When the gunfire finally stopped, Sasuke knew they had gotten him.
He threw his steaming gun to the side and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt––this would be a long night; longer than he had initially expected. He cast a quick look around the patio to ensure that no one was bleeding out––or dead––and was satisfied with the results. No one had perished today, besides the asshole on the roof a couple of houses down.
Itachi gave Shikamaru orders to clear out the guests and arrange their transportation, if needed, leaving only Izumi, Sakura, and Hinata to stay hiding in Itachi's study. Hinata had been Sasuke's personal request; he felt bad. This was the second time she had almost lost her life because of him. He wanted to make sure that she was okay.
Shisui was injured, but not badly. A graze wound that had melted the tip of his left ear; anything closer he would've been killed. Instead, he sulked near the firepit, holding a wet cloth to one ear, and his cellphone to the other. He was busy calling off the police who would have undoubtedly been called to the scene because of the noise. It was nice, having the Chief of Police on their side.
Though Sasuke didn't envy the man for many reason;. Sasuke saw the way his brother was glaring at him.
"The body," Sasuke said to Naruto, who had twice already gone to check on the women in the basement. He looked giddy, overstimulated, and still a bit drunk. "Since you have so much fucking energy––go get it."
"Ugh, why me?" Naruto complained, ears pink. "I was just telling Sakura I would––"
"It's either that or call my father. You decide."
Naruto promptly walked away, letting himself out of the back gate, and towards the three-story home they had been fired at from. That was part of the neighborhood that was under construction, so it made sense that an assailant would choose to shoot from there. Sasuke turned to Itachi, an eyebrow raised. He hoped his brother knew he would have to move soon. Probably, temporarily back at the Uchiha compound. At least Mikoto would be happy.
Lower Syndicate members began to clean the yard, carefully handling the bullet shells and putting them in bags in case Fugaku demanded an investigation––which was likely. Shisui was slow to help with this, and he kept sending woeful looks in Itachi's direction. Sasuke wasn't sure what all that was about and he didn't want to know.
Instead, he went into the kitchen and called his father. His adrenaline was still pumping in his ears, his fingers shaking, but he felt good––almost like the old him had come out. There was nothing better than holding a heavy machine between your finger, and shooting towards an enemy in the distance to protect your loved ones. He felt the power in his hands, in his legs, in his feet as he stood his ground and saw the figure emerge between rays of sunlight.
Sasuke had issued the killing shot. Right through the chest. The firing stopped immediately. He was proud; there were no casualties, only a few injuries here and there.
"Son," Fugaku answered on the second ring, sounding tired. "I hope you are not calling to complain about your brother's party. Your mother is––"
"No, Father, I am not calling to complain about Itachi's party," Sasuke was immediately annoyed. Besides––why would he bother complaining to his father of all people? "I am calling to give you an update. An assailant opened fire on us as Itachi and Izumi were doing the gender reveal."
He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of bottled waters as he listened to Fugaku's stunned silence. It was rare that he ever shocked the man to quiet. It was usually the opposite.
"Were there casualties?"
"No," Sasuke twisted a bottle open. "I handled it before it could get there. Naruto went to retrieve the body and should be back shortly, and Shisui called off the cops already so there shouldn't be any media pushback. As of right now, we don't know who did it, but I have a few ideas. We'll know soon enough."
"I will be there shortly," Fugaku said curtly, his voice an iron edge of pure, unadulting, rage. "I'm bringing Sai––don't bother complaining. Go see about your fiancée and sister-in-law. I will see you soon."
Sasuke rolled his eyes at his father's admonishing tone. Sai was one of his cousins who worked at KMP with Shisui. Shisui absolutely hated the guy, and Sasuke just thought he was a creep–––but he was a great investigator, and had a photographic memory. If Fugaku thought the guy would be helpful, who was Sasuke to disagree?
He turned to look down the stairs leading to Itachi's basement and sighed. Now he had to make sure Sakura was okay.
