NINE

Hinata was busy typing up a report when a knock against the wall made her look up. She silently cursed herself for not being more aware––as a spy, no one should be allowed to sneak up on her––but she smiled nonetheless and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She straightened when she saw who it was. Uzumaki, Naruto. They hadn't officially met yet.

"I never introduced myself last week," the man said, grinning. "I apologize; we were swamped. I'm Uzumaki, Naruto. Nice to meet you, Hinata."

"O-oh, no worries," Hinata immediately stood up like a fire had been lit under her. She reached out her hand to shake his, and his grip was firm. She was momentarily taken aback by how dazzling he was––big, white smile, straight blonde hair, bright blue eyes. "Y-you're quite busy, I imagine. It's very nice to finally meet you."

"I hope Sasuke doesn't have you working too hard," Naruto said as Hinata sat back down. He grinned down at her, looking with an intensity that was making her pink. It was unfortunate, how many attractive men worked in this office––

"O-of course not," she said, stacking papers to distract herself. She grabbed a pen from Karin's pink mug and scribbled nonsense on the bottom of a post-it note to distract herself from his vibrant smile. "He's a very good boss––"

Sasuke was diligent, quiet, and cold. What more did she need?

Only…this was a mission, and she wasn't getting any closer to…well, being closer to him. Maybe Naruto could help.

"But…um," Hinata turned pinker still. "Do you have any s-suggestions on…um…getting him to… loosen up?" She immediately shook her head, holding her hands to her mouth as Naruto erupted into laughter, making even the secretary, June, turn her head and look in their direction with a glare. "I––I didn't mean it like tha––"

"No that's fucking hilarious," Naruto chuckled, holding his stomach as if she had just stood on a stage and started doing stand-up. "No assistant of his has ever spoken about him like that. They're usually in love with him or some shit. I like you, Hinata."

"Thank y-you…"

"Personally," Naruto leaned down, so close to her desk that when she looked up she could smell his pine-scented shampoo. "I think you're too cute to be his assistant––he's way too mean! You should come down to my department–––"

"Oi, dobe," Sasuke was standing in the doorway, another man Hinata had never seen before standing beside him looking on neutrally. Hinata jumped back when she saw him, her swivel chair going flying back into the window behind her and disrupting the blinds. Naruto chuckled good-naturedly as he straightened up, nodding at the other man who already looked annoyed with the entire situation.

Sasuke sighed with agitation and crossed to Hinata's side of the desk, where he gently pushed her chair back with her still in it, and lifted the blinds so they were no longer side-ways. He looked down at her then, his dark gaze falling over her and her pink cheeks easily. Something passed through his face that Hinata couldn't name––she didn't know him well enough, but it sent an odd chill down her spine.

"Is this idiot bothering you?" He asked, holding the back of her chair, still looking down at her.

Hinata shook her head, leaning forward so that their bodies weren't so close together. She remembered at the rally, when he held her arm, and his grip felt electric. She'd like to avoid that sensation. "N-no, Uchiha-san. He was just introducing himself."

Sasuke looked like he didn't believe her but he turned around and went to stand beside the new man. He had a ponytail and heavy bags under his eyes, but he was just as attractive as the other two. "I wanted to introduce you to Nara, Shikamaru. He's our Chief Strategist and just returned from a long vacation. I'll be expecting you to be in communication with him as well. He looks over most of our important documents and contracts before they're sent out."

Hinata stood, once again, and bowed at the new man. "Nice to meet you, Nara-san. I look forward to working with you."

"You too," the man drolled. "You seem…qualified, unlike some of Uchiha's past assistants."

"I…I do my best," Hinata said. Her eyes fluttered to Karin's mug––poor woman had been in over her head with these guys. Hinata wondered if they all worked together at the Syndicate. She had yet to get close enough to find out more than Sasuke's lunch schedule. "I hope…I hope that you three will come to see me as a r-reliable employee!"

Shikamaru nodded briskly, bowed, and left the room, mentioning that he'd be in his office if anyone needed him. Sasuke just looked at her blankly, while Naruto broke into a giant smile as if she'd just invented the wheel.

"You're amazing already, Hinata-chan," Naruto said, nodding encouragingly. "I'm excited to see how you grow in your position. Hey, maybe you'll even become a partner one day!"

