"Is there a problem, here?"
Sasuke was trying not to lose his goddamn mind. He had seen the way Sabaku Gaara was looking at Hinata all night, and it wasn't sitting well with man's eyes were hungry ones. Cavernous. Sasuke implored him to look somewhere else.
Behind him, Hinata was pink. Her eyes were wide as saucers as if she was shocked. She was unmoving. What the hell had Gaara been saying to her?
While Sasuke and Gaara had personally never met, Sasuke knew him––like everyone else did––as the Sand Demon. He was notorious for his ruthless trafficking, how he moved drugs with a slight of his hand, like sand through the cracks. It was why Fugaku had wanted to work with him so badly, so they could join their lines without fighting over territories.
His story was a dark one, but mostly legend at this point. He was disowned by his family at 15 and on the streets for years after. It wasn't until he was 21-years-old and known as the "Sandman" that he began to be recognized for his ruthlessness, his skill, and his intellect. When his father died, the rest of Suna voted Gaara back in charge, and he'd ruled ever since with an iron fist.
It was impressive for a guy so young, but Sasuke wouldn't be intimidated by him. There were very few people Sasuke was intimidated by and this red-head freak wasn't one of them.
Then, Hinata grabbed his arm, her eyes pleading, "S-Sasuke, let's just go. It's no big deal I––"
"We were having a private conversation, Uchiha," Gaara cut in, voice flat. His serpent-like eyes flickered behind Sasuke to Hinata, and Sasuke shifted.
"What could you possibly be discussing with my assistant?"
"Your assistant?" Gaara snorted without humor. He lifted his chin––exposing his neck––his hands tucked in his pockets: unafraid. And rude, frankly. "Tell me, Hinata, how many lives have you lived?"
Hinata said nothing back, just wavered behind Sasuke like a lost dog, her hands tucked behind her, her neck and cheeks completely red with exertion.
"Silent now that you've got an Uchiha bird to protect you?" Gaara goaded, eyes sharp, words with some sort of warning Sasuke picked up on. "This is my house. I demand answers."
"I gave you answers," Hinata said, her voice a push of air and then some. Sasuke turned suddenly, saw her hair flying out of the knot she kept it in, her eyes welling. "I told you! I––"
She looked distraught. Sasuke's eyes widened at the sight of this, thinking, something is really wrong here. There was a familiarity with which the two of them spoke that made Sasuke uncomfortable. Decidedly, he turned his back on the Sabaku boss and lifted Hinata's chin. Her skin was so hot. He pressed his thumb against her cheek, holding her there.
"Calm down," he demanded, watching her chest heave. She was anxious, almost debilitatingly so. Her eyes were pained in a way he had never seen. What happened here? "I told you I've got you, right?"
Behind them, Gaara was laughing. "Are you so bold to turn your back on me, Uchiha?"
Hinata grabbed Sasuke's hand before he could whirl around, eyes flashing hot embers. She held him there, shaking her head minutely, eyes pleading. No. No. No. This was not supposed to be how the night was supposed to go. Sasuke was there to ask for help and––
"I apologize for upsetting you, Gaara-sama," Hinata suddenly whispered, bowing so low, her hair unraveled around her shoulders and touched the floor. "I am a guest of Sasuke-sama, nothing more. If his fianceé, Haruno Sakura-san, hadn't gotten sick, she would be here, not me. I swear that to you."
Sasuke wanted to ask her to stand up, but this statement seemed to quell Gaara's tantrum. Before Gaara could say anything else, Ino and Shikamaru came swiftly to join them, Shikamaru attempting to diffuse the tension with a solid shove to Sasuke's stubborn shoulder. He let himself be pushed back as he watched Hinata rise, the pink beginning to fade as Ino took hold of her hair and attempted to put it back. Her face had closed. Gone was the anguish, gone were the tears. In its place was a smooth, almost placid, expression.
Shikamaru was bowing to Gaara, apologizing on Sasuke's behalf. "It's a misunderstanding," he was saying. He looked at Sasuke out of the corner of his eye, "I'm sure Sasuke meant no harm…"
Sasuke was forced to swallow his pride––and it tasted disgusting. He saw his father's stern face in the back of his head as he did so. If he did not get this done, he'd be banished for the rest of his fucking life. "Right. Shikamaru is right, Gaara-sama. I apologize for my rudeness."
"Hn," Gaara had taken his hands out of his pocket and was brushing his hair out of his face. "Don't let it happen again."
"Of course not, sir," Shikamaru drawled, quasi-lazily because Sasuke could see through his act. The man was stressed. "Should we look forward to our meeting later this evening?"
"Temari will send for you," Gaara said. He gave Hinata one final, piercing look, before walking away.