-:-
It was fifteen minutes after the shooting until someone came downstairs––the study was crowded with bodies––and told them that they would begin ordering cars for the party guests to go home.
Hinata sat on the floor in the corner, holding a napkin to her cut. She had already bled through a couple of them, and she was worried the wound would need stitches. She resigned herself to worry about it later as she collected her bag and bid Sakura a quiet goodbye. The woman was in shock––curled in on herself on the brown leather sofa, not saying a single word. She guessed she was traumatized––after all, Hinata had tried to kill her in a similar way only a month before.
Izumi was more put together than that. She sat with her legs crossed on the couch across from Sakura, drinking from a large metal bottle with her hair clipped back. She was sweating, but other than that she looked fine as she rubbed circles into her belly and held a crisp handgun at her side. She sent frequent looks at the door as if anticipating an attack, even when her guests fluttered around her to ask her every need.
Hinata liked her, even if they had barely spoken more than two words to each other. As Hinata sat and waited for the all clear, she took a mental picture of the office, tracing each and every detail. It seemed to be Itachi's private lair of some sort––one the way down, she noticed a security password panel built into the wall. The door was likely a hidden one, before all this stuff happened.
More things for the dossier. She was getting closer and closer.
When her adrenaline started wearing off and she could feel the throb of her biceps more than ever, she began to tire of waiting. That was when Naruto first came down, and started to arrange transportation for the guests. Family members, Hinata assumed, based on the lack of shock in the room. Those who were close enough to know about the Syndicate.
What a treat Hinata had just received.
Naruto squatted down in front of her, smiling easily, like they all hadn't just been under attack. "Doin' okay, Hinata-chan?"
Hinata wondered what card to play. She chose nervousness––it was the easiest one. "I'm––I'm okay, just shaken up."
"You're injured," Naruto said, eyes flickering to her arm and the cloth she held to it. "We'll get someone to help you with that. Sasuke asks that you stay a little longer, by the way––he wants to check on you."
"O-oh," Hinata said, blinking. She was surprised. She thought she would be handed an NDA and be shuttled off like everyone else. She didn't know that the Uchiha cared so much for her well being…then again, this was the second time she had almost been killed under his employment. "Okay, then. I'll wait here."
"Great," Naruto said, gently, like he was speaking to a wounded baby bird. "I'm gonna go get these folks out of here and will be by to check on you soon."
Hinata watched him wander over to Sakura, where he pressed a palm to her shoulder. She lifted her head, her pink hair falling into her face, as he said something to her and she nodded, her shoulders caving in on themselves. For a moment, her face was bright and focused––she spoke softly back. And then Naruto squeezed her shoulder and walked away, hurriedly escorting guests out of the study.
Hinata lowered her head. These people––they were full of subtleties that she had yet to figure out. Even Shisui, the person she'd just met, seemed layered and angry, but willing to participate and help out all the same.
Wasn't that just life? Perhaps Hinata hadn't yet lived a complicated enough life to understand these complexities, but as she held a napkin to her bleeding skin, and remembered Hanabi's letter, Hizashi's shrine, and Neji's warning––she was beginning to understand how life could truly be if you were willing to participate with your own free will and agency.
Agency was a tricky word; after all, she was still doing this mission.
A bit later, Naruto came down again and checked on Izumi and Sakura. He brought Izumi a cup of tea, and Sakura a water and some of the salvaged desserts from outside. "Your blood sugar," he said to her––and she was rather pale, still curled up on the couch the way she was, her limbs shaking. She accepted the plate with a weak smile.
"I have to get the body," he spoke casually, now that no one else was there. Though he did seem slightly alarmed when he remembered Hinata, he brushed it off his shoulders like he hadn't said anything remotely unusual for a contract attorney.
Hinata pretended that she hadn't heard, but her ears burned with all the information she was getting.
"Please tell my husband to come here," Izumi said––her voice edging on boredom and irritation as she held the tea to her chest. She turned on the TV with a reach of her elegant arm, selecting the cooking channel. Iron Chef was playing. "Before I book the first flight to Kyoto out of here."
