He was alone in the Boroughs that night, with Naruto claiming he had a hot date in a bar downtown. Sasuke had allowed it easily, stating that they would switch places next time.
He took a detour, taking his time until he came upon the locker. He visited the armory, where he switched out his pistol with one with a higher caliber, and slipped this into his waistband. He briefly checked in with other close Syndicate members who seemed to be lounging around, drinking white liquor on the tree-facing engawas, south of the compound. One thing about the Boroughs was that it was a welcome place to socialize, as long as Fugaku wasn't in a piss poor mood. Which was often. It seemed to be a good night.
"Hey man," Sasuke said, spotting a friend who was lounging on the engawa with a book on his chest. The sun was slowly climbing down the trees, casting orange rays, and the man would lose his reading light soon. "Long time no see."
Shikamaru cracked an eye open. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, his lanky body spread across the wood. He sighed when he spotted Sasuke like he'd just been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. "Is this about my PTO?"
"I don't fucking care about that," Sasuke rolled his eyes. He extended an arm, and Shikamaru grasped it, standing easily to his full height. Shikamaru was an old friend to him, and an important member to the Syndicate––in many cases, he was the brains of several operations, working closely with Fugaku, Itachi, or Sasuke depending on the situation. He also worked at Sasuke's law firm as Chief Strategist. Though Itachi's campaign manager, Kakashi, had almost tried to steal him away.
Most recently, he'd been visiting a town over on syndicate business. Sasuke wasn't too keen on the details––he figured he would be told what he needed to know and that would be the end of it––but he knew that the trip had taken weeks, and that Shikamaru had been negotiating some hefty trade relationships with a gang called Suna.
"Good," Shikamaru said. He lit a cigarette and stared down at the grassy fields around them––this part of the compound was no garden paradise, but even the grass glowed like gold under the welcome sun. "'Cause Kakashi is still trying to recruit me for Itachi's campaign."
"Hn," Sasuke had no comment. The man could do what he wanted.
Shikamaru looked at him, "I heard about Karin, man. Sounds like shit went under the moment I left."
"Don't give yourself too much credit," Sauske said. He gestured for the cigarette which Shikamaru gave him. "Sakura earned Itachi a 20 percent lead over the other guy."
"Good for her," Shikamaru said. "How's she doing anyway?"
Sasuke thought about the golden bracelet in his pocket. The edges of his pants were still slightly wet. "She's shaken up but okay. Practically back to normal because she called me today, pissed about the new assistant I hired because she's friends with that model you fucked last year."
Shikamaru snorted, relighting the cigarette between cuffed hands; a playful breeze had come from the trees. He tltled his head towards the sky as if remembering, then smiled slyly. "The Yamanaka? I forgot she and Sakura were friends…or whatever they call themselves these days. In any case, that sounds like a bother. Maybe you should fire the new girl and save yourself the headache."'
Sasuke hadn't considered that, mostly because he didn't want to. He didn't allow Sakura to interfere with his work and besides…Sasuke shrugged and said, "the new assistant intrigues me. I'm keeping her."
Shikamaru raised a thin eyebrow, "oh?"
"Don't give me that look," Sasuke grunted. He thought of Hinata leaving the stack of papers on his desk only a handful of hours before, concentration creasing her eyebrows as she pointed out her hand-written notes before she left. He could see how hard she was trying, and that confused him. "You sound like Naruto."
"So you want the headache," Shikamaru surmised. He extinguished the cigarette on an ashtray beside his book, crouching down to cradle the small ceramic vessel; another one of Mikoto's creations. "Not my funeral," he said as the light went out. "But hey, maybe your new headache can get me Yamanaka's number? It's been a while…"
"Now you're just being opportunistic," Sasuke said, but he was grinning. He enjoyed Shikamaru and their easy conversations. Aside from Naruto, he was the closest thing to a friend Sasuke had.
"Opportunity's knocking," Shikamaru said. He sat back down on the engawa, picking up his book. "Are you going to answer?"
Sasuke chuckled and left his friend without a response. Shikamaru would have to get the model's number himself. Still, it gave him pause to think about the little network that was unfolding. What were the chances his new little assistant would be best friends with the vibrant, exuberant, and loud, Yamanaka Ino? Even so…what were the chances that Yamanaka Ino would get with someone like Nara Shikamaru?
He didn't have enough time to ponder life's mysteries––there were simple enough answers anyway: the Hyuga was a part of an elite class, and so was Yamanaka. Opposites attract. Etcetera, etcetera. Sasuke entertained these thoughts until he came upon the locker, where the man with the bowl-cut was recovering from their last rendezvous.
Sasuke observed him through the window for a while before he entered, watching the man look blankly at the wall, his lips still swollen from a few days prior. He looked to be in better condition, however; Shisui had done a good job cleaning him up.
