A pair of strong hands swept through her hair before coming to rest gently on the nape of her neck. Hinata felt her body melt, her knees buckling, her arms reaching and tightening around a torso, wrapping under the arms, her fingers clutching rippling back muscles. She tilted her head back, feeling mouth, then teeth––biting, no nibbling––at the thin skin of her neck. She felt a shiver go through her body as she moved closer, although they were already chest-to-chest, a knee between her legs, just slightly pressing––and the pads of fingers fluttering across her belly, like kisses, inching up her stomach.
Hinata became jittery with anticipation, letting her head fall back even more-–her neck now attacked by deep kisses, full lips, hot skin. She jutted forward, the knee becoming more firm, the grip becoming tighter, the hand making a low dance under the thin lace of her bra before boldly skimming over the pillar of her nipple. She arched reactively into this cupped hand, filling it, as it closed softly and when Hinata looked up, almost ready to surrender––almost ready to ask––Uchiha Sasuke looked down at her, his eyes as dark and as vast as the deepest part of the ocean and––
Hinata woke up panting. It was a quick wake––springing up so fast she got whiplash and promptly had to sit back down, laying her head on her pillow and pretending like her nether regions weren't in need of immediate attention. Her heart felt like a spinning coin inside her chest.
Red-faced, Hinata slowly got out of bed, immediately reaching for the glass of water at her bedside. Just what was that about? she thought, blinking at some dark corner of her bedroom in moderate confusion and residual longing––she needed to do away with that part very soon. But as she gulped down huge sips of water she couldn't help but think of the bare hands she had felt on her stomach––
But that wasn't real! She blamed the wine she and Ino had consumed with vitality, and the lessons on seduction that Neji had planted in her brain and that Ino had happily assisted with. Not to mention that she and her boss had essentially trauma bonded the day before, forever having to live with the memory of almost being murdered together. And then, of course, the memory of her flinging herself into his chest, them landing, and the sensation of his breath on the top of her head.
As an agent, she was allowed to make time slow down in that way, but that didn't make it appropriate or of sound mind! Hinata drank more water quickly, choked momentarily, and then put the glass down as she hacked. Her phone lit up just as her hand was leaving the glass.
An email from Sasuke. She opened it, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as her cheeks burned with the memory of a dream, and quickly skimmed the short paragraph. He was taking the day off, and was expecting her to do the same.
Perhaps out of guilt or shame for simply having a dream that was completely unprofessional, Hinata emailed back, her fingers quick against the touch screen of her phone. No, she typed reverently. There is much to do. I still have to reschedule with Kaguya, and there's still more editing to be made on the new contract. Nara-san already told me he is expecting it and I would hate to let him down!
Hinata got up and almost made it into her closet for her work clothes Ino had chosen the night before, when her phone pinged once more. Sasuke had gotten back to her immediately––fast for a man taking off work. Hinata stared at the message, not knowing whether to be irritated by his stubbornness or grateful for the chance to have a slow day.
If you come in, I'm firing you, Hyuga.
Hinata found herself scoffing––the man was practically begging her not to quit not 24 hours ago––and held the prideful, fulfilled feeling she got from the thought of this deep inside of her. She kept having to remind herself that she was an agent. She didn't own any part of the ego she was growing.
And that made her deeply sad. She sat back on her bed and responded to Sasuke's email, before falling back against the blankets, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. Great. She was an emotional disaster this morning. As she laid there, her hand traveling to the snug hem of her underwear, she began to think of the few men she had ever been with, and how none of those experiences held a candle to the longing and expansiveness of what a dream could conjure.
Only Kiba had come close––and their sex was immature, awkward, yet delicious. It had the essence of a certain release––they had been close friends and field partners for years, it only made sense that they would eventually find their bodies close together, their skin finally knowing what they had only dared to do in daydreams.
They'd only had sex twice. Once, when they were drunk; it was playful, sloppy, and a welcomed distraction. And a second after a difficult mission; it was heavy, sorrowful, and full of a certain type of yearning that wasn't for each other. They never spoke about what happened between them, but sometimes Hinata still found herself thinking about Kiba's hard touch, the clumsy way he laid their bodies, and the feeling of his gold necklace tickling her nose with each thrust.
Sighing, Hinata took her hand away from her underwear and began to get up once again. She was disappointed; she'd ruined her self-indulgence with disquieting thoughts, something that happened to her quite often. She quickly showered and dressed and walked around her big apartment with a sense of unease that wasn't readily filled with homework, Dramas, or ordering food.
