"You were gone for so long," Sakura pouted. She was sitting on his couch, putting her hair in curlers and watching day-time television. "Way more than an hour. I couldn't leave, I don't have a key yet."
"Here." Sasuke threw the key he'd gotten copied on the way home on the coffee table without stopping. They made a loud clattering sound against the hardwood. The movers had apparently come and gone, leaving a stack of boxes and Sakura's suitcase behind the couch. When he turned his head, he saw more boxes on the glass and metal dining table.
Sakura picked up the keys and watched him, her pout gone from her face as she registered his mood. "Difficult morning?"
"Extremely," Sasuke pushed out. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to be seen. This is what he knew would happen when they would eventually move in together…he'd been trying to prepare for it, but now it was already here. He began to go up the stairs to his bedroom, but stopped on the second one. "Have you heard anything from anyone?"
"Heard what from who? That's pretty vague, Sasuke," Sakura said, frowning. Her hands were paused in her hair, holding a little yellow roller. "I canceled my shoot today, you know, because I hadn't been media-briefed yet."
Sasuke pushed down the urge to curse and continued up the stairs. You would think she could think for herself with that big brain of hers! It was her fault they were in this mess. And his father was––
Sasuke pushed the thought away. He would not think about his father right now. When he got to his bedroom he went straight into the bathroom, changing out of the t-shirt and pants he'd put on earlier and got into a boiling hot shower. He hissed when the water hit the skin of his back, but he didn't move.
Instead, he looked down at his knuckles. They were swollen and red, some of the skin even broken. He turned and put them under the water, watching the blood be swept away.
After breakfast at his parents' home, Fugaku took them to the Boroughs, where a man was tied to a chair in one of the lockers.
"What is the meaning of this?" Itachi said, looking in. The man's eyes were covered, so Itachi couldn't be seen. Itachi hadn't been directly involved or implicated in Syndicate affairs since they went public with his campaign. He looked at Fugaku, frowning. "Father––"
"Be quiet. He can't hear or see you," Fugaku closed the door, looking tired. The lines in his face were growing, deepening with Mikoto's sickness. "Shikamaru did some digging. This was one of the guys who alerted the Hokage about Sakura's little…escapades. You young people are too emotional," Fugaku complained.
"What do you mean, old man?" Naruto asked. He was the only person on earth allowed to call Fugaku that. Sasuke guessed it was either that or "father" which likely felt strange for the both of them.
"I mean that a silly press conference isn't going to save us," Fugaku said. "If a tree is sick, you go to the root. You don't just cut off the branch."
"Don't you think people will be suspicious when they find out this guy is missing?" Sasuke was skeptical, and it wasn't helped by the slight sardonic up-twitch of Fugaku's mouth. His father rarely smiled, so when he did it usually wasn't a good sign.
"Karin went missing," Fugaku said impassively. "Just this morning, in fact. The whole thing is suspicious."
Chills went though Sasuke as he processed this information. Sure, Karin had been an annoying fangirl of an assistant, but she'd been loyal. She was a good worker. If something happened to her because of Sakura––
"What's our angle here?" Itachi cut in. He was notoriously good at leaving the personal behind––not that he'd ever cared about Karin in the first place. "What are we meant to do with this man?"
"We'll keep him for now," Fugaku said. "I would like to see how the Hokage responds to the missing man, if she does at all. I have my suspicions…"
Sasuke raised an eyebrow, but his father ignored him, turning once again to peer into the locker. It was a glorified refrigerator, with a small glass window, locked to good heavens from the outside. Whenever the Uchihas had a…guest in the Boroughs, Fugauku was sure to turn the temperature to freezing.
"Sasuke, Naruto, you two will stay behind to question this man. I have reason to believe he is working for something more than the Hokage," Fugaku said curtly, turning back towards Sasuke, his eyes flashing, dark and black. "If he doesn't talk, it only backs up my theory."
"Yes sir," Sasuke said, but he was staring in the direction of the main house, where his mother was probably still sitting, in pain, on the engawa. He wanted to get her out of the sun, or at least bring her some sunscreen. Then, he thought about his apartment, where he could soon go for peace and quiet. But there would still be Sakura to deal with. He sighed.
