it's rays seeping into the sky like a spreading stain.
Then it rose higher, and it became a fiery orange ball, no longer appearing to touch the earth below it. It burned red and yellow.
She sighed softly.
"It's pretty, isn't it?"
Hinata practically jumped out of her skin, letting out a soft squeal and shrinking back into her sleeping bag. Slightly to her left, Kiba chuckled—to her right, Shino simply didn't make a sound. The two of them didn't seem tired; Kiba was constantly arching and stretching, rubbing the back of his neck and cracking joints, but otherwise he seemed absolutely fine.
She stared sheepishly at them. "I... I didn't wake you, d—did I?"
"Oh, what, with your stomping about and all your rustling?" Kiba replied, grinning wolfishly. Hinata let out a soft groan in response, and he laughed again. "I've got pretty good ears, Hinata. Granted, I have a better sense of smell, but still; good ears."
"I'm so s—sorry," she apologised, aware of her bed-hair and the fact that she appeared to be dressed in only a sleeping bag.
Kiba flapped his hands in response, squatting down beside her and falling silent; Shino, once again, made no attempt to speak, but she was certain he was rolling his eyes. She felt her cheeks heat up and she wanted nothing more than to bury her head in her sleeping bag. Then her eyes flickered upwards once more, and she found herself captured by the sunrise; not quite as beautiful as a sunset, but just as magical.
A new day.
One less day.
Her mind strayed back to Sasuke, but she pushed the thought away. She had plenty of time—heaps of it. She would write him a letter and buy him a souvenir. She would visit him for more than an hour. She would do whatever she had to, to make it up to him. Everything would turn out okay.
"This is what I live for, y'know?" Kiba said, suddenly, and his voice startled her out of her thoughts. "These little moments. Watching the sunrise with my two best friends. And Akamaru."
A feeling of warmth spread through Hinata, making her blush and smile and want to cry all at once. She had never once thought of how much she truly loved Kiba and Shino—she had never once thought of how much she truly cared for them. They had been through so much together, and now they were a part of her.
She thought of Sasuke and Naruto, and knew that she would both know what it was like to have such a bond, and still never know.
Beside her, Shino nodded his agreement.
Hinata's smile turned into a full blown grin.
"This is what I live for."
.
.
Sakura tied back her hair, to keep it out of her face, and then clipped back any stray pieces with a plain red grip. She tugged her gloves onto her hands, snapping them into place, and then slipped into a defensive stance; without a second of hesitation, she flipped forwards, feeling the chakra surging towards her fist. She swung, almost wildly, and her blow connected with thin air.
Her opponent had ducked.
He rolled away, swiftly, straightening into his usual slouch, and she scowled, chasing after Shikamaru. He let out a groan of annoyance, his hands forming a jutsu quicker than she would have imagined—and his shadow began to stretch and grow. Sakura's scowl darkened; it should be easy, then. All she'd have to do was stay out of the shadows.
She neared, leaping into the air and bringing her fist into the ground in the exact spot he had been standing on; but he had already thrown himself out of the way, and his shadow was already swarming to where she would fall. She braced herself, searching for a way out; then a small smile stretched over her face.
She laced more chakra into her fists, and brought her second one down to meet the first.
The ensuing explosion—because that was all she could think of it as—was truly incredible. The ground beneath her gave way; debris flew into the air, high above her head. For a few seconds, she lost Shikamaru's shadow; and, for a few seconds, Shikamaru lost her.
When the dust cleared, Sakura was already gone.
No doubt Shikamaru had planned for that, however, and she found herself darting out of the reach of various shadows. She spotted him racing alongside her, his fingers flying as he did so, and she wasn't certain as to whether any of her actions were her own. She skidded to a stop, and he did the same opposite her. She slipped a kunai out of her pocket, and Shikamaru did likewise. His lips formed a lobsided grin.
"Do you really want to do that, Sakura?" He murmured, raising the kunai as she did the same. "The results would only be troublesome."
"It's a bluff," she replied, and then she moved.
Her kunai met Shikamaru's in the air, directly in the middle of the two; but she didn't care, as she was already slipping a summoning scroll out of her pocket. She saw her opponent swear softly, watched as he threw one kunai lazily at her and then flipped backwards, towards safety. She dodged the kunai, spread the scroll through the air, and bit her thumb, swiping it across the scroll. The scroll vanished and, in her hands, appeared an oversized axe, about twice her size.