She found herself wondering about family as she sat with her legs crossed on the big rug. Sasuke seemed to be very protective of the people in his life––Hinata wondered what that was like. She only really felt that way about Hanabi, who didn't much need her or her worry any more.
She'd lost contact with her Uncle Hizashi years ago––they'd only met four or five times when she was very young. And now she was pretending to be his daughter, when she rarely even thought of the man––she hadn't in years. One of her few memories of him was of the shrine he kept in the small yard of his home, and how one night she helped him carry bowls of fresh oranges as an offering to their ancestors.
Suddenly, she stood to her feet and raced to her phone, her hands sliding over the keyboard as she purchased a round-trip, bullet train ticket to Osaka.
It was her off day, after all. Maybe she should spend it getting to know herself.
-:-
Three hours later, Hinata got off the train with a familiar buzz in her chest. Osaka––though she hadn't been there since she was a small child––brought within her such a feeling of warmth that she was surprised by its impact. She stood for a moment at the train station, letting her eyes drift around her.
In a daze, Hinata found her way to the taxi stand and called one to her Uncle's home in Shinopoincho. More familiar sights filled her vision as they drove past the Tosahori river, the smell of water passing through the open windows. Hinata watched as tall buildings began to pop up around her––Konoha was larger than Osaka, but still Hinata had underestimated its size. The sun was doing a shy dance behind the heads of buildings, illuminating the sky a brilliant blue.
It was a beautiful, cloudless day.
Fifteen minutes later, the taxi was pulling down a narrow street and Hinata gratefully placed yen into the man's hand. She grabbed her travel bag and stepped onto the cobblestone sidewalk, looking up in sleepy-nostalgia as she took in the sight of her Uncle's home. It was beautiful: a two-story building, with both modern and traditional style architecture. The second floor had a balcony with green railings, where large plants spilled their leaves outside the bars. The building itself was concrete mixed with warm brown wood on either side of the windows. The front gate was wooden with a matching green door.
Hinata remembered her mother holding her hands as they walked up those stairs. The door, at that time, had been red. Hinata tested the knob of the green gate––open––and pushed through the door. A sprawling garden greeted her as she carefully walked on a path of gently-laid stepping stones, interspersed by blades of bright green grass, sediment, and tiny flowers, until she got to the front door.
She hesitated here. What was she supposed to say? It was true that Hizashi knew that Hinata was posing as his daughter, but that didn't mean he'd signed up to see her––or even treat her like one! It had been years since they'd seen each other. Hinata felt silly as she stalled there, having already crossed into her Uncle's property and boldly let herself wander the garden. It was too late to go back.
Hinata knocked on the door.
Nearly immediately, the door sprang open. In its place was a small woman with deep-set crow's feet sculpted into the curves of her eyes. She was wearing a casual sweatsuit the color of grass and was holding a broom and dustpan with her other hand. Her face immediately spread into a smile when she saw her.
"Hinata-chan!" She said, dropping the broom to the hardwood floor. She reached out and grabbed Hinata into a big hug; she was stronger than she looked for her size. "Look at you! I didn't know you were coming––well, of course I didn't," she amended, holding Hinata at arms length before bringing her back in for a second hug. "But I'm so glad you're here!"
Hinata, engrossed in a hug like no other, managed to not be shocked by the woman. The more she spoke, the more her voice nudged at a memory locked away deep inside her mind. When the woman finally stopped hugging her and ushered Hinata into the foyer, the memory clicked into place.
"Kimi-chan," Hinata said slowly, as she took off her shoes. The house was just as bright as she remembered––windows everywhere. It was clean, elegant, and modern. "I––I didn't know I would come back either. How are you? How is Uncle?"
Kimiko fixed Hinata with a small look at the word Uncle, which told Hinata everything she needed to know.
"I am well, child. Better now that you're here," the woman said. She was practically shoving Hinata into the kitchen. "Of course, there's the normal problems that come along with being an old bat like me. My back has been killing me, and I'm afraid I'm losing my eyes."
Hinata sat on a curved wooden stool that Kimiko shoved towards her. She watched the tiny woman go to the stainless steel fridge and pull out stacks upon stacks of tupperware. When she turned to face Hinata, giving her a glass of water, her eyes did look quite cloudy with age.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Kimi-chan," Hinata said, cupping the glass. "I wouldn't have known if you hadn't said anything––you look almost exactly the same as I remember."
"Tuh," Kimiko merely shrugged. "I'm lucky your father keeps me around. If not for him, I'd be working at some pachinko, wiping down those awful, greasy machines."