"Yes sir," Naruto said, perhaps too eagerly, because Fugaku looked back at him with a growing frown.
"Don't kill him," Fugaku ordered. "But bring him close. I need to see what it takes to break him. Find Shisui when you're done, and he will clean up."
Sasuke watched Itachi's head swivel, looking at Fugaku then looking away. Sasuke sighed at this, but because he loved his brother, he asked his father what Itachi would not. "When did Shisui get back?"
"None of your business," Fugaku practically spat. He turned abruptly and pointed at the locker, "your business is in there."
Itachi and Sasuke made eye contact, and Itachi inclined his head a small thanks. Before Sasuke could nod in acknowledgement, Fugaku was turning on Itachi, not yet done harping on his sons. "Why aren't you picking up your wife?"
Sasuke and Naruto quickly turned away, making a beeline for the locker. Itachi's fairly new wife, Izumi, was returning from a visit in Kyoto with her parents. She was a childhood friend, but that didn't mean that her marriage to Itachi was a joyous one. It was yet another recommendation from their father. Worse, it was a requirement for Itachi's career. It was rare that politicians were unmarried, especially ones that ran for important offices. It couldn't be helped. And now, well, now Izumi was pregnant. She took frequent trips out of Konoha to see her parents, but Sasuke assumed that she was more interested in avoiding her and Itachi's shared townhouse.
"Don't worry, I have a driver picking her up. Her request." Itachi droned, his face becoming blank after his dear wife was mentioned and information about Shisui had been withheld. "I have my own press conference to attend after this, so I will take my lead."
"Hn."
"Rest assured, Father. Izumi and our child are in good hands," Itachi said. He threw a look over his shoulder at Sasuke and Naruto and took his leave, stepping off the engawa and into the grass, not worrying at all about his suit.
"What are you two waiting for?" Fugaku spat once Itachi was out of sight, rounding the corner of one of the buildings on the compound. He was a quick exit––an unhelpful older brother. Though, Sasuke could not help Itachi as much as Itachi could help him.
Naruto and Sasuke entered the room and Sasuke got to work, digging the skin of his knuckles into the man's bowls, taking no pleasure in the wide-eyed, alarmed look on his face when Sasuke's fist connected. The man was an interesting figure: he had bowl-cut, well manicured brows, and impossibly long eyelashes. He had a solid abdomen that jolted when Sasuke's fist rammed into it, but Sasuke was confident that it still hurt. He hung his head after he'd been punched, took a few deep breaths, and slowly rolled his head back up to look Sasuke in the eye. He was smiling.
And that's when Sasuke knew that this man was on some other shit. Unfortunately, Fugaku had been completely right to want to test this man's limits.
In the shower at his home, Sasuke rinsed the wounds on his hands. It was only noon and already he wanted the day to be over. Instead, he continued to think of the man with the bowl cut. He and Naruto had to have been at it for an hour until they decided to call it quits. You could barely see the guy's face anymore, they'd definitely broken a few bones––the nose, a cheek. Whatever, Shisui would take care of it.
Besides, the guy hadn't talked. He was like a locked safe. Sasuke knew that they would meet again until the guy broke. They always broke, eventually.
"That's some other shit," Sasuke recalled Naruto saying after they closed and secured the locker. "That's like––definitely suspicious."
As Sasuke was cleaning underneath her fingernails, he heard footsteps coming upstairs and sighed. He began to climb out of the shower, not even bothering to grab a towel as his girlfriend burst into the room.
"Yes Sakura?" He asked, not looking at her. Instead, he looked at the tile at his feet––a deep forest green that reflected his body when he looked down.
"You need to come see this," Sakura said, and the urgency with which she said this made him look up, confused. She had almost all the curlers in her head, but her eyes were rimmed with tears.
He let her drag him into his bedroom, where she turned the tv to the news. There was a breaking news segment and a newscaster was standing in a studio, in front of a greenscreen. The image on the screen was of Karin, pictured wearing one of signature red suit-dresses to work. Journalists probably grabbed it off her business profile, Sasuke mused.