"Er…okay," Naruto said awkwardly. He didn't seem to be a fan of marital drama. "Congratulations on the girl?"
"I already knew," Izumi said, holding her belly, her legs curled up under her. On the television, a chef swore loudly after he accidentally cut his finger open while chopping onions. "This whole thing was for everyone else."
Hinata felt bad for the woman, but she tried to mind her business alone in the corner pretending to charge her phone. Naruto left promptly after that, and the three women sat in relative quiet for another five minutes.
Finally, when the show cut to commercial, Izumi looked over at Hinata and frowned. "You're losing too much blood."
Hinata looked down at her pile of napkins, unaffected. "I-I think it's mostly stopped by now, but t-thank you for your concern, Izumi-san."
"It's interesting Sasuke wants you to stay," she said idly.
"Is––is it?"
"Can we please talk about something else?" Sakura groaned from the couch. Finally, she pulled herself up and Hinata saw her face––red, terrified and puffy––as she tied her hair back. She walked out of the room without saying another word and shut a door on the other side of the study; likely a bathroom.
Izumi merely looked at the closed door and shrugged. She ate a cupcake and turned her attention back to the TV, still massaging her belly. Her handgun sat casually on the coffee table beside her now. "He's gonna have to go to the hospital," she muttered about the man who had cut his finger open. She looked at Hinata again, "Gonna be you soon if you don't get that arm figured out."
Hinata's eye twitched. Izumi was nothing like she thought the woman would be––but she guessed it made sense; hanging out around all of these strange Uchiha men.
Luckily––or unluckily––depending on who you asked, Sasuke came down the stairs, holding a bottle of water. He saw Hinata in the corner and gestured her forward. Obediently, Hinata scrambled up after him, still holding a wad of napkins to her arm.
"Nice meeting you," she called to Izumi, who reached over and stole Sakura's plate of sweets. "I––I wish it were in better circumstances."
"Bye," Izumi said blandly, waving her powdered-sugar covered hand without looking back. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon, Hyuga."
Hinata watched Sasuke's back as he led her up the stairs. His collar was wrinkled and out of place, but other than that, he looked normal. He was wearing a linen shirt that stretched with his muscles as he walked and for a second Hinata remembered the dream, his hands––
None of that was real. Hinata needed to stay rooted in reality, but she would be lying if she said the day wasn't getting to her. These people were fucking crazy––she had never experienced anything like this before.
"In here," Sasuke said when they reached the first floor landing. To their right, he held open a door and Hinata dutifully followed him into it.
It was a small, lavender office that barely fit a full-sized desk, chair, and chaise and bookcase. The desk held an iMac, and the screensaver was a photo of Izumi and Itachi, sitting in a field of sunflowers. Hinata would have never thought to picture them in such a setting if the evidence was not in front of her face.
"This is Izumi's office," Sasuke explained quietly. On the desk were the fixings of a first-aid kit, already laid out. "She's a publicist. Can you sit on the chaise, please?"
Hinata nodded, not saying a word. It seemed like things had calmed down; most of the guests were gone, and there were a few men moving about and cleaning up. Other than that, it was almost like nothing had ever happened. The Uchihas were good.
"Can I see your arm?"
Surprised, Hinata looked at him and saw that he was staring keenly at her arm. She took the cloth away from her arm and watched him wince, something like guilt flashing across his face. Gingerly, Sasuke took her arm and made a tsk sound she'd never heard him make before. It was almost funny.
"You'll need stitches," Sasuke said, grunting. "What happened?"
"Vase exploded. You know the usual…" Hinata chuckled goodnaturedly, trying to get him to give up the guilt. It wasn't a good look on him. "Shattered glass to the skin."
If anything, Sasuke looked even more pissed off than before. Hinata pressed her lips together, not sure if she should laugh or apologize.