Hinata caught that Kimiko had known to call Hizashi her father. Kimiko turned and placed a few pieces of microwaved kushikatsu in front of Hinata, gesturing for her to eat.
"You look like a stick," she said crassly. "What are they feeding you in Konoha, eh?"
In truth, Hinata hadn't been eating very much. The mission was difficult to process and there was always so much to do; food wasn't very high on her list of priorities. Hinata felt warmed by Kimiko's flutter of movement, the maternal instinct she seemed to have. It felt like Hinata had never been gone at all. It felt like she and Kimiko had met hundreds of times, not just four or five.
Kimiko had been Neji's live-in nanny for many years, and she took care of them all when Hinata's family would visit, diligently feeding, bathing, and watching over the children as they played. Kimiko had been hired shortly after Neji's mother passed away from an illness. After Neji left for B6 at 15, Hinata assumed that Kimiko and Hizashi had decided to reconsider the terms of her employment. It seemed like Kimiko acted as some sort of domestic worker.
"How is father treating you?" Hinata said with interest, taking a large bite out of a chicken kushikatsu. The juiciness of it made her eyes sparkle.
"Oh the old man let's me do whatever I want," Kimiko boasted as she returned the tupperware to the fridge. "Sometimes, when my knees ache I lay in bed and do nothing all day and he calls in food or hires a cleaner––can you imagine that? Paying me to lay around all day, then paying some other person doing my job. I couldn't ask for anything better."
"You mean a lot to him," Hinata guessed. With his wife and Neji gone, Kimiko had been with her Uncle the longest. Hinata felt something twist inside of her uncomfortably––Hizashi had really been alone, without family, for all of these years. Hiashi and Neji went along like the man didn't exist–––she guessed she had, too. She was a part of the problem.
"Yeah, well, he means a lot to me too, Hinata-chan." Kimiko patted her on the shoulder as Hinata lowered the skewer. "How long are you stayin? I imagine you've got a busy schedule in Konoha to get back to."
"Just for the day," Hinata said, feeling sad that she hadn't thought to plan for longer. She hadn't expected such a warm greeting from Kimiko––or that the elderly woman would be there at all.
"So short," Kimiko whined endearingly. "Well, your father won't come home from the office until around 3pm––but maybe I'll text him and tell him I have a surprise!" She snickered like a mischievous child.
"Do you…do you think he'll be happy to see me?" Hinata looked nervously at her plate. "We––we weren't very close."
"That's not your fault, child," Kimiko said, waving her hand as if Hinata's statement were irrelevant. "Your visit will make him happier than anything, trust me––and oh! Do me a favor?"
"Sure," Hinata nodded, ready to do almost anything to make this woman's life easier for her.
"Grab those oranges and take them to the shrine for me. You remember where they are, don't you? Through that back door?"
Hinata saw the bowl of oranges on the circular kitchen table, and nodded. Then, she looked towards the kitchen wall, where a sliding door led to the back of the building.
"Of course, Kimi-chan. I would be honored."
A few minutes later, after washing her dishes and rubbing her full belly, Hinata found herself wandering into the back gardens, holding the bowl of fresh oranges. They were bright in color and looked juicy too––they would be the perfect offering. As she walked through the garden, she inclined her head and sniffed. It was full of delicious things like mint, basil, and cilantro. Plump tomatoes bloomed straight from the ground like magic, and Hinata wondered if it were Kimiko or Hizashi who had the green thumb.
The shrines were beside the back gate, and when Hinata walked towards them, she gasped. In her shock, she'd even managed to drop a couple of oranges, which rolled between her feet and stopped at the beginning of the shrine.
The largest photo was of Hizashi's late wife, of course, but beside her was a small portrait of Hitomi, Hinata's mother.
Hinata felt herself falling to her knees in front of the shrine, tears immediately springing to the corners of her eyes. Hiashi had not honored his own wife in this way, and for some reason, Hinata had not thought to do it herself. But finding this was like opening up some sort of door inside of herself, and the grief poured out in long streams. She felt her chest constricting in pain as she looked up the photo, tears blinding her vision, but still she saw: Hyuga Hitomi sitting on a park bench, her glossy hair––so similar to Hinata's––tucked behind her ear. Her mouth was open; she'd been caught mid-laugh.
All around Hitomi's portrait were cut flowers, bits of basil from the garden, and a little golden piece of jewelry that glinted in the light.
Hinata thought about the person her mother had become after re-training, how the bags under her eyes grew more prominent each day. How when she smiled, it didn't look genuine. How she woke up with nightmares every night. How, when she woke, she began her routine of offerings-–-–a freshly baked strawberry shortcake for the woman she'd killed in a far-away city, a cornish hen for her partner she wasn't able to save, a bowl of pomegranates for the children she couldn't protect.