-:-
Hinata got out of there faster than she could blink. Not long after Shikamaru was opening his mouth to ask what the fuck was going on did she make herself throw up in her mouth. It wasn't a skill she usually employed, but it got the job done.
Both Shikamaru and Sasuke blanched as her cheeks filled. Ino quickly led her into the adjacent bathroom. Luckily it was closeby. Hinata threw up what was in her stomach––not much from the looks of it––and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. When she stood, Ino handed her a piece of gum from the depths of her clutch and just stared at her.
"Do they teach everyone to do that?"
"Not everyone can learn it," Hinata said, meekly, as she bent to the sink to wash her mouth out. Ino was another person she didn't want to answer any questions from. She just wanted to leave. She felt scrubbed raw and open, like the back of her throat after puking. She bit the gum and it made the bitterness of her mouth taste frozen. Yuck.
"Hinata? Want to tell me what the fuck is going on––"
The door opened. Sasuke stood in the doorway, eyeing them both. Then he inclined his head to the left and Ino understood. She left the room as swiftly as she had entered it.
Hinata felt her heart thud. Was there no time for rest? Her body tightened as if she was expecting to be hit or reprimanded––or both. What did Sasuke think of her now? Was he angry? Had she ruined everything? She looked down at her feet, hidden by the dress, and the tiny tiled floor, which glinted like water.
He did not touch her, but there was a tenderness in his gaze like he was watching a hurting animal. They had ventured into unknown territory, the two of them. Finally, he reached out and tucked a stay hair behind her ear, watching her still.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm f-fine," she lied, blinking up at him. "I'm so sorry if––"
"We will talk about it later," he said. This was a demand. Sasuke knew something was amiss, he was no idiot.
"Stay away from him," Sasuke said as they pulled away. "I don't like the way he looks at you. If I had known you two had a history––"
"We don't," Hinata cut in, noticing how aggravated Sasuke's voice had become when breaching the subject. "I mean…not presently. It's––it's hard to explain."
"Like I said, we'll talk about it later. Whatever it was, it clearly upset you," Sasuke turned to the door, but was stopped by Hinata's hand.
Gently, she pulled him back. His collar was messed up from where she had hugged him, and she carefully readjusted it. She thought of placing the bug on him, thought of slipping it off her bracelet right then, and making it do its job, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She couldn't bring herself to do much else, anymore. She just smiled and kissed his cheek when she was done.
She thanked him for his grace and was taking a step back when Sasuke grabbed her by the waist and kissed her fully on the lips. Her body loosened as they deepened the kiss. She saw stars.
When they broke apart, Sasuke told her to stay with Ino at the banquet tables while he tried to make amends.
-:-
Ino and Hinata sat at the banquet tables in silence. They were served three courses, but Hinata could barely remember what they were. She felt like she was floating in space––too far from her body to know what she was even putting into it. Ino stabbed her plate with her fork repeatedly, and it was a wonder that she didn't break the damn thing.
She and Hinata didn't make eye contact, but Hinata could feel that Ino was pissed at her. Unfortunately, now was not the time to clear anything up––and besides, what could she say? That she hadn't expected 19-year-old No-Name Gaara to grow up to be 27-year-old Sabaku Gaara of Suna? Because really, who would expect that?
It was the Fates that had it out for her, Hinata decided, as she dug her spoon into a crystal cup of Gelato. It was strawberry flavored, and should've delighted her, if she didn't feel like she was going to break down every five minutes. Ino continued to ignore her as she fiddled with her phone, no longer interested in the social gymnastics of a birthday party.
Shikamaru and Sasuke came and went––though they still had not had their meeting with Gaara. They ate dinner quickly before disappearing together outside of the hall. Then, they came back and had coffee and dessert. No one spoke besides the two of them, and the words they had exchanged were short––clipped. Not meant for Ino and Hinata's ears.
When the music got louder, and the night grew longer, Hinata became uncomfortable in the upholstered chairs, the frilly tablecloths, and the stifling environment. The guests moved like pigeons, all roving towards the same warm light: the dance floor, the bar, Chiyo and her entourage of elderly. Gaara, Temari, and Kankuro sat behind her, surveying the crowd like they were their servants.
"I'm going to the garden," Hinata told Ino––mostly to be polite, because it didn't seem like Ino had any interest in speaking to her at the moment. "Would you like to c-come with?"
"I thought Sasuke told you to stay here?"
Hinata just looked at her, frowning. Since when did they do what Sasuke told them to do? They were agents, not servants. "He's not my keeper."
"Seems like you need one," Ino said crossly, eyes on her acrylic nails. They were deep fuschia and matched her dress.
The comment stung, but Hinata didn't let it phase her. She collected her belongings and went towards the door. She would have to make it up to Ino later.