Sighing, Sasuke entered after he had stalled long enough. The man watched him pull up a chair and sit across from him, not making eye contact. Sasuke leaned back lazily and raised his hands: a peace offering.
Bowl-Cut followed his hands, but didn't flinch. He looked at Sasuke blankly, saying nothing.
"Listen man," Sasuke said mildly. He was thinking about the beer in his refrigerator and the Wednesday-night game, and the conversation he'd just had with Shikamaru. "I want to make this easy for both of us. Why don't you start by telling me your name?"
The man looked up as if he were about to speak, puffed up his cheeks, and spit at him.
Sasuke didn't react at first. This was going to be a long night.
-:-
Ino loved everything about Hinata's closet. She planned out Hinata's outfit for the next week and a half while Hinata typed out her notes on the B6 laptop with an intensity that seemed foreign, even to her.
Still, she didn't have much to report on. She wrote about her new job, Itachi and his rally, and what she'd overheard from the shadows. She wasn't any closer to gaining these people's trust, but she was surely in the thick of it. It would only be a matter of time.
Once those messages were transmitted, she switched gears: her first class. The textbooks were heavy and full of jargon Hinata couldn't understand, and she slowly made her way through with a highlighter and a search engine by her side. While she read through the Introduction to Corporate Law, Ino sung show-tunes in a low alto, which surprised her.
"So you grew up with Sakura," Hinata said, attempting to make conversation as she sat on her carpeted closet floor. Ino was still arranging clothes. "Does that mean you grew up with the rest of them?"
Ino looked up from the blouse she was holding, wrinkling her nose. "God, no," she said. "For me, I come from new money. Completely different circles. The Uchihas are old money––most of it is fucking filthy, too. Naruto––his law partner––grew up with Sasuke, though. I think the Uchiha's adopted him. All those boys went to boy's private school out in the country somewhere."
"And Sakura?" Hinata pressed. She wanted information she couldn't find in a dossier.
"The Harunos are new money, too, but their pockets are deeper. We went to a private school together in first grade and became fast friends. As time went on, we developed a petty rivalry that's carried into adulthood. I might've…stolen two or three of her boyfriends, but it's all in the name of healthy competition," Ino said. She sat down next to Hinata, curling her legs under her as she looked at Hinata's laptop screen. "You got number five wrong, by the way."
"Oh," Hinata blushed. She was doing a practice-test on the chapter she'd just read. "Thanks."
"When I took horseback riding lessons...Sakura too horseback riding lessons; when I became a model…Sakura became a model, that sort of thing. She doesn't have to be a model or do anything like that––she's brilliant and well-bred––she just did it to spite me. She's Konoha's sweetheart," there was an edge to her tone, a hot note of jealousy.
Hinata looked at her as she said this, cocking her head to the side. "Does her being Konoha's sweetheart help make Sasuke's image better?"
She didn't follow Konoha's entertainment scene very much. She'd never even glanced at the chummy, "celebrity" gossip magazines that littered convenience store counters. If Ino had been on the cover of Vogue, Hinata would not have known. This was all new to her. Her bubble was expanding––if it hadn't popped already.
"Absolutely," Ino said, nodding. She pointed to Hinata's screen, and shook her head. Hinata changed her answer again. "Sasuke's always been known as a rebel, and once he and Sakura started dating, it softened his image completely. Here," Ino pulled out her phone.
Hinata discarded the laptop completely and leaned over to look at Ino's phone. She showed her screenshots of past tabloids; Sasuke and Sakura holding hands walking down the street, Sasuke holding Sakura in the ocean, his arms around her waist, Sakura wiping ice cream from the tip of Sasuke's nose. "Corny shit like this––totally planned. Itachi was known as a more serious guy, so when he got married to Izumi, nothing really changed. He's just thought of as a family man now. A real politician."
"Hmm," Hinata thought about this. That made sense; they all had images they had to craft to stay afloat. "Well, w-what about you? You're a model and you know these people––do you love them?"
Ino didn't shy away from the question, but instead she turned inward. Hinata watched her face darken as she closed her phone. They both sat on the floor still, their shoulders touching.
"I…" Ino frowned. "I have love for Sakura. I've spent time with Sasuke and Naruto, too, and have enjoyed those moments. But my position is specific; different from yours. It's my job to socialize in these ways."
Somehow, Hinata didn't quite believe her. What was worse, the response was closed off––the door had been shut. Hinata had gone too far. Ino wouldn't be honest with her; there was no trust in the room.
"I see…" Hinata said quietly. She closed her laptop and brought her knees to her chest. She'd have to make a leep eventually, but what would it cost her?
Did she truly want to befriend Ino? Could she trust her? What was at stake? All Hinata knew was that she needed to be successful if she was ever going to be free.