Shikamaru mumbled a troublesome, before instantly throwing himself backwards as the axe was brought crashing down to the earth, just a few steps away from him. The destruction was massive; the ground beneath him shifted and cracked. He judged the radius of destruction to be about five meters around the axe, when used with simple brute strength. However, Sakura was smart, much like him; there had to be more to the axe.
Then he felt it—a slight shift in his chakra. His shadows retreated some distance, unable to sustain their length and, for a moment, he felt out of control. His hands flipped quickly, forming a jutsu, but nothing happened.
His eyes met Sakura's. "...ah. That's interesting."
"Isn't it, though?" Sakura beamed at him, dragging the axe along behind her; whether it was because it was too heavy (unlikely), or because she needed to keep it touching the ground (more likely), Shikamaru wasn't sure.
"Tsunade taught you it?"
"Of course," she rolled her eyes. "You know what it does, right?"
He nodded. Yes, he definitely knew, all right. As long as the axe stayed in contact with the ground, his shadows became useless—to make his jutsu's work, Shikamaru had to lace a certain amount of chakra into his shadows. The axe, when making contact with the ground, appeared to disable chakra, within the five metre radius; or, at least, make it extremely difficult to control. It was taking all of his concentration just to release the jutsu, as well as to think of a counterattack.
Luckily, he was spared the effort. At that moment, Ino appeared, waving her hands and shouting for Sakura, saying something about lunch—and Sakura hesitated and turned, for just a second too long.
Shikamaru darted forwards, keeping as close proximity as possible; that way, Sakura wouldn't be able to swing her axe, and it would become more of a hindrance than a help. He kept tight against her, before launching his entire weight at her; perhaps it was a reckless move on his behalf, because Sakura's eyes widened and she flailed, falling backwards with him straddling her. Quick as a flash, he pinned both of her hands above her, tugging a kunai out of his pocket and holding it warily against her neck.
There was a moment of silence, in which they both surveyed each other. Shikamaru took that moment to wonder why she had even asked to spar with him; he had only agreed because it had been such a surprising request. Sakura very rarely spoke to him, unless it was for strategy advice, or some other mission-related nonsense; she didn't speak to him outside of her work, and she never asked to spar against him, perhaps because their abilities were so mismatched. And yet, that morning, she had knocked on his door, smiled sheepishly at him, and then demanded he spar against her.
She'd seemed different, then; upset. He couldn't blame her, of course; her best friend, and teammate, had, after all, been imprisoned. She had been depressed for a full week, much longer than Naruto—and when she had asked to spar, she had seemed unsure and confused.
He noticed, blankly, that she was raising an eyebrow at him.
He rolled his eyes and let go of her wrists—a bad move, on his behalf. Within moments, Sakura had grabbed hold of both of his hands, switching their positions but entangling their legs. She beamed down at him, triumphant, and he yawned pointedly.
He should have predicted that.
He'd been distracted.
He let his eyes close, momentarily, and he would have napped then and there, had Ino's scream not startled him so greatly. He glared crossly at her, but she ignored him; she was busy pointing, clapping her hands together and shrieking about how they looked so cute. At that, Sakura shot off him in a flash, chakra surging dangerously towards her hands, her infamous temper sparked, and the two girls began to argue loudly about nothing.
Shikamaru placed a hand on his head, mumbled underneath his breath, and then began to stagger to his feet. A gloved hand closed on his right shoulder, and a pale, flawless hand closed on the other, and he was practically thrown into the air by the two girls; Sakura flashed him an apologetic grin, but Ino ignored him completely, and he rolled his eyes.
How troublesome.
"You know what, Sakura? You can take Shikamaru for lunch, since you love him so much!" Ino snapped, before swishing her hair and stalking away; both Shikamaru and Sakura rolled their eyes because Ino was a terrible actress and apparently a wannabe matchmaker.
Sakura smiled sheepishly at him.
He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Is ramen okay? That's all I can afford at the moment."