She couldn't help but divorce this mother from the mother in the photo.
Before she knew it, she was sobbing. It wasn't something that she did often––it was frowned upon––but here, in the shade of this oak tree, in a small corner of a garden in Osaka, she opened her chest and her throat and let all of the heavy, ragged sounds come out. The jagged breathing. The moans of pain. She hunched her head over, her chin digging into her chest, as snot fell onto her top lip. She was making a mess with herself, clutching the bowl of oranges into her abdomen so hard that she was sure that the ceramic bowl had left a line against the skin of stomach.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Hizashi standing beside her, back-lit by the sun. He was almost identical to her father, except he'd cut his hair to his shoulders, and wore it at a tight knot at the top of his head. He was wearing casual clothing: a button-down shirt and jeans, and he easily lowered himself beside her without removing his hand.
Together, they sat in the dirt.
"My daughter," Hizashi said lightly, teasingly, as he reached over and took the bowl from her lap. He gently took the oranges out and placed them in front of the photos of both women. "I didn't expect to see you here. If I had known you were coming, I would have asked Kimiko-chan to prepare a big lunch."
Hinata looked at the man with wide wide eyes. How easily he spoke to her like they were truly father and daughter––like they knew each other well, and had for a long time.
"You're not…angry?" She found herself asking, her face still a wet mess with her sobbing.
"Why would I be angry?" He asked keenly. Hinata watched him light a stick of incense with a lighter from his pocket. The smell of sandalwood filled the air.
"I-I don't know. I haven't come to see you in some years..."
"I don't blame a sheep for having wool," Hizashi said, which made Hinata frown. Just what did that mean? "I'm just glad you've finally come to visit. We're family, after all, right?"
She nodded, looking down at her fingers which were shaking and agitated from her grief. Still, she felt guilty, but it seemed that everyone agreed she had no control over how often she could see her uncle. After a while, her family had just stopped making the trip.
"You've honored her," Hinata said, finally pulling her eyes away from the photograph of her mother, to her uncle, who's eyes shone brightly. He looked peaceful, somehow. Like he had come to terms with everything that had ever happened to him. "Why?"
"She was family," Hizashi said simply. "She deserves a place in someone's shrine. Besides, you were too young to remember, but she and my late wife were the best of friends. This is what Aiko would've wanted. To sit next to your mother."
"I didn't know that," Hinata said in a small voice, looking at the portrait of Aiko, who was smiling at the camera like she had a secret.
"Yes, that's how this garden came to be. Your mother and Aiko would spend hours tending to it, while you and Neji played around them, and your father and I took long meetings in the office. I upkeep it myself out of respect, though I've found it very therapeutic in recent years."
"It's beautiful," Hinata said, unable to keep the awe out of her voice. Suddenly, she wanted to know absolutely everything about this man who was her uncle. He seemed full of life––why would Neji want to run away to join a life of fighting and unrest? Why would he choose her father?
"You look like you have questions, daughter," Hizashi said. He had a funny little smile that played on his mouth every time he said the word. "You know, I've always wanted a daughter. Aiko and I were trying for another child after Neji, but then she got sick."
"I'm so sorry," Hinata whispered, gaze drifting to Hizashi's warm eyes. They were so different from her father's that it startled her.
Slowly, Hizashi rose from his crouched position and held out a hand to Hinata, which she accepted gracefully.
"I've had Kimiko-chan go out and grab us some lunch," he said, heading back towards the sliding door. "Come with me to my office, I've got something for you."
"Oh," Hinata said, blinking. She followed her uncle inside, leaving a parting glance with her mother, hoping she could feel how much Hinata missed her.
-:-
"Wha––what is this?" Hinata said, startled. In her hands, she held a crisp envelope stuffed full with a few jumbled notebook pages. The handwriting was unmistakingly her sister's. "Where did you find this? Did she come here?"
They were sitting in Hizashi's home office––a lavish thing on the second floor with a sky-light and sleek furniture. When they got there, Hizashi sat at his desk and began rummaging around an iron safe below it until he pulled out the envelope and promptly handed it over.
"Hanabi relayed to me some sparse details of your mission about a month ago," Hizashi explained, speaking of his role playing her father. "I'm not sure why my own son did not come, but that is neither here nor there. While we spoke, she dropped off this letter for you. She said she would be back with another one soon. I'm expecting a visit in a couple of weeks––maybe you might come by?"