"I'll sew it," he said, his voice steady and serious. He didn't laugh with her. Instead, he began to clean her wound, pressing an alcohol pad to the thick gash with pressure. Hinata breathed in through her mouth, trying not to watch his focused face––trying to ignore the feelings that stirred in her belly as his eyebrow creased in concentration.
To distract herself: "You…y-you um…know how to do that?"
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Hyuga," Sasuke said, then he looked up at her. "Which I'm sure you've probably guessed by now."
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Hinata looked away and pretended to wince. Sasuke noticed immediately and lightened his grip. He went over to the desk and grabbed a tube of lidocaine and rubbed it into the affected area.
"Numbing cream," he said, though Hinata already knew well what it was. "We'll have to wait a bit until I can finish."
"Right," Hinata said, nodding quietly. They sat in silence for a few long moments, Sasuke hovering near the mock first-aid station, and Hinata looking down at her fingers to distract herself from the strange tension that had suddenly filled the room.
At the same time, they spoke:
"Are you alright?"
And;
"We can't keep ending up in this position," Hinata joked, blinking in surprise when she heard Sasuke's voice as well.
Sasuke shifted uncomfortably––he didn't laugh or even acknowledge what she'd said. He gestured to her arm, "Can you feel it?"
Hinata tapped it gently, then shook her head; no. The truth was that of course she could still feel it––lidocaine could take up to an hour of sitting to work––but this was just uncomfortable, and she had been through far worse pain than this. She could mask her pain well; it was what she had been taught.
Hinata watched him put on gloves and sit down next to her, touching her arm with a tenderness she didn't expect from him. He threaded the needle through and grabbed her arm, muttering a quiet question, asking her if she was ready. When she nodded, he pricked her skin. She could still feel it––but not as much; the lidocaine was still settling in.
"I'm afraid this is my fault," Sasuke said, after several more minutes of heavy silence in which Hinata flitted her eyes around Izumi's office, wondering what type of publicity the woman did. It seemed to be children's books related, from the multiple posters and knick-knacks on the shelves. What an interesting career for such a to-the-point woman.
Sasuke's admission of guilt knocked Hinata out of her thoughts. She looked up at him surprised as he pulled the thread through her skin like it was a skill he'd learned as a boy scout. Admittedly, Hinata could probably do the same thing to herself––better, even––but she was in no place to show off here.
"What do you mean?"
"The reason you keep getting in the middle of crossfires is because of me," he said, diligently working. He didn't even look up at her as he spoke. "I'm afraid that if you're going to make the decision to continue to work for me, I am going to have to be completely transparent. I can't have this on my conscience anymore––I have enough to deal with."
Uh…okay.
Hinata jumped when the needle pricked her a little more harshly. Sasuke looked up at her, both eyes narrowing as if to say so you can feel that? He was so close to her and…
Right. She had to answer whatever he had just cryptically said to her.
"W-what haven't you been transparent about, U-Uchiha-san?" Hinata blinked curiously, her head facing the wall in front of her. She couldn't risk looking down at him––it bugged her the way he looked up from his eyelashes, his focused attention shifting from her arm to her face. It was too unnerving.
"Hn," he pulled the thread tight, his left arm gripping the hell out of her arm. Was he punishing her or what? "I won't fault you if you want to quit, but do expect a hefty NDA. A loose tongue could put more than just your finances at stake."
"What are you trying to say, Uchiha-san?" She said stiffly, her heart was racing, but she wasn't sure why. "Are you––do you––are you f-firing me?"
"No," Sasuke said. He reached over to the desk and grabbed a pair of scissors. She heard the soft clip sound it made as he cut the rest of the thread. "You're one of the best assistants I've ever had, frankly. I never knew they were supposed to be helpful."
"Oh…um…"
"That was a joke," Sasuke said, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. He exchanged the scissors for a bandage, and dutifully wrapped the material around her arm. "What I'm trying to say, Hyuga, is that I'm not a normal person. Neither is Naruto and neither is Itachi. People are constantly targeting us, and I can't have you working for me without knowing the inherent risk that comes along with it. It wouldn't be fair."