She nodded, walking slightly ahead of him. He followed her, walking with a slouch, occasionally letting her correct his posture, because apparently it made her feel better. She rambled about everything, talking first about Naruto, then her training, then the hospital, but being extra careful not to mention Sasuke. He noted this carefully. Eventually she realised he had not said a single thing, and accused him of sleepwalking—this resulted in her hitting him across the head just outside of Ichiraku, before he finally decided to respond.
He made sure not to talk about Sasuke, at all.
.
.
Hinata shrank down into her seat, trying to be as small as possible, and feeling overwhelmed and ridiculously embarrassed. They had found the nobleman far too early; despite the specific request of the Hokage, the man had left his hotel, claiming it was far too rundown and poor for him. He had gone drinking, with a group of his close colleagues—she didn't have to have a nose like Kiba's to smell the stench of alcohol on him—and, after a while of asking around, they had found him in a seedy little bar, his arms wrapped around a blonde girl and a curvaceous dark-skinned woman.
She wrinkled her nose, and noticed both Shino and Kiba stiffen beside her. She felt uncomfortable stood in front of the nobleman, watching him scrutinize her; the lights were far too dim, and the place was filled with only men. She crossed her arms self-consciously over her chest.
"Daisuke?" Kiba asked, stepping forwards and taking charge; the man's eyes flicked quickly to him, and then back to Hinata. "You are Ichiro Daisuke, right?"
He inclined his head, and she could not help but wonder whether he was anywhere near as drunk as she had thought he was. He wobbled slightly, sure, and his speech was slurred, but his eyes were cold and calculating.
"We are the Konoha shinobi, sent to guard you on your way home," Kiba continued, barely hiding his irritation; not only was the letch staring at Hinata, in such a hungry manner, but he was also completely ignoring Kiba. He rapped his knuckles on the table in front of them, and the blonde girl giggled. "We told you to stay at your hotel, sir."
"And I am not a child for you to order around, shinobi," Daisuke replied evenly, choosing not to look at who he was speaking to; instead, he turned towards the blonde girl and cupped her cheek with one hand, letting go of the darker girl. For a few seconds, Hinata felt sick—the girl looked to be a year or so younger than her.
"It was for your own safety," Kiba snapped, his voice rising slightly.
"I am perfectly capable of caring for myself," he murmured, stroking the girl's face; the girl shivered, in exaggerated pleasure, and let out a soft moan. "You need a drink, shinobi; you need to relax."
Hinata nudged Kiba sharply with her elbow, before he could even open his mouth to speak; his eyes flickered over to her, he nodded, and then fell silent. She wondered distantly how Akamaru was, stood outside—and then she stepped forwards, bowing curtly. The nobleman let go of his blonde companion, choosing instead to stare at Hinata, and the girl let out an irritated keening noise.
Hinata ignored it.
"I do not d—doubt you are capable of such things, s—sir," she began, attempting to calm both parties as she spoke. "And my teammate did not m—mean to offend you in a—any way; he was merely w—worried, as were we all, when w—we could not find you. We shall take your a—advice and relax, if you w—wouldn't mind."
"Not at all," Daisuke murmured, his amusement evident in his voice, his eyes still trained on Hinata. "There is always space for more at my table. Did you know you have beautiful eyes, kunoichi?"
She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She didn't reply. Kiba brushed past her, grumbling underneath his breath, and sat down a distance away from the blond girl—Shino squeezed her arm gently as he passed, before sitting down next to the dark-skinned woman, who instantly moved up to him. He gazed impassively down at her, as she latched onto his arm, leaning forwards as to show a greater amount of cleavage; opposite him, Kiba snorted.
Hinata sat down next to Kiba, opposite Daisuke, as the nobleman gestured for an extra round of drinks.
Kiba leaned forwards, drawing a scroll out of his pocket and placing it down on the table, making sure to still keep a somewhat loose grip on it. "We need to talk about the treaty, sir," he murmured, leaning forwards and keeping his voice to a whisper. "It cannot wait."
Hinata sighed. She hated treaty missions; it was Konoha's bribe. Generally, it was only offered to rich noblemen, in return for certain necessary items—for example, Daisuke was the son of a wealthy weapon's trader. In return for an unlimited supply of items, they would be offered protection from their enemies, as well as other such luxuries. He didn't deserve it. Looking at the blonde girl at his side—considering her age—oh, he definitely didn't deserve it. Hinata peered at the girl, attempting to show her sympathy and expecting to see sadness in her eyes; but, despite her no doubt erotic movements, her eyes were alert, and trained on Kiba.