Hinata bit her bottom lip, holding the thick envelope tenderly between her fingers. It was strange of Hanabi to do such a thing…stranger still, to leave it with a person she barely knew.
"Did you read it?"
"The affairs of special agents are not my business," Hizashi said, his voice, for the first time, taking on a hardened edge. "I would prefer if you read that letter once you are in the privacy of your own home. Perhaps you have one…not owned by the government?"
Hinata's face froze. Hizashi was certainly saying some strange things over the course of the day. Gingerly, Hinata tucked the letter under her leg, feeling the roughness of the paper against her bare thighs. "Understood, father."
"Good," he said, a tender smile coming back to his face now that that business was dealt with. "Now, you have something you want to ask me."
"I––I do?" Hinata wondered, her eyes flickering to the reclining man. Hizashi looked so at peace Hinata almost didn't believe that they were a part of the same family. If it wasn't for his matching face, she would've thought he and his father were from different parts of the world entirely.
"Yes," Hizashi said, nodding. "You want to ask why Hiashi became Command, and I did not."
Hinata looked at him with wide eyes. Her questions actually had more to do with Neji than anyone else. She hadn't even known that there was an option for Hizashi to take over. She blinked before nodding obediently––like she was talking to her father. "Okay. Yes. Why?"
"I didn't want to," Hizashi said simply, surprising her once more. "Your mother, father, and I had already worked for Tsunade––the Hokage––when she was originally sworn in. After the Great War she was persuaded into founding the Byakugan6 Agency in secrecy. We were the closest to her, my brother and I, and so when the time came for leadership…she approached us both.
But I was tired already of working such a difficult life of seclusion, only speaking to my twin and your mother. Your mother was our good friend of many years––did you know that? She was the best of us. It's rumored that Tsunade approached her to be Command first, because on top of being accomplished––a genius, even––your mother was unbelievably compassionate."
Hizashi shook his head, a far away look in his eyes, while Hinata sat stiffly, in shock. Her mother? Being asked to be Command? A genius? While that certainly explained Hanabi's skills…Hinata had never thought of her mother as anything other than a subservient wife, a diligent mother, and a hard working agent. As she fell into motherhood, she even stopped taking the higher ranked missions, already lost in her delusions––most of the sacrifices, guilt, and malaise were caused by assignments she'd completed earlier in life.
"You don't believe me," Hizashi said sadly, though his tone was not harsh. "I understand. Once Hiashi was sworn in to become Command, he and Hitomi got married and she dedicated herself to him entirely. It disgusted me, frankly. I'd never seen anything like it—she completely changed. By that point, I was already mentally checked out. Hitomi wasn't the friend to me that she had once been, and Hiashi was far gone on a power trip. I quietly left the organization and moved to Osaka, where I finished the degree I had started in secrecy in Konoha."
Unable to process what her uncle had said in completion, Hinata merely nodded and said, "And that's where you met Aiko?"
He nodded. "Yes, we married after I completed my MBA. My company was just a startup––one dinky hostel with big-time investors, thanks to Hiashi. After I opened my first big hotel, Aiko and I had Neji. We only heard from Hiashi and Hitomi during the holidays until they finally had you––then, I think, Hitomi desperately wanted to foster a familial relationship for you. But once Hitomi passed away, Hiashi stopped bringing you girls around."
Hinata chewed on this small picture of family history. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with this information, or why it was relevant, or even why she needed to know it right now with Hanabi's confusing letter sitting pressed under her thigh. She felt her eyes begging to sting again; she was overwhelmed with memory in this place. Memory and loss.
"Why are you telling me this?" She finally asked.
Hizashi paused to consider, then looked at her, something she couldn't name in his gaze. "Well, Hinata I––"
"Hina-chan, Hizashi-kun, I'm back!" Kimiko's voice came from the downstairs kitchen, her tone more lively than Hinata felt by far. "I've got barbecue! Come eat!"
Hizashi just pressed his lips into a thin smile as he stood from his desk. "It's important to know your history, daughter. It can provide context. It can help you decide what your options are."
"O-options?" Hinata had never heard of such a thing.
"Mhmm," Hizashi said. He stood at the door, waiting for Hinata who slowly walked over after tucking the letter into her back pocket. Hizashi took her arm in his, and patted it kindly as they began to walk down the stairs. "Options. Including coming down to visit an old man every once in a while. I know your life must be extremely busy and complex, but it's nice to play pretend, right?"
Hinata looked into Hizashi's warm lavender eyes and found herself nodding. Pretending. Isn't that what she's always done?
An. Hyuga Chapter and our last morsel of mystery. Let the games begin!