Immediately, Hinata dropped in a low crouch.
Hinata heard another thud as she pressed her body against the bookcase and considered her next move. She regretted––for the first time in the entire trip––that she hadn't had the chance to grab a weapon, and while she didn't doubt that there was one in this very room, she didn't have time to find it. Her heart thudded in her chest. She would have to use her hands.
Truthfully, she loved using her hands, but not out on the field, where things were unpredictable, where people easily used guns to take down their targets. Hinata continued alongside the bookcase until she crossed over into the bathroom.
She remembered sitting there with Sakura and Ino just hours before. On the left side was the closet, on the right was the bedroom. Yes. She remembered Sasuke's form hovering in front of the doorway that morning, digging through his bags. On both occasions, they'd kept the door open.
Good. Hinata would be able to sneak in unnoticed, without the distraction of a hinge turning. Inside of Hinata's head, Dove grinned.
Dove loved stealth. She was one of the most quiet agents there were, which is why she was good for retrievals and reconnaissance. She even remembered the parts of the floor that creaked when walked on, and carefully stepped over the divet and into the bathroom, silently formulating a plan.
She grabbed an iron paperweight she'd noticed on the bookshelf and slipped into the bathroom––and this time, the noises were much louder and…much stranger. There were more thuds, but they were almost rhythmic and the cries…
Focus, Hinata thought. She couldn't make assumptions about what was happening, she needed to make sure Sakura was okay. The bathroom lights were still on, and so were the bedroom's. When Hinata finally crossed the threshold and made it to the lip of the room, her jaw hit the floor.
Naruto was pushing Sakura up against the dresser, the force of his movements sending various books and perfumes crashing to the floor––but he didn't stop. Sakura wrapped her bare legs around his waist as Naruto, naked, rocked into her. Sakura moaned loudly, and Hinata watched her throw her head back as her red fingernails danced through his hair and fell down his back.
"Naruto," She cried, as his head dipped to her neck, and more items scattered. "Naruto I––"
A small sound, likely only detectable to Hinata's trained ears, distracted her, and her head snapped in the direction of the other door. Quickly, red-face, confused, Hinata walked towards the exit––grabbing her laptop, left on the lip of the tub from hours before––on her way out.
She closed the door softly just as Sasuke entered the room, looking surprised to see her there, but not upset. Internally, Hinata felt like screaming. Why had she closed the door?! Did she not want Sasuke to find out about his wife's and bestfriend's affair? Could that work in her favor or could it hurt her?
And why was she feeling so hot and weird?
Focus, It felt like Dove was yelling at her. She had to calibrate. She thought of the mission. Yes. The mission. She would have to sit on this new knowledge until she figured out what to do.
"Hinata," Sasuke said as Hinata stood stiffly, her hands full of her laptop and the paperweight she was planning on using as a weapon. "What are you doing in here?"
"I––uh––I left my um––" she was blubbering lamely, still shocked by catching such an intimate act in its climax. She held up her laptop sheepishly, one phrase repeating through her mind Sakura is cheating on Sasuke, Sakura is cheating on Sasuke, Sakura is–––
"Are you okay?" Sasuke asked.
"Y-yeah," Hinata nodded, then swallowed. Right. She didn't want Sasuke to know yet.
She didn't want to hurt him––
Wait. Hinata didn't want to hurt him? Her head swam.
"I just, um, got scared by s-something," she answered, instead of thinking. "I––I thought I saw a mouse."
Sasuke looked at her with an amused twist to his slips, and suddenly Hinata was reminded of the iron paperweight sitting in the crook of her arm. "Ah…" he said, gesturing. "And…were you going to kill it yourself?"
"Uh––" Hinata stuttered again, her face turning even more red somehow as Sasuke outright laughed at her. He took the paperweight from her and balanced it in his hands as if testing its weight. "I––um–––I think I panicked?"
Sasuke was still laughing as he reached behind her head and set the paperweight on the bookshelf. In the same reach, he traded it for a bottle of alcohol, whistling. "I didn't know you had it in you, Hyuga," Sasuke said, still just as amused. Hinata didn't think she'd ever heard him sound this way before. "You're a little hunter, huh?"
"Oh never! No!" Hinata raised both hands innocently, and her laptop fell to the floor with a thud. Dammit! Now Sakura and Naruto would know someone was in there! She was really, really frazzled by the whole thing, never having encountered a situation like this in all of her years of spying.