Ino got up and resumed the outfit planning. Hinata watched her thin frame as she held different pieces up, a furrow in her brow. Ino was an incredibly intelligent woman, sharp, and dignified. She was careful to give Hinata just enough, keeping the real stuff to herself.
But Hinata noticed she wasn't all in. What sort of agent loved the people she worked against? What made this woman's life so complex? Why was she in such a position in the first place? Did she even want to be in it?
Hinata licked her lips. She straightened her back. She folded her hands. "Ino I…" she started. "I need to be honest with you if we're going to be…to be friends," she said. Ino turned, surprised, giving Hinata her full attention. "I n-never wanted to be an agent. I-I've never had true friends outside of B6. This…this mission is supposed to free me if I am successful, so can you help me? Can you help me make true connections?"
Despite herself, she felt her eyes well up with tears. She'd never had to confront this sort of thing before. Before this, she dealt in quick retrievals, scouting missions, and simple assassinations. This type of work took more of Hinata than she ever thought she'd have to give.
Ino just looked at her woefully, releasing a cloth between her fingers. "Hinata…" she said once she saw the honesty in the other woman's eyes, the true fear, the lack of confidence. She watched Hinata shake as she cried for the first time in days, grinding her face into her knees.
She was in this strange new world and she was completely, utterly alone.
"Oh, Hinata," Ino whispered again. She dropped to her knees beside her, hesitantly winding an arm around the shaking girl's shoulder. "You're not supposed to be here. Why would they send you?"
-:-
After Sasuke was finished with Bowl-Cut, he went into one of the rooms in the Boroughs for a first-aid kit. He didn't want to come home again with bloody knuckles and have Sakura question him about it. She was well versed in Syndicate affairs, but she still kept her distance. They weren't married yet.
He leaned against the table, slowly and meticulously wrapping his knuckles. He hadn't gotten a word out of the man once again, and he was afraid that they would have to resort to more…adventurous tactics. The whole thing annoyed Sasuke greatly. Not only did he not understand where his father had even procured this man, he didn't know what specifically he was supposed to be getting from him.
It was mysterious, but Sasuke didn't have the time to think too deeply about it. Sometimes Fugaku just did things on his own and told his sons to deal with the consequences. Sasuke understood it was hard to run a crime syndicate, but the man could be more communicative!
As he wrapped, he heard voices coming from the south-facing engawa. It was late in the evening now, and most members had gone inside to watch the game or had gone home. Sasuke leaned his head to the side as he heard his older brother's voice lift.
"I'm sorry, Shisui, but I don't believe you."
Sasuke squinted as he processed this. It was rare for the two men to be in disagreement.
"You know Fugaku-sama wouldn't make the decision to put me back in the Military Police by himself," Shisui was saying back, his tone flat. "He stands by his word. This was someone else's––"
"Are you saying you know my father better than me?"
Sasuke heard clothes shifting. Shisui's voice came halting, "No. No, 'tachi, I would never say that. I just…" a sigh. "I was comfortable here in the Boroughs doing fucking clerical shit, and now suddenly I'm back in the belly of it. Even Fugaku-sama expressed that he was disappointed to send me there and not have me on call here. I just––I just don't think this was a decision he made."
"So what are you saying?" Itachi's voice had a hard edge, different from the tone he usually reserved for Shisui.
"I just think…" Shisui was silent for a long moment. "Things are unraveling. Things feel…weird. I'm having nightmares, Itachi, about you and your new family. About Sasuke. KMP is a bad place for me, and Fugaku-sama knows that and vowed to keep me away after what happened…"
There was another long silence. More shifting. Sasuke went to the door, saw the dark edge of Itachi's suit as he sat on the edge of the engawa. Shisui was in the dark blue color of the Military Police trousers, wearing a white t-shirt tucked into the pants. He watched as his brother slowly took his hand, and placed it against Shisui's cheek. He held it there for just a moment, saying something quietly that Sasuke couldn't hear. The sound of it disappeared into the night.
"I know," Shisui replied. He held Itachi's hand as he let it fall, their fingers entangling. And then they weren't touching anymore. Both men faced the forested trees. "Just be careful, okay?"
"I don't have to be careful," Itachi said, but this time his voice was back to the familiar hum that fell over him whenever he spoke to Shisui, his oldest friend. "There is no Big Man, Shisui. There is only my father."
Shisui said nothing. Sasuke watched their backs as he finished tightening the bandages.
Then he went home, tucking this private conversation he'd overheard into the deep abyss of his memory. He had enough to worry about on his own.
He felt tense as he got into his car, his knuckles throbbing. He was worried that the new, well-behaved Sasuke that he was now wasn't going to last very long. He was buckling under the pressure.
An. A transionary chapter for this week. Things pick up from here, buckle up!