Sakura turned up the volume, practically stabbing the remote in her haste. The reporter's shrill voice rang out, "––an hour ago authorities on the scene confirmed that Uzumaki Karin, the Uchiha whistle-blower, was found dead this Sunday afternoon. Authorities say that they are considering suicide, however have not yet ruled out foul play. The investigation is still underway. This is Masahashi reporting live from––"
Sasuke reached over and turned off the television. He shook his head, "Uchiha whistle-blower? Father is going to be pissed."
Sakura was a mess of blubbery tears beside him. Sasuke sighed; he didn't bother getting dressed or even resuming his shower, he just dragged her over to his bed and placed her under the covers. When she looked at him with those big, green eyes, he groaned and slithered in beside her. He was still somewhat wet, but she didn't mind as she made a cocoon out of his arms, crying softly.
He touched her head kindly, but some part of him began to resent her. She had no idea what type of day he'd had and yet––
"What do you think happened to her?" Sakura sniffled. "It's…it's all my fault, isn't it?"
Sasuke just stared at the ceiling, the midday light hitting it and snaking down the wall. He let Sakura curl into his shoulder and shrugged. "You're going to be married to an Uchiha. Start acting like it."
-:-
"Just like old times," Hanabi said. She looked gleefully around the table, as if they were one big happy family. But they were neither big, nor were they happy. They were just at a dining table for the first time in at least a year.
When no one responded, Hanabi turned to Hinata who was sitting next to her and nudged her with her elbow. "Right, sister?"
"It's not really funny, Hanabi," Hinata said quietly as she diligently poured tea for everyone at the table. Their father sat at the head, making no expression––especially not one that would imply contentment, and Neji sat across from them looking bored as he practiced using chopsticks with his non-dominant, non-injured hand. He was quite good at it, of course, and lived up to his codename in all relevant areas.
"Who said it was a joke, sister?"
Hinata smiled weakly in response. They were in the formal dining room and it felt silly to be there; it was a long rectangular room with long rectangular windows on either side. The left side opened to an interior courtyard, which was slack gray and empty of life. It had once been beautiful, when Hitomi was alive and found joy in taking care of it, but now it was littered with empty planters, dead vines, and potting soil that was well past its expiration date.
"I thought it was funny," Neji said in a monotone, which irritated Hinata because it made her remember the dream and the circumstances in which he'd come here. Neji hadn't lived with them when Hitomi was alive, and so he would never experience the "old times" Hanabi spoke of. Perhaps that was the joke and Hinata just didn't get it––or like it that much.
"It's not a joke, Neji," Hanabi snapped, glaring at him across the table. Neji just sent her the splitting grin he only employed to unnerve people. It never worked on Hanabi, of course.
Hiashi ignored them all. He set his white gaze on Hinata, lifting his chin. "Did you look over your file?"
All eyes turned on her and Hinata turned red. She tried to channel Dove, and the blush went down. She began thinking like an agent, squaring her shoulders, lifting her chin. She nodded affirmatively.
"Yes, I did this morning, Father."
"It took you that long? I fear you don't understand the urgency of this assignment," Hiashi said disparagingly. "However, Kurenai insisted. I can't take it back."
Hinata nodded, remembering the look on Kurenai's face when she told Hinata that this mission would be her way out. Hinata hadn't exactly believed her until she opened the file. Before coming downstairs for breakfast, Hinata sat on her bed and stared at the name written across the top of the paperwork, her hands shaking.
AGENT: 7 - DOVE
ASSIGNMENT CODE-NAME: HYUGA, HINATA
She would be going undercover…as herself?! She'd balked, startled, and began rifling through the paperwork like an animal through garbage, desperately searching for something else––something better! Something that made sense.
Instead, she found more background information. She would pose as her Uncle, Hizashi's, daughter. She would be the heir to the small but mighty Hyuga Company that presided over the local Osaka hospitality industry. She came to Konoha to attend one of the best law programs in the country at the University of Konoha, because she wanted to head the legal team at the Hyuga company. She already had a Masters of Business Administration degree, which she'd received just two years after undergraduate at 24-years old. She'd attended a small program in Osaka for the MBA––a no-name school with an average rating.