Sasuke raised his eyebrows as he bent to retrieve the laptop, and tucked it under his arms. "I can practically feel your anxiety, Hinata," he finally said, laughter gone. "Are you coming back out? I'll pour you a drink."
"O-of course I'm coming back," she agreed, nodding. She probably could use another drink.
"Excellent," Sasuke nodded and stuck out his arm. She grabbed it almost immediately––so fast, that it was concerning. But she pushed back that thought and the other one: Sakura is cheating on Sasuke, Sakura is–– "Shikamaru suggested a game of drunken Shoji and it's fascinating to watch him when he's like that."
"I can't wait," Hinata thought, willing to do almost anything to scrub the image of Naruto and Sakura out of her mind.
What the hell was she going to do, now?
-:-
Once Izumi was safe and sound, tucked deep into their king-sized bed and fast asleep, Itachi slipped out of the room.
It was well past two in the morning, but he knew that he would still be awake. Shisui rarely slept––was always awake practicing some hobby or reading some book. Sometimes, when Itachi would go to Shisui's apartment in the early morning, Shisui would still be awake after his Graveyard shift watching reruns of his favorite sit-com, or making an elaborate breakfast he'd found online.
Tonight, Itachi found him in one of the lobbies, curled in a chair with his face in a book. His hair was curly and wet; he'd just gotten out of the shower. At his side, was a small glass of rum––leftover from the group's gathering on the patio. The ice had already melted fireside.
"What do you want?" Shisui said, not looking up though he had already heard his footsteps. "I thought we weren't talking?"
"I never said that," Itachi said quietly, as he sat on the couch beside him. His hand ached––he wanted to touch him but did not. "I––Shisui, how are you?"
"I don't believe it matters," Shisui responded, sounding bored. But that was a lie, and both men knew it. Shisui had been straining the entire shape of the trip––his body composed in tense lines, his face a flat glare, his mouth curled in disdain. He hadn't even tried to have a good time, despite the fact that he enjoyed traveling––loved sightseeing, and was a bit of a food fanatic himself.
But they hadn't spoken since the baby shower, and every room Itachi entered with Shisui in it became tense and awkward with the silence falling across their shoulders like a musty blanket. Suffocating.
Itachi didn't know what to do. On one hand, he had been furious with Shisui––blindingly angry at the man's lack of foresight, the nerve to reach for Itachi and not the mother of his future child; on the other hand well…Shisui had likely saved his life. No. he had. He had a healing ear to prove it.
So what was Itachi really angry about? Well, there were a few things: the fact that they couldn't be together, his loveless marriage, his intense career, Shisui's insistence that Fugaku was being played like a fiddle…
Not to mention how busy Itachi was all the time, between doctor's appointments, campaign speeches, and the press. He was still getting calls––all fenced by Kakashi––about his last minute drop out of the debate. Luckily, nothing about the baby shower attack had leaked. His father was taking care of things well in their absence. Did Fugaku even need sons? That's probably something the man regrets, Itachi thought with an amused twist to his mouth.
The amused twist to his lips didn't sit well with Shisui, who went unanswered as Itachi got lost in his thoughts. Itachi quickly schooled his face––he was always too comfortable about Shisui––and looked at him with an openness that was reserved for very few people.
"It matters," Itachi said, tactlessly returning to the conversation at hand. "It's always mattered, Shisui. You know that. You know that I––"
Shiui turned his head, his chin lifted. The book in his lap was forgotten, its pages upturned as it slid off his leg and onto the ground. He didn't move to pick it up. Shisui wasn't going easy on him: He was making it as difficult as possible.
"You know that I care about you," Itachi said, voice breaking at the end.
"And?" Shisui said flatly. "You care about me and…what? Because I know what you are to me. I'm in love with you, Itachi, and I've always been very clear about that, but not once have you offered those words to me."
"I know," Itachi said, feeling something in his chest constrict. "I know, Shisui, but I have––"
"Izumi," Shisui filled in easily, a sigh in his voice. He bent to collect his book from the ground, looking disappointed, as if he had been expecting a different outcome. "And the election. And the duty to your father. It's the same conversation over and over again, Itachi. I don't mind…hiding this, whatever it is. In fact, it's easier that way––the guys at the station are taking me seriously despite everything. But you can't just decide to start talking to me again when it's convenient. It doesn't work that way."