She frowned slightly, a feeling of unease washing over her; her eyes flickered over to the dark-skinned girl, and was surprised to see that she too was peering at Kiba. Her frown deepened, and Hinata placed her hand on top of Kiba's, drawing the scroll back towards her; she kept her eyes trained on the two women, searching for a reaction.
"Now is not the t—time or the place, K—Kiba."
Kiba's eyebrows shot upwards, but he said nothing as he pocketed the treaty. Daisuke clapped loudly, his voice obnoxious and arrogant. "Here, here, kunoichi."
She offered the nobleman a shaky smile, but could not help feeling suspicious. It certainly was odd. Daisuke had been given strict instructions to stay within the hotel, and he had made it absolutely clear that he planned on following those rules, as well. He had seemed obedient, when talking with Tsunade; obedient, but greedy. Greedy for everything; riches, wine, food and women.
Hinata scanned the first girl—the blonde girl she had felt so sorry for earlier. After a second, closer scrutiny, it seemed highly unlikely that she was a prostitute; her stomach was too toned and she didn't seem hungry at all. Her face wasn't gaunt either, although, it was plastered in make-up. The girl reached for her drink, and Hinata caught her hand; their eyes met. Hinata smiled shyly at her, before leaning forwards and inspecting her nails. "Your nails are so p—pretty, miss," she mumbled, offering another small smile. "And they're so l—long, too."
The girl smiled back at her, her red lips stretching into a wide grin. "Aren't you just a darling, kunoichi?" She said, and, for a moment, Hinata thought she was going to pinch her cheek; then she pulled her hand away from Hinata's and scooped up her drink.
Hinata reached for her own drink, picking it up but making no move to drink some, as she thought. The girl's hands had been soft, yes, but the tips of her fingers had been calloused, almost as though she had spent a few days scrubbing the dead, hard skin. It was a common practise for kunoichi who wished to work undercover, as normal women. And her nails—yes, they had been long, but covered in faint scratches, which showed she often did hard work. Without activating her byakugan, she couldn't confirm her suspicions, but she had reason to believe that the two prostitutes were undercover shinobi.
She frowned. It didn't make sense. There were plenty of weapon traders; if another village had wanted Daisuke, they would have simply acted quicker. There would have been no need to send shinobi in undercover; all they would have had to do was offer a healthy bribe. Which meant that there was either more to the treaty, or more to Daisuke. She glanced briefly at Shino, who was attempting to untangle himself from the dark-skinned assassin, and then nudged Kiba.
He blinked at her. "Yeah?"
"C—can I look at the treaty, p—please?" She murmured, keeping her voice low; Kiba paused a moment, staring at her, before handing it over with a shrug.
"Sure, I guess," he answered, keeping his voice low to match hers, and handing the scroll over; Hinata noticed the darker assassin watching her, but attempted not to show it. She didn't want them to know she knew.
"Keep an eye on D—Daisuke and his friends," Hinata murmured, before smiling cheerily at the nobleman. "I'll be b—back in a second. I'm just going to the r—restroom."
Daisuke nodded, waving her away with one hand—and, had she been anyone else, she would have felt furious at such an arrogant dismissal, but, instead, she simply ignored it. She was well aware of eyes on her back during her entire journey to the restroom, and felt that her suspicions had been justified, if not confirmed. She pushed open the door, glanced once over her shoulder, and saw the blonde girl untangling herself from Daisuke, obviously on her way over as well. Hinata narrowed her eyes, pushed open the door and slipped inside; then she waited a moment, watched as someone left, and then followed that person, shifting her jacket off and keeping her head down low as she did so. She rummaged into her pockets, pulled out various weapons as well as an old ring, and then caught up with the person in front of her—a young woman, a bit older than her.
"H—hi," She said, waving with one hand and offering a smile; the woman raised an eyebrow before smiling tentatively back. "I'm s—sorry, but I think you l—left this in the restroom."
She offered the ring out. The woman took it slowly, examining it. The blonde girl brushed past Hinata and marched into the restroom. The woman shook her head. "…no, that's not mine."