But now this Hyuga Hinata was onto bigger and brighter things. She wanted the law degree from a top school, and she wanted to work at a top firm. That was why she had applied to be Uchiha Sasuke's new assistant at his small, but aggressive law firm. She had been inspired by his trajectory––so young, but already he'd gone so far. Like her, he'd received a second degree at 24, but this one had been in corporate law. In the four that had passed, he'd already created a successful business. It helped that he'd already had money.
But Hyuga Hinata had money too, as heiress. She just needed experience. That was why she had a job interview at the Uchiha firm bright and early, tomorrow morning at 8:30 am.
HInata rifled through it all––her new law-student ID on a perfect maroon lanyard, her new Osaka ID stuffed into a nondescript Gucci wallet. Her new resume, all filled out. Her school transcripts. Her new black credit card. Maps of the school. Maps of her uncle's home––just in case. A list of her favorite restaurants. A list of her favorite places to shop. A photo of her and her uncle when she was a child––made to look like they were father and daughter. Another one of her and Hiashi when she was a teenager––no one would be the wiser, because most of the world did not know that Hiashi even existed.
Keys to a new apartment.
Wordlessly, Hinata put the papers back down gently onto her bed. Kurenai was right. This was the mission to end all missions. She couldn't fail––she wasn't allowed to.
Failure would kill her. Failure would kill Dove.
-:-
Hinata and her father rode to headquarters together after breakfast. They sat stiffly, side-by-side, in the backseat of one of the black Lexus SUVs her father had in the garage. An agent––Hiashi's personal assistant, Captain––silently drove them along the curves in the road.
On the ride, Hinata became Dove. She quietly braided her hair down her back, securing each strand tightly. She made her face blank, and thought of only the mission and her new identity. Hyuga Hinata, heir of Hyuga Hospitalities Inc. New to Konoha. An only child. A hardworking student of the world.
In the parking garage, she and her father were met by a smiling brunette woman in a blazer. She identified herself immediately as she bowed low. "Good morning Command. I am Tigerlily. I am here to escort Dove to the fifth floor."
"Very well, Tigerlilly," Hiashi said. He turned, briefly, to Hinata, a frown dropping onto his mouth. "Dove, you will come to my office after. There is someone you need to meet."
Hinata bowed her head and followed the bubbly brunette through Headquarters. They'd never met before, but she chatted endlessly about her role, headquarters, and her favorite restaurants nearby. When Tigerlily and Hinata were out of sight and sound of Hiashi, Tigerlily turned on her abruptly, wrinkling her nose.
Hinata merely blinked at the change in attitude. They stood together in an elevator, going to a floor Hinata rarely visited.
"You're going to need a lot of work," Tigerlilly said, abruptly grabbing the coil of Hinata's hair between her hands. She held the end of it to her eyes, despite Hinata's meager protests. "When was the last time you deep conditioned?"
Hinaa said nothing, wide-eyed as she was steered into a room and into a chair, where bright white light shone down upon her head as if she were in a dental office.
The next four hours passed by in a blur. Hinata had been plucked, waxed, threaded, washed, and lasered within an inch of her life, and still she did not protest. Tigerlily and her team washed her hair to good heavens, then deep conditioned and oiled it, then washed it again. They put indigo highlights in her hair when they were done with that, trimmed the ends, straightened the bangs, and gave her a fluffy blow-out that fanned around her shoulders beautifully. When she walked, the hair floated as if there was a fan gently blowing on her constantly.
"You'll need to buy this blowdryer," Tigerlily said, holding it up like a gun.
"You––you can't just…give it to me?" All her weapons had been distributed for free.
Tigerlily ignored her. Next were her hands, which were oiled, miniscule knuckle hairs removed, and lathered in soft creams. She'd gotten a pedicure and a manicure, long, acrylic rectangles added to her fingernails and painted white at just the lips.
"French tips," Tigerlilly said as a different agent––Chamomile––finished up by brushing the dust off her fingers. "You'll need to get these re-done every two weeks. I listed a recommended salon for someone in your…position…in your file."