Itachi, feeling the largeness of the situation suddenly, was at a loss for words. It was rare for him, this silence––nothing coming out. He was a remarkable speaker––smooth, suave, articulate, and convincing––he had a quick wit and a charismatic smile when it mattered, but today words failed him.
The night had been long between shopping in the valley with Izumi, dropping her off at the spa, taking meetings with Kakashi and his team, Sakura's dinner, and finally drinks around the fire; yet, Itachi scarcely saw Shisui. He'd turned up at the dinner, but disappeared shortly after.
"I'm sorry, Shisui," Itachi finally said, wanting to level with him, but Shisui refused to stand, and the only other chair was across the room, and so Itachi could only look down on his friend uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for what I said in my bedroom. I should not have been so harsh. You took a bullet for me and I was angry at you for it."
"Itachiiiii," Shisui sighed, stressing the i sound in his frustration. The hairs on the back of Itachi's neck bristled––Shisui only did that when he was becoming angry with him. "I don't fucking care about that––when are you going to understand that? I'd take a thousand bullets for you, I'd become your goddamn bodyguard if Fugaku-sama hadn't put me back in the force. I don't need you to apologize for being an asshole. You're an Uchiha––you're always going to be that way."
He slammed the book shut in his lap and stood. He was only about two inches taller than Itachi, but the difference mattered. Itachi watched his usually kind eyes fill with a certain kind of sadness. This was not going how Itachi had planned.
"I can make it up to you. We can have the whole day and––"
He thought…he thought they could skii together, tomorrow. And have dinner before departing. He even thought about scheduling a Spa day for Izumi, and meeting Shisui in his hotel room, and apologizing with his mouth. He thought, quite a bit, about the hardened edges of Shisui's body––but the soft spots were his favorite. His full cheeks. Ear lopes. His stomach when he drank too much. The pad of his foot. His fine, curling, eyelashes.
Itachi had miscalculated how badly he had fucked up. All of his wishes were disappearing before his eyes.
"And you still don't understand," Shisui sighed, shaking his head as he collected his sweater and glass of hard liquor from the table. "I need you to tell me that you're in love with me, too. That's all. That's it. That's all I'm really asking for. That's all I've ever asked."
"Shisui…" Itachi couldn't explain why it was so hard for him. His mouth filled, but the words were hallowed––empty. It's not that he didn't love Shisui…it was just that loving him, and saying it outloud, made things too real. If he admitted he was in love with his best friend, he would have to change everything about his life.
And he really didn't have time for that. His cellphone in his pocket was buzzing. His dreams of lounging in bed with his lover dissipated like wind through a cloud.
It was selfish, but he thinks he deserves this. He could reach out and touch it, everything he's ever wanted, but it was always just out of reach.
"Right," Shisui said, his eyes blank, his mouth a fine line. He turned his back on Itachi with a finality that Itachi hadn't been prepared for. "I think I've had enough."
-:-
Hinata was having a hard time holding her liquor.
It was nearly three in the morning, and she was curled into the couch beside Ino, who was loudly swearing at Shikamaru––he'd just beat them all at a mean game of Uno.
"He's a strategy God," Ino had fake-whispered; fake, because she was also drunk off her ass.
Hinata had played too, but she couldn't get the image of Naruto and Sakura out of her head. It was miserable. Everytime Sasuke spoke, her heart leapt into her throat. Her mantra repeated itself in one long line, Sakura is cheating on Sasuke, Sakura is cheating on Sasuke, Sakura is….
"Are you okay? You look sick," Sasuke said, eyes on her as he walked behind the couch to go to the ice bucket. Hinata couldn't believe he could stand to have another drink after everything. She daydreamed about a bath––but the thought of nakedness brought back the sight of Sakura and Naruto and what they had done to their friend, and the urge to vomit became overwhelming.
"How c-can you drink more?" she questioned, trying to change the question to be less focused on herself.
"Uchihas can hold their drinks," he said simply, evenly. "This is for you."
Hinata took it once Sasuke confirmed that it was just water, and she swallowed it down in a few hearty gulps. Right. That felt better––clarity of mind. She bristled as Sasuke sat down next to her, between her and Ino, and leaned forward to look at her deck of cards. He had proclaimed the second Uno! just minutes before, now she and Ino were just playing until one of them lost.