"Isn't it? I'm s—sorry for disturbing you," Hinata replied, keeping her voice even, and stepped out into the crowd, making sure to stay away from her table; she searched briefly for an empty table, found none, and then made her way over to a table with a man sat on it, nursing a bottle of sake. She stopped in front of it, and flashed him a smile. "Is anyone s—sitting here?"
He shook his head, obviously overjoyed at some female attention; Hinata sat down and he moved closer. She slipped the scroll from her pocket, ignoring him, and began to read. Her eyes scanned the page once for anything which really leapt out at her, found nothing, and then she read as quickly as she could through the treaty; there was nothing at all that different. Just the usual stuff, really; in return for unlimited supplies, they would be offered luxuries and protection, unless the character was an S-ranked criminal or some other kind of murderer. By the time she had finished, she was no wiser as to why there were assassins after Daisuke and she had a drunk old man practically sat in her lap.
She smiled sweetly at him, told him thanks, but no thanks, and made her way back to her table. She pulled her jacket back on, and sat down; the blonde girl was back, and she fixed Hinata with a pointed stare. "I thought you were in the restrooms."
"I was."
"I didn't see you."
"You m—must have missed me."
Kiba wrinkled his nose delicately—obviously he could smell the booze and sweat of the old man she'd sat by earlier—but he said nothing, and she was grateful. She wasn't a genius, not like Shikamaru or Sakura or even Shino—and she didn't have Naruto's, or Kiba's, reckless outbursts. She didn't act on impulses; or, if she did, she didn't do it often.
Apparently, now was one of those occasions when she did act.
"Daisuke, would you l—like to buy me a drink?"
.
.
Ibiki didn't often meet with the Hokage and, when he did, he knew it wasn't for the nicest reasons. They only ever met to discuss prisoners, or various different ways of extracting information from those prisoners. More recently, however, they met simply to discuss Sasuke, and his relationship with Hinata; Tsunade had wondered if there was any way they could exploit that relationship, without hurting Hinata.
There were none.
But the information was needed, and they had to get it somehow, and so Tsunade had recruited Hinata as a sort of backup plan. Ibiki crossed his arms and peered at the blonde woman, uncertain of what she wanted to know this time; she leaned across her desk and stared at him, her fingers touching in front of her. She sat in silence for some time, before finally speaking.
"Is there any way the information could be extracted from the Uchiha using the Yamanaka bloodline?"
"Perhaps, Lady Hokage; but you would have to use Inoichi, as opposed to his daughter, Ino," Ibiki replied evenly. "His talent far exceeds hers. However, the Uchiha is much stronger than we believe. There is every chance that Inoichi's talents will not help, when it comes to him. We should still try it."
"Indeed," Tsunade agreed, her eyes flickering upwards to meet Ibiki's. "Make sure he's free tomorrow. Hinata will be away then. We'll see what we can find."
"Yes, Lady Tsunade."
.
.
Hinata sat opposite Daisuke, nursing a drink of something alcoholic in one hand and clutching his hand with the other. She'd never really been good at the entire seduction technique, despite the fact that it often came in useful as a Hokage—rather, Kurenai had said she should simply be herself. Apparently most men were attracted to Hinata's shy and naïve character; it was cute, as Kurenai had put it.
Certainly, Daisuke seemed attracted enough. She should have been flattered, really, but the man was a pervert, and it was rather putting her off. She didn't bother with any of the fluttering her eyelashes nonsense; that was for girls like Ino to pull off, not her. Instead, she picked up her drink and took a tiny sip. It made her eyes water. She flapped one hand, before laughing nervously and pointing at her drink. "How s—strong is this?"
He chuckled in response. "Probably not strong enough."
Automatically, she laughed, and took another tiny sip, despite the fact that it burnt her throat. Even so, she very rarely got drunk—it took her a few sips to actually get used to the taste and then, much like her cousin, she could drink for as long as she wanted. Not that she did such things often. In fact, she only drank rarely, and normally only if Kiba was involved. She placed the cup back on the table and leaned forwards, gripping Daisuke's hand a bit tighter. She'd have said something about him watching her, but she decided they were well past flirting, and she was just going to have to get on with it.