This is a lot of work, Hinata thought despondent as she sat in yet another chair that leaned all the way back. Her eyes were closed as someone pricked and prodded at her eyelashes. Her eyes felt heavy when they were done and she resisted the urge to rub them.
"Eyelash extensions," Tigerlily said, hovering over Hinata's body, looking appreciatively. "Your natural ones were already pretty long. We want to make a good first impression, though. You probably can hold off on getting them redone. But if you end up liking them, I would recommend a monthly appointment."
Hinata merely nodded. She would not be getting them re-done. She thought the things were pointless.
"Okay," Tigerlily seemed more than satisfied, now that Hinata's body was essentially hair and blemish-free, shining like a newly waxed floor. Her face was dewy and lightly painted with makeup––which she'd been given a tutorial on how to apply. For events, someone of her caliber would be expected to hire a makeup artist––those recommendations were also in the file, apparently. On the way out, she'd been handed three bags full of luxury makeup and skincare items that she would be expected to familiarize herself with. "That's all I can do for you, the rest is up to you, Dove. And please, stop wearing that dusty ponytail-braid around––it makes your face look super fat."
"What a bitch," someone said, when Hinata walked out of the door looking flustered, pink, and irritated all at once. She felt relief when she found Kiba leaning against the reception desk, a pyrex container in hand. "I don't think your braid makes your face look fat. The new 'do is cute though. It's…aerodynamic."
"Thanks, Canine," Hinata giggled, getting used to the way her hair moved around her shoulders, how heavy her eyes felt when she blinked, the soreness of her nailbeds as her new acrylics adjusted. She loathed to think that she would be responsible for maintaining all this for the sake of the mission. She was used to living her life as an agent; that is to say, like someone who kept to the shadows and didn't have to worry very much about her appearance. "It's um…kind of a lot."
Canine looked her over once more as they made their way to the elevator, and handed her the pyrex container. Hinata opened it to reveal one small cinnamon roll, and it made her smile and forget everything Tigerlily had said to her. She squeezed Kiba's hand as her thanks.
They were having lunch together one last time before Hinata departed for her mission. "They've got you going somewhere fancy, huh?" Kiba said.
"The fanciest," Hinata drolled. She hated that she couldn't tell Kiba where she was going, or that she would still be in the city, close enough to see him, but those were the rules. Hiashi didn't want Kiba to be her handler, and so they would not speak until all was said and done. Who knew how long that would take. Hinata didn't even know what the mission objectives were yet––just her own guesses that she'd tucked away into the corners of her brain. She showed him her nails, which he whistled at. "Apparently I have to maintain all of this, too."
"How much are they paying you?" They stepped into the elevator.
Hinata shrugged; she never really worried about that. "I don't even know. I've been given a Black Card, though."
"Straight from the Hokage's desk?" Kiba said this quietly, a whisper.
Hinata said nothing––didn't even look at him––and so he knew that the answer was yes. In the reflection of the silver elevator doors, Hinata watched Kiba's eyebrows lift and then crash in concern at this new, small but critical piece of information.
Nothing else was said between the two. When they arrived at the cafeteria, they quietly loaded their trays with bowls of soup and bread, and went to their usual table. Kiba didn't speak again until Hinata was a third of the way finished with her meal.
"Be careful out there, ok Dove?" Kiba said, lowering his head so that he was looking into her eyes. "This––this seems serious, and I won't be there to look out for you like normal."
Pink blushed fluttered to the surface of Hinata's cheek; it was true that Kiba's watchful eye and nose for danger had gotten Hinata out of more sticky situations that she could count. They were great partners; they cared about each other. They knew how to anticipate each other's next move like they shared a brain. Hinata nodded, eyes wide, hair flying. "I'll do my best, Canine."
Kiba leaned back, satisfied by how serious she was taking it. "And watch out. I don't trust Prodigy with you."
Hinata opened her mouth to protest, but sealed her lips when she saw the serious set of Kiba's jaw. She resisted the urge to bring her fingertips together––a nervous tick from her childhood that she had grown out of for the most part––and wrapped them under the vinyl seat of the cafeteria booth instead.