Hinata blinked, startled at his enthusiasm. "––Um, m-maybe?"

Sasuke was giving him an irritated look. Naruto merely grinned and waved as he left her little corner of their floor. Finally, Sasuke and Hinata were alone at her desk, with her still blushing and processing the entire exchange as she pretended to sort papers.

She enjoyed the silence immensely more than all the chatter. Sasuke was leaning against the wall, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Finally, he looked at her, a question in his gaze.

"Sorry, he can be a lot," he said about Naruto. "But that did make me curious. Are you interested in becoming partner, one day?"

This was the first time besides their first interview that Sasuke had asked about her personal life. She welcomed the opportunity, despite her nervousness. "O-oh, um, I guess I never thought about it. I always just t-thought I'd go back to Osaka and help my father."

"Is that an urgent task?"

Hinata blinked at the question, surprised. She found herself shaking her head, as if she were actually considering where her life would take her––as if she actually had a choice. "I––I guess not. Father already has a Senior Attorney on his team. I'd probably just be doing busy work, or acting as a paralegal for a few years."

"That's beneath you," Sasuke said with a forwardness that startled her. His brow was crinkled, but he looked at her without shame or hesitation. "You should think more of yourself. It hasn't been very long, but you've done excellent work. Keep doing it."

"T-thank you, Uchiha-san," Hinata said, trying to keep the awe out of her voice. It wasn't often she was complimented for her work ethic. "I will continue doing my best to––"

"Stop doing that," he demanded, suddenly, eyes sharp on her pink face. "You already got hired, you don't have to prove yourself. I'm simply complimenting your work. Accept it and move on."

"Oh," Hinata said, for lack of a better response. She let her eyes fall to her lap, though she felt a strange energy pulse through her when he looked at her. Her ears were warm––she called this embarrassment. It was easier than naming what she actually felt. "Well, thank you, Uchiha-san. The encouragement was needed."

Uchiha, Sasuke said she didn't need to prove herself anymore. What a concept. What a relief.

She'd never been in such a position before.

-:-

"I am so glad to finally be able to get to know you," Sakura said, pink hair falling over her shoulders as she brought a wine glass to her mouth. It was Chardonnay that she'd expertly paired with her plate of lobster tail and mixed greens––no sommelier needed. "I like to make it a habit to meet all of Sasuke's assistants; they're usually a staple in our life, no matter how short their time with him is."

Sakura was…interesting. Hinata thought about this as she chewed on her plate of roasted scallops and risotto––Sakura had chosen her wine too (Chenin Blanc) like she was trying to prove something. She clearly had something to prove. For a woman to have this much mistrust over the women her fiancé employed…perhaps there was a history there.

In any case, she was a well learned woman who knew the right thing to say in almost any situation, with just the right tone. The sentence she had just said, in fact, was as biting as it was calculating. She had said so much with just a few words, and had already rendered Hinata to be nothing more than a speck of dirt on her shoe without knowing her. It was impressive, really.

But as an agent, it was Hinata's duty to dig deeper, and the more she peered into Sakura's soul with a glass of wine and plate of expensive seafood, the more she saw how insecure the woman was. On the way there in the car with Ino, Hinata did a deep-dive on her Instagram page: a quarter of a million followers, pictures of her and Sasuke on pricey get-away trips on private islands, bikini shots, and magazine covers. The woman had everything in the world she would ever need and yet––

She had been the target for an assassination. She'd gone beyond her depths. What made her feel so unconfident? Did she not fit in with Sasuke's family?

Hinata received an affirmative cooling of her brain as the thought ran through her mind. That must be it. The family thing.

"It's great to meet you too," Hinata said. She smiled sweetly, though she was nervous: Sakura had a huge energy to her. "T-though I'm curious, do you usually take assistants out to d-dinner? This is too much Sakura-san!"

Ino smiled underneath her glass. No wine for her––she was drinking straight tequila.

"She's interested in you because you don't seem like a typical fangirl," Ino said. "Plus you already have two degrees and are working towards a third. Not to mention you're an heiress."

"You're making me seem like a classist bitch," Sakura said distastefully. "But we do go to the same school. I thought it could be fun to have another friend on campus." She split the lobster tail in half, and it made a cracking sound. "It's so hard making friends in grad school."