"Those two g—girls in there, Daisuke—where did you meet them?" She asked, her voice completely serious and her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Jealous, are you, kunoichi?" He drawled, lifting one finger to trace her lips; Hinata didn't flinch, and instead stared coolly at him, waiting for an answer. He heaved a dramatic sigh, removing his finger, and began to speak. "Fine, then. I was waiting at the hotel, as you said, when two beautiful women—" He paused briefly, to see if his words had any effect on the girl in front of him; when they didn't, he continued. "—stopped by my hotel room. They told me they were presents, and I assumed they were from Konoha, kunoichi, so I accepted them. Why do you look so surprised?"
"You assumed Konoha would s—send you prostitutes?"
Daisuke raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Evidently, you do not take part in this treaty nonsense often. Most villages send something, or someone, to seal the deal. A pretty little kunoichi." He sneered. "Much like yourself."
Hinata narrowed her eyes, and pulled her hand away; her eyes flickered back towards the table Kiba and Shino were sat at, both of them attempting to entertain the two women. Then she let herself smile. "What if I were to t—tell you, sir, that the two w—women you thought were prostitutes sent by Konoha, were actually assassins, sent by one of your e—enemies?" Her smile widened. "Would you let the p—pretty little kunoichi save you?"
He glanced towards the table, much as she had done. She watched closely for every little detail; his face had paled, his knuckles had whitened and he had visibly tensed. His eyes flickered backwards and forwards, before finally meeting Hinata's steady gaze. His voice was dry and raspy. "What… what do you want to know?"
"Why w—would someone want to kill you?" She murmured, leaning forwards and clasping his hand again; his other hand went straight to his drink.
"You're asking the wrong question, kunoichi."
She narrowed her eyes again. "Is now r—really time for games, D—Daisuke?" When she didn't get a response, she sighed and tried again. "Who would w—want to kill you?"
"Much better," Daisuke murmured, lifting his drink to his lips and downing it in one. He placed the empty glass on the table. "My father. My father would definitely want to kill me."
"Why?"
"I won't lie to you, kunoichi," he continued, as though she hadn't spoken. "After all, you're going to keep me alive, right? My father… my father was the one who agreed to this treaty. I disagreed greatly. However, when the offer came, and my father accepted, I sent a second letter to Konoha, saying that I was going to sign the treaty, not my father. I arranged the date to be a few days early. I set off with a small group of friends and said I was going drinking. My father did not suspect anything. Obviously, now he has realised—my father always was an impulsive man. No doubt he planned to kill me for betraying him."
As he spoke, Hinata noted every single action; the fact that he had first assured her he would not lie, the fact that he could not meet her gaze, the fact that he had tensed as he was speaking and then relaxed afterwards.
"You said you w—wouldn't lie," Hinata murmured, "But I still w—want the truth. The whole truth."
Daisuke looked up, before scowling; momentarily, his little mask slipped. He looked furious. Then he calmly rearranged his features into a grim smile. "Of course. I should have expected you to realise, kunoichi; you're much smarter than you look. There were two reasons as to why I was going to disagree to the treaty, the first being the one I just said. The second was…"
Hinata raised a hand. She didn't need him to say it; she'd figured it out. All she'd really needed to know was the fact that there were two reasons, not just one. "You don't h—have any weapons to trade with us, d—do you? You lost the business."
He nodded. "I was gambling."
"How did I g—guess?"
"You'll help me, won't you?" Daisuke murmured, gripping her hand tightly and bringing it closer to his chest. Hinata peered at him once, before smiling kindly; no longer did she see the arrogant, bratty nobleman she had seen before. Perhaps it was her ability to see the goodness in everyone, but the man in front of her suddenly seemed humble and vulnerable. He needed help.
"That's my j—job," Hinata replied, before standing up and beckoning for him to do the same. "Firstly, you'll have to d—dismiss the two women; pretend you n—no longer need their services, or w—whatever. You mustn't stumble over your w—words or hesitate; if you do, they'll r—realise you know, and we'll get dragged into a f—fight. We're going to l—leave and head into the forest, where we c—can set up camp. I'll tell my teammates what's h—happening along the way. You can think of a s—suitable apology for your father."
Daisuke nodded. "You're a nice girl, kunoichi."