Everyone else trickled out. Sai left shortly after his and Sasuke's fight, Itachi and Izumi retired to bed, and Sakura and Naruto were…well…you know.
"Uno, bitch!" Ino cried, slapping down her second-to-last card. It made a thwack sound that resonated through the stoned patio.
Hinata looked at her four cards in disdain––none of them spelled a win for her and she dropped them onto the table, giving up. Ino whined in response but Shikamaru raised his drink to her and began to gather the cards in his hands to re-shuffle for another game. It seemed that they would play all night.
"Wait 'til I get back," Ino said, jumping up from her seat on the other side of Sasuke. "I wanna get my charger."
Everyone nodded as she left the patio. Sasuke didn't move to take her place, instead he leaned forward to look at Shikamaru, a sudden seriousness in his gaze. Hinata wondered if she should leave too––but no. Dove banged her fists against Hinata's cranium as if saying remember why you're here! And Hinata settled back into the couch, trying to make herself invisible.
"Have you spoken to Father?" Sasuke intoned to Shikamaru. He rested his chin on his knuckles, elbows firmly planted into his knees. Hinata could feel how warm his body was and resisted the urge to lean further into it. "He won't answer my calls."
"We're in mixed company, you know," Shikamaru said plainly, eyes flickering to Hinata. He wasn't hiding his displeasure, or the fact that they were edging on something Hinata wasn't supposed to hear. She made to get up––dramatically, perhaps––but she was also drunk, so it took some effort to escape from the nook of the couch she had taken over.
"She knows," Sasuke said, tossing a look in her direction before swiveling his head back to Shikamaru evenly. "Enough, anyway. No need for details, but I wanted to ask since it's on my mind. I feel like I'm in limbo, being out of the country like this. What about you?"
Shikamaru frowned, agitated with this news. Hinata could tell by the way he tugged his collar, but he moved on––nothing could be done. Dove had won, Hinata thought, a different sort of smile––a private smile––curling up inside of her.
Shikamaru flicked his gaze towards her––distrustful––but then he seemed to give up. His tense posture deflated as he stretched out in a leather arm chair, his fingers curling around his own glass of liquor. "Yeah, it's a drag. I feel that way, too, surprisingly. You know how I love a vacation."
"Do you?" Sasuke questions, his lips quirked up. Hinata watched this with interest,
"Well––not really. It's too much work––traveling––but you get what I mean. I shouldn't be thinking about this shit when I'm in fucking Italy. I know there's a bigger task at stake, but being sent out early just feels like a punishment."
Hinata snorted at this, then squeaked when both sets of dark eyes landed on her. She turned even more pink than she already was from the alcohol.
"Something funny?" Sasuke turned his head to look at her, dark eyes boring into hers. Hinata felt like she couldn't look away. Dammit.
"I–it's just…excuse me," she said, reversing course. "I don't mean to interrupt a private conversation."
"It's not really private. Apparently." Shikamaru shrugged, and his irritation with Sasuke suddenly came back. Seriously, what was his problem? "Go on, Hyuga, tell us why you laughed."
Now Hinata's entire face was red. Damn this alcohol, it was making her slip up! "I just––I just um…think it's funny that a trip to a private villa and five-star hotel could be considered…a punishment?"
A silence came over the three of them.
Then Shikamaru shrugged and said, "Fair enough. But to answer your question, Uchiha, no, I haven't heard from him. Fugaku-sama is angry enough at you as it is. Why cause problems for yourself? We should focus on the task as is. That's the rational thing to do."
"Fine," Sasuke said, but his voice was slightly apprehensive––a note Hinata had never heard before. "I see your point. Besides, I can't harass him from here, so I guess he was onto something."
"Let's just try to be successful when the time comes," Shikamaru suggested. He turned his head when he saw Ino coming back onto the patio, her pink phone charger in hand, and a smile stretched across her face when she watched him begin to deal cards again. "Understand what I mean?"
"Obviously," Sasuke replied. The conversation closed as Ino sat back down.
Hinata felt privileged with information––but somehow, undeserving. After all, the memory of what she'd seen only hours before continued to echo through her consciousness. Her heart felt confused and heavy, thinking––only––of Sasuke.