"Are you in your second year?" Hinata wondered aloud. "What are you studying?"

"I'm getting my PhD," she said, like it was a drag. "In my third year already. Going for public policy––my dad wants me to go into politics."

"Oh wow," Hinata said appreciatively. She'd gotten some of her information in Sakura's dossier wrong––she'd have to correct it later. "That's incredible, but––is that also what you want for yourself?"

There was an uncomfortable silence at the table. They were sitting river-side, in a restaurant with fluffy outdoor seating, candlelit dinners, and ivy vines twirling romantically over their heads. Hinata looked around in quasi-awe, prepared to let the question hang in the air and settle in.

Hinata had only asked it because it was a question Sasuke had asked her earlier. It stuck with her, this notion of what a person wants. This notion of choice. Hinata had never had a choice––she still doesn't. It seemed like none of these rich people did either. Go figure.

"Of-––of course!" Now Sakura seemed flustered as she broke yet another lobster shell with a strength that seemed unnatural to her petite form. But Hinata watched her bare arms––she was wearing a thin-strapped, satin, dress––as the muscles moved under her skin. She'd gotten that part of her dossier correct, at least. "I'm very inspired by Itachi-nii and hope to help him in office someday. I'd rather be an advisor than run for office or anything."

"You're such a public figure though," Ino put in. She hadn't exactly been helpful during this dinner––she mostly antagonized Sakura the whole time––but Hinata still appreciated her easy, confident presence. "Wouldn't that be hard to navigate? I've never seen a Playboy bunny run a campaign."

"Sorry your brain is too small to consider the complex possibilities of a changing, feminist world," Sakura said, causing Hinata to choke on her Chenin Blanc. Ino patted Hinata's back half-heartedly, smirking. "I've also never been a Playboy model. I think that's more your pay grade."

Hinata watched Ino and Sakura stare at each other in a tense silence before both women burst into absurd laughter, sloshing their wine glasses around. Cautiously, Hinata laughed too, but she didn't know what on Earth was remotely funny about the exchange. Besides, she thought Ino's question was a good one. Sakura's career choice didn't make sense. Hinata thought about this for a second until she understood.

"O-oh," she said, laughing too, finally, under her hand. "Y-you're going to be a trophy wife."

Ino and Sakura's mouths dropped open. Ino stepped on her foot under the table and Hinata managed not to flinch. Fuck. She'd said something wrong. A waiter came by and filled their glasses, saving the awkward silence when he asked if they wanted dessert. Eagerly, Ino ordered chocolate truffles and strawberry gelato for the table.

"No, no I'm not," Sakura said, smiling with her teeth. Hinata could tell she hit a nerve though, when the light in the Haruno woman's eyes was a bit dimmer. So she knew her fate. Or did she? Sasuke seemed like he appreciated a good hard-working woman––but since when could Hinata claim to know anything about that man that was more than his coffee order?

"I'm going to have a doctorate degree and I am going to go into politics alongside my future husband and his family," Sakura put her hands flat on the table, her long, red nails flashing against the overheard fairy lights. "Any more questions?"

In the car on the way home after dinner, Ino shook her head at her.

"That was horrible, Hinata. Are you kidding me?"

"I––I didn't know what to say! I didn't understand the social cues…" Hinata covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shrinking. "She's––she's intimidating and mean! And I told you I've…I've never had to make a real friend."

Ino considered this as she faced the road, driving Hinata the fifteen or so minutes back home. She was still waiting for her day-to-day car to be dropped off by Neji––different from the emergency vehicles she had keys to in the Toy Chest. The new one had a Title coming with her name.

"What type of missions are you used to, again?" Ino side-eyed her like she didn't believe Hinata was a real spy. As antagonizing as this question was, it was fair to ask: Hinata had been doing poorly. The reality of this failure sat heavily on her chest.

She'd already cried to Ino about how she didn't know who she was––now this! Ino was probably seconds away from telling Command and having the whole thing shut down, sending Hinata straight to re-training, and revoking whatever chance Hinata had at freedom.

This sent cold water down Hinata's spine. She sat up straighter, breathing harder, "I'll do better, I promise, Ino. I'm so sorry today went so horribly. I'll do my research, I'll study more, I'll figure it out, I'll––"

"Whoa. Chill," Ino said. She eased her car to a red light, looking at her stammering partner out of the corner of her eye. "I'm not going to report you, for God's sake. I just need more context. I can't help you if I don't know how."