"S—stop calling me that," she murmured absently, leading him back towards the table. "My name's Hinata. And my f—friends are Kiba and S—Shino."
They stopped beside the table; Kiba was desperately trying to fend off the blonde girl, who was practically clambering on top of him, whereas Shino had given up completely, and was letting the darker girl do whatever she wanted. His glasses were resting on the table, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was set in a grim line. Upon hearing Hinata's approach, he snatched his sunglasses up and turned to her. He glanced from Hinata to Daisuke, nodded once, and stood up, startling the girl who'd been practically molesting him out of her wits. Daisuke stepped forwards, grabbed Kiba's drink and downed it in one.
"Come on, shinobi—Kiba," he corrected himself, before gesturing to the two women. "Goodbye, ladies; your services were much appreciated, but we no longer need you, I'm afraid. Although, these two boys appear to have had their fun."
Shino didn't respond—Kiba spluttered indignantly and would have continued to do so, had Shino not stood on his foot.
"W—we should head back to the h—hotel, before it gets too d—dark," Hinata said carefully, before smiling bashfully at the two women and inclining her head. "It was n—nice meeting you."
The blonde girl waggled one hand.
"Goodbye, kunoichi. We'll be seeing you."
.
.
A letter arrived for Sasuke at exactly two 'o' clock in the morning. It was stamped urgent, and sent by the fastest postman around. He handed it to Ibiki, who gave it to the Hokage, who read it to Sasuke half an hour later.
.
.
Dear Sasuke,
I don't suppose the ANBU told you, but I did say I would write, so here you are, with a letter from me. Once again, I have to beg you to forgive me—forgive me for going back on my promise. No doubt you're laughing and nodding your head, because it was a foolish promise, I'll admit that much. There was no way I would be able to visit you every single day, for an hour. I have a responsibility to my village. I would tell you about the mission, but this letter will probably already have been read and edited. I suppose you should be able to know that the mission is nothing more than [THIS INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED]; the kind of mission you'd have finished in around a day, probably.
I'm not sure what to write about, now that I'm sat here with my pen and paper. I don't often write letters. I tried once, during our academy years—we were in the same class, so you probably had to do the same thing. We had to write a letter to a penpal in a different village. I remember I wrote mine to a girl named Miki; she's a Chunnin now, in [THIS INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED]. She told me she never wanted to be a kunoichi, so I suppose we were alike back then. Can you remember who you wrote to?
Now that I think about it, I doubt you can remember me, even from our academy years. I never spoke in class, unless I was called on. Actually, neither did you. I remember once, Iruka asked you for an answer, and you didn't reply—you were staring out of the window. I think you were watching the cherry blossoms fall. I used to do the same thing. Except, you were so cool when you had to answer; you asked him to repeat the question and then told him the answer, cool as ice. Whenever he picked on me and I wasn't listening, I'd jump a foot in the air and stutter so badly Iruka would just move on, with a little sympathetic smile. I like to think I don't stutter as much now, but a man told me I had nice eyes recently, and I couldn't reply.
I get tongue-tied so easily. I bet you've never once been speechless, right? I know you don't talk much. We're like that when it comes to talking, though you wouldn't have guessed from this letter. I never liked talking much either, but that was because I always felt so insignificant. I wonder why you never spoke. Everyone wanted to speak to you. But sometimes, you just never replied.
I'll have to go now. Kiba keeps peeking over my shoulder and trying to see who I'm writing to, which means I keep smudging the page in my haste to hide this letter. It's not that I'm ashamed! It's just, no one's allowed to know I see you. Believe me, if I could tell people, I would. [THIS INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED] have so many questions to ask you. We all do.
I will only be gone for a few more days. The mission may have taken a few unexpected twists and turns, but it should be over quickly. The moment I return, I will talk to you. I owe you that much, at least.
Yours truly,
Hinata.
.
.
Sasuke let Tsunade read it through once—then the Hokage straightened, placed the letter facing Sasuke on the table in front of him, and then left the room. He could not help but read the last sentence over and over again.
'I owe you that much, at least.'
He smirked and shook his head.
"You owe me nothing, Hinata."
notes3: "i really liked writing the bit with daisuke and hinata. maybe it's because hinata's finally shining."