There were fewer people in the gardens. It was still warm, but a slight breeze did make Hinata shiver. Despite that, she continued onward, nosing towards rose bushes and climbing ivy. There was no moon in the sky, but the garden was lit with fairy lights. She traced a path until she came to a bubbling fountain with floating candles and rose petals bobbing along the surface. When she stuck her fingers into the fountain, she could feel herself breathing a little lighter.
As she sat on the lip of the fountain, Hinata found herself wanting to do something she hadn't done in weeks, for fear of being seen: she checked her phone for the private network shared between her and Kiba. The two of them had created a shared website years ago––after Hinata's first solo mission, in fact–– which they used to send messages in case they found each other far away. The messages used a lot of double talk surrounding corporate speech. Though the site was private, if it were to be hacked one would just find a bunch of threads discussing office culture.
For example, "downsizing due to change in management" meant that the mission was wrapping up, and they should be home soon. When Hinata wrote that she was worried she "wasn't fitting into office culture," over a year ago, it meant she was scared of failing the mission. When Kiba mentioned "happy hour" three months ago while picking up some files from a secure location in Okinawa, it meant he'd gotten good news.
So it concerned Hinata when she pulled up the website, typed in her password, and saw that a new thread had been added. These days, Kiba and Hinata used the website sparingly, so when Hinata pulled it up, she was half-expecting to find entries from months ago. But it was two weeks ago when Kiba had last written––too recent for comfort, and just after Hinata had left for Italy. The title said, "What to do when the mailroom guy keeps putting my mail in the wrong box?!"
Hinata blinked at the screen. That meant Kiba had a message for her. Hurriedly, sweat gathering once again on the back of her neck, she clicked it. But Kiba hadn't said much. All it read was:
For the past month he's been leaving my new mail in box number 852 instead of my box. Mind you, my number is 976, so it's not even close! What do I do? The guy is 25 years old so he should be able to read. I've tried talking to my boss about it but he says it's an HR issue. Honestly, I think he's out to get me, I've missed 5 time-sensitive messages this month alone!
Yours in Postal System Stress,
Yusuke
Hinata replied, hands slipping on the keyboards so hard the screen shook. Have you tried switching the box numbers? Perhaps it's about muscle memory. -Keiko
Her message wasn't code for anything, it was a simple acknowledgement that she'd seen it; but Kiba's certainly was. She memorized it front to back again, acknowledged the chill that went down her spine when she read the numbers, and closed her phone. Kiba had a message for her. And something told her it had to do with Hanabi.
Hinata's teeth grinded in agitation. There was too much going on. Always, too much. Not once had she had a simple day this whole trip. She cleared the search history of her phone and felt resigned in her helplessness; she'd have to think about Kiba later. Besides, she could see Ino glaring at her from the banquet tables. Hinata dusted herself off and went back inside.
"Right on time," Ino said, slowly applying her lipstick with a compact mirror as Hinata took her seat beside her. She still didn't look at Hinata. "Six O'clock."
Ino handed Hinata the mirror. Hinata pretended to fix her bangs as she watched the reflection of Sasuke and Shikamaru, far back near the ice sculpture. They were talking to Temari. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest. Sasuke looked pissed.
"Whatever they came here for," Ino said, sighing as Hinata snapped the mirror shut and handed it to her. "They're not gonna get. I can promise you that."
Hinata's stomach dropped. Somehow, that was her fault.
-:-
"C'mon Sasuke, let's just go home," Shikamaru begged, his voice edging on exhausted. "It's over like Temari said. He doesn't want to meet with us."
Sasuke was seething. He wanted to wring that red-headed bastard's neck. All he had needed to do was talk to old lady Chiyo and yet––
"Fuck," he said, fists clenched. Now what were they supposed to do? He paced outside, near the fountains while Shikamaru chain smoked. So that was it? Gaara could just deny them, just like that? Suna said fuck whatever the Uchihas had to offer? And what about the relationship Shikamaru had painstakingly built? Sasuke could break something.
"I don't think tonight would be productive," Shikamaru suggested, dropping his cigarette in the water and fishing out another one. "Clearly there was an outlier, something we didn't account for. We have a few more days. I'll connect with Temari tomorrow."
"Besides," Shikamaru continued. "Gaara likes Naruto. I'm sure it'll be fine and––"
He stopped speaking when Sasuke's eyes flashed. Failure was never an easy look on an Uchiha, especially one as high-up as Sasuke. Shikamaru sighed and clamped a hand on his friend's shoulder; it was all he could offer.
"But I have to ask you, man," Shikamaru said, looking up into the hall where Ino and Hinata were drinking champagne, their heads close together. "What are you going to do about Hinata?"
Sasuke looked up, eyes so dark they looked red against the fairy lights. "And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"