Hinata fixed her eyes on the lavender wall. There was a calendar hung up that featured illustrations of pink and yellow teddy bears on it. "W-what type of people are you, then?"
The clock beside the calendar ticked. It was pooh-bear themed. Izumi sure had a lot of cutesy stuff. Hinata felt her breath coming out faster and faster, awaiting his answer. Was this it? Was she finally in?
Sasuke's smirk transformed into a confident, but deeply troubling, smile. It had the edge of danger that Hinata had been trained to sniff out like a dog searching for its last meal. It was that smile that confirmed everything she knew––everything she would know. His face changed with that smile, it became more angular, more handsome, and more dangerous–––it was a smile that told Hinata that Sasuke knew that he was meant to inherit it all.
"We Uchiha men…we are the Yakuza. We live dangerous lives. I need you to know that before you come with us to Rome," Sasuke said all of this casually, as he stood and slipped the medical gloves off. "You're an heiress and I can't have your blood on my hands…anymore."
Hinata said nothing.
"Another joke––you're supposed to laugh," Sasuke said, walking into the shadows––out of the stream of light emitting from the single window––as he began to clean off Izumi's desk. "It's fine––appreciated even––if you still want to work for me, but I want you to know the risks."
Inside, Hinata felt her heart grow three sizes. Pride washed over her. She had done it. She was closer than she had ever been. Now she just had to make him trust her even more.
She bowed her head to hide the light that swirled in her eyes. She bit her lip, attempted to appear pensive, and perhaps a little afraid. "I––I s-see," she whispered. "T-thank you for telling me, Uchiha-san…"
Sasuke was silent, waiting for her response. It was then that she noticed the stack of papers next to the medical equipment––the NDA just for her. He had planned this rendezvous.
"If…if it is okay with you," Hinata said, finally looking up. She was shocked to see him looking back, his hands in his pocket, his face open and non-judgmental. He was taking this seriously, and it made something in Hinata's chest fill with pressure. He seemed to…to care about her. "I w-would like to continue working with you as––as long as I don't have to do any Y-Yakuza stuff––"
Sasuke barked a laugh that startled her. He seemed to accept this answer readily, turning to the desk to finish cleaning up. "Trust me, Hyuga, that's far above your pay grade."
He was making plenty of jokes today of all days. That told Hinata that he really did enjoy this work…this lifestyle. She had seen it in the way he had held the gun. What else did his uppity law office hide about him? What was the interior life of Uchiha Sasuke really like?
She was intending to find out. She smiled at the joke and nodded. "Okay. Well…I appreciate your honesty. I r-really like this job and how it relates to my schoolwork, so I would v-very much like to keep it. B-besides…I haven't died yet?"
Sasuke looked for her for a long moment and shook his head. His smile remained however, and Hinata might've even heard a chuckle.
"Get some rest, Hyuga," Sasuke said as he opened the office door for her. He was almost three inches taller than her, and she felt his warmth as she walked past time. "Charge your ride to the company card. I will see soon."
"Bye, Uchiha-san," Hinata said as Sasuke shut the door, remaining in the office to take a call.
She walked out into the living, intending to get out of this place as soon as possible, when she walked right into Naruto, Shikamaru, and the body.
It was a white-haired man about their age––riddled with bullets to the torso. He was all red; gore and spilling intestines.
Shikamaru tensed visibly when he saw her, but Naruto shrugged and said, "Sasuke had the talk with her. She's good, right Hinata-chan? You're not quitting, right?"
She had the good sense to look nauseated for her audience. "U-Um, no! I'm not I––"
"Just go then," Shikamaru drawled. "Before you throw up everywhere and we have to clean it up."
Hinata didn't bother wasting any more words. She practically ran out of the townhouse and down the street, content with ordering her Uber on some faraway corner.
As she bent her head to finally order her car, a pair of large minivans rolled past her with the windows down. Hinata peered into the window of the first one and saw none other than Uchiha Fugaku looking forward, a grim twist to his mouth.
Yes, she was closer than ever.