"Oh," Hinata tried to ease her breathing, but was finding it difficult. Instead, she powered through, sweating. "S-scouting missions, mostly. Some assassinations as I went up in rank. Retrievals––I'm g-good at being stealthy. I can make myself real small."

"So, no undercovers?"

"Nothing like this," Hinata admitted, looking down at her feet. She was wearing platform sandals that tied at her ankles. Her nail polish was chipped. She'd have to make an appointment to go in tomorrow. "I've only done undercovers that were short-term. A week at the most, and u-usally not so involved. I would be a shop-keeper or college student or something. This…this is…"

"Some other shit," Ino filled in. She whistled as she pressed the gas. "They threw you into the deep end, honey, but don't worry. I won't let you drown."

Hinata looked at her, watching her delicately made face open into a smile––but it didn't reach her eyes. They were crystal clear, blue as the sky, and completely unfeeling. Her ponytail twisted prettily down her back as she ran a hand through it. She was gorgeous, confident, and lively, but there was something about her that Hinata couldn't place. A darkness.

"But first, let's fix this shit with Sakura, because knowing her she'll have you fired by the end of next week," Ino said, and Hinata watched the light come back in her eyes. "You'll need to write her an apology letter and send along a fruit basket or something. I'll send you a list of recommendations. Then you should…."

For some reason, Hinata felt like she was in good hands. She leaned her head against the door and let her breath calm.

-:-

"Thank you sweetheart," the dark-haired man said. Sasuke watched the bottle girl in a tight red dress drop low to refill his cup, her hips swinging as she passed. The man raised the glass to Sasuke and Naruto, lifting it in celebration. "To a new partnership."

Sasuke raised his cup of bourbon and clinked it against his, "always a pleasure, Motoi."

The three men sat in a sectioned part of the club, elevated over the dancing, sweating bodies on the dance floor. The music blossomed around them, pumping with an intense deep bass that made the room shake upon every beat. The lights flickered different colors over their heads. Multiple times, already, had a club kid come up to them to try to get into their section; men and women alike, all with a hazy sort of gluttony in their eyes.

Sasuke waved them all off despite Naruto's protests. It was late and he'd already had a long day. Between the office and Syndicate business…he was beyond tired. Not to mention, Itachi had a litany of legal questions for him that Sasuke had tried his best to answer throughout the day. In two weeks would be Itachi's first debate with his opponent, and they were both working to the bone to make sure that Itachi's answers were perfect.

It didn't help that Sakura lived with him now prematurely, and she was quick to make his loft apartment fit to her likings. He felt like he didn't have any space lately. He felt like he was losing his damn mind, and still––he tried to be a good son, a good brother, a good lawyer, a good fiancé, a goddamn good crime boss in training.

All that to say that he felt a bit tense. His shoulders were tight. He hadn't been able to get to the gym enough for his liking. The sex between him and Sakura felt less fun now that they lived together and was bordering on routine. He didn't have time to himself anymore. Alone time was the highest priority to him.

Motoi watched him. He was a man from a Syndicate from a different city known for their powder. The Uchihas were in need of new cooks and the Kumo Syndicate were known to be the best ones. Fugaku had been brokering a new deal with them for weeks; something that could work in both of their favors. Uchihas didn't go to suppliers; they were the suppliers, and the Kumo needed to understand this if partnership between them was going to work out.

Luckily it had. Motoi agreed to share his skills, and would stay in Konoha until they had properly trained an Uchiha member of their choice.

Still, his dark stare unnerved Sasuke. He had met the man only a handful of times, and still he remembered his mass of brown hair, and the thick black tattoo on the shaft of his nose. Sasuke sipped his drink quietly, returning Motoi's stare.

"You're a proper citizen now," Motoi said, sinking low into the leather love-seat. Around them were tall bottles of ciroc and bourbon. "Big time law, eh? I don't know how you Uchiha do it. Always aiming so damn high, leave some space for the rest of us, will ya?"

"There's room," Sasuke said, stretching his mouth into what could perhaps be described as a smile. His patience was thin. He wanted to go home. But somehow, the deal still wasn't done and it was impolite to rush these things. "Just reach your hand out and take it."