"Prodigy is family," Hinata said instead of arguing. "He will do what is right for the mission."
"He will do what is right for Byakugan," Kiba bit, his sharp teeth flashing. "He wants to be Command someday. Don't forget that."
Hinata remembered the dream and the memory. 15-year-old Neji, slamming a fist into her jaw. Her body rolling in the rain. His foot, coming down on her left wrist, snapping it. She ate more soup, shoving the noodle into her mouth, the broth burning the soft belly of her throat. There now. The memory was gone.
Besides, Myagi and other agents were always listening––that was the culture there, information harvesting. Hinata patted Kiba's hand goodnaturedly and assured him that everything would be alright. But Kiba still wasn't taking that for an answer, and his eyes flashed they way they did when he got an idea.
"You should get evaluated again," he said, whispering now, their heads close together. "Maybe––maybe if there's a red flag they won't make you do it––"
Hinata drew her head back abruptly. "No!"
Kiba looked up in shock, red darkening his cheeks as heads turned to look at him.
"No, Kiba, I'm not doing that," Hinata hissed, so upset that she'd accidentally used Kiba's real name. She was furious and she stood up and exited the booth. "I worked so–––" she took a deep breath. "I worked so hard to get here, and now you're telling me to go back? Because you think I can't do it?!"
Kiba stood too, even redder than before. "Hinata––Dove––you know that's not what I meant!"
"What do you think would happen to me?" Hinata questioned, feeling her body begin to shake as she thought of evaluation, and how they stripped everything away from you during the long, sterile process of mental degradation. "I've––I've already done it twice, Canine. A third time I would be sent to re-training."
"That's not necessarily true, Dove. I knew a guy who––"
Kiba was silenced by a severe look from his friend. Hinata bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. It wasn't his fault––Kiba didn't know. Hinata's mother had been sent to re-training a few years after having Hanabi. She had severe post-partum that led to her failing several missions––missions that Hinata thought she'd been sent on prematurely, given her children's young ages. She recovered from postpartum slowly as Hanabi got older, but still––her skills as an agent had dwindled significantly. Her ability and sanity came into question. After re-training…Hitomi had never been the same again. Hinata blamed the program for her mother's eventual death.
But Kiba wouldn't know that, and he was just looking out for her. Still…she didn't know what hurt more, the thought of re-training, or the fact that Kiba didn't think Hinata was strong enough to do the mission.
It didn't matter. Hinata was doing the mission to get the fuck out of there. "That's exactly what's in this folder," Kurenai said, just one night before. A way out. A way out. A way out.
Hinata took a deep breath, centered her shoulders, and channeled Dove. "I'm sorry if I overreacted, Canine, but you've never been to evaluation, so you don't know what it's like."
Kiba's face brightened at the apology. He nodded his head eagerly, like a puppy ready to be loved again. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have said that or even doubted you. You're a great agent, and you're going to do incredible things."
Hinata smiled and Kiba smiled back. "Okay," Hinata said, not feeling any better than before but she was good at acting like it. "That's settled. I-I love you, and I will see you soon. Hopefully."
"I love you too," Kiba wrapped her in a hug, and it felt warm and kind and like everything she'd needed for the past 48 hours. "Be safe, watch out for Prodigy, and be smart. And Dove, do me one last favor?"
"What?" Hinata asked as he released her, his warmth leaving at once.
Kiba flashed her his pointy smile, his brown unruly hair dipping in front of his eyes, the triangle-tattoos stretching across his cheeks as he grinned. "Look in a mirror, will ya? You look fucking hot."
Hinata turned beet red and rushed into an elevator that opened at the exact time she'd needed it to. She didn't even apologize to the blonde woman inside when she bumped into her, she just buried her face in her hands and pressed the button to what would be her last stop in Headquarters for a while: her father's office.
An. Long chapter and...at long last, our protagonists will meet next chapter! I told u it was slow burn, but its all going up from here. I believe you can begin to expect at least one interaction per chapter. See you next week lovelies 3