"That's right," Naruto said––though he was pink in the face–– and raised his glass. "This city is ours soon as 'Tachi is elected."

"Hm," Motoi took a drink, looking around the dark club. It was one of theirs––an Uchiha club––located in a dark, seedy part of Konoha. It was Sasuke's favorite of the bunch; called The Nest, it had been around longer than Sasuke had been alive. "Lotta pretty women around."

"You're welcome to whomever will have you," Sasuke said, inclining his head towards the dark, curtained area to the left of the dance floor. Little, glittering, crystals hung from the curtains, giving the club a bohemian feel. He watched, disinterested, as scantily-clad people slid their bodies through the curtains, holding the arms of their companions. He'd been through those curtains enough to know what went down, but it wasn't his area of expertise. They had people for that. Sauske pulled a matte black card from his pocket and handed it to the man. "Just show them my card."

"Quite a selection," Motoi praised quietly, his eyes passing over a man with rippling muscles and a glittery tank top. The man lifted the curtains and stepped out onto the dance floor, leading a businessman by the crook of his arm. The man looked around shyly, before slipping something into the other man's pocket and going to the bar. Motoi took the card. "Would you like to try mine? A client should always know what he's paying for."

Sasuke's left eye twitched. For a moment, he hadn't the slightest idea what the man was referring to, until he remembered the bag at their feet. He stood, inclining his head. "Somewhere else."

Naruto stood too, a revolted look passing across his pinkened features. He set his drink down, crossing his arms, "Next time don't say it like that, man!"

Motoi merely chuckled and followed the two men out of the main room. They passed into staff-only hallways with dark walls and low lights until they came into a little office. Teyaki and Uruchi, the older couple who managed the club, were there, running yen through a money counter.

Uruchi, the House Mother, looked up when they came in, a cloud of thick purple smoke leaving her mouth when the door opened. She immediately coughed and bent into a bow. "Sasuke-sama, Naruto-sama––we didn't know you would be here tonight! Our apologies. Do let us know if any of my girls can be of assistance tonight."

"Auntie, Uncle," Sasuke greeted pleasantly and nodded when Teyaki bowed. "We come quietly. Our guest, Motoi will be needing company later, but I gave him my card. There's no need to worry yourselves. We will need the room, however."

They bowed and left the room quickly, leaving the three men to the privacy of The Nest's biggest office. Teyaki and Uruchi had been running it since before Sasuke was born, and they ran a tight ship. Sasuke sat in the leather chair in front of the desk that Teyaki had previously occupied, and Naruto sat on the desk.

Motoi excitedly dropped his bag, opening it to reveal five keys of tightly wrapped cocaine. He snickered as he opened it, muttering, "Plenty more where that came from."

Sasuke watched him rip a corner open, the powder whiter than snow. Even Naruto wrinkled his nose appreciatively at the sight of it. "Shit looks pure," he said.

"Purer than a nun's pussy," Motoi said boisterously. From his pocket, he took out his car keys and scooped a little on to it. Sasuke watched him shove it against his nostril, leaving a trail against the top of his lip, which he greedily licked. "You've got to try it."

Old Sasuke wouldn't hesitate. New Sasuke had a work meeting the next day. And yet…he found himself reaching for one of his matte black cards, and dipping the corner into the snowy mountain, watching some of it fall onto the desk. At the end of the day, he was fucking tired. He deserved a little buzz.

"Hell yeah," Naruto rallied as he watched Sasuke take the bump. Sasuke felt it immediately in his head and chest, the rush so rejuvenating that he stood from the desk, letting the chair hit the wall.

"Damn," Motoi said. "Damn right!"

Damn right. The shit was good. Sasuke let Naruto take a bump and packed the rest away into his bag. He felt the power of it rushing through his bloodstream, and he needed to leave before he did something he would regret.

"Have a good night, gentleman," he called sarcastically as he shouldered the bag. Their business was done––Motoi was paid and would continue to come around, and Sasuke had secured part of their deal. Naruto would do what he usually did––dipping his head beyond the curtains of the brothel––and Motoi would likely follow.

Sasuke just wanted to take a long drive. His car was waiting, practically buzzing, in the lot. He'd take the country roads, zip through the night, and be utterly, completely alone.

Just how he liked it.