04: The Badger.
Friday, April 7, 2017, morning
King and I hadn't had any contact with each other for two full days. It had happened several times that we hadn't written for a whole week, but lately these radio silences had become rarer and especially this one felt highly unpleasant after the abrupt farewell on Tuesday. I just hadn't had the guts to open my-desire for fear that he wouldn't be online – or that he would be and I would have to talk to him and pretend that I didn't mind that he was meeting other wome. Was I just one of many for him? He had written to me that he loved me, but by now I wasn't sure if that was true. I had heard that there were men who feigned affection for a woman in order to enter her briefs. Was King one of those putzes? Was that his ploy? Had I fallen for it? Previously, I hadn't thought at all about whether our "relationship" was exclusive. Of course, in my position I hadn't had any alternatives for the last few years anyway, but I had never thought that he was a normal person who probably went out partying on weekends, had fun with changing partners and could give free rein to his sexuality. Not everyone was as obdurate as I was.
Then, as in almost every free minute, the kiss with Madara came to my mind and, and like every time, a tingling sensation spread in my stomach at this memory, radiating into my chest and abdomen. It had been my very first real kiss and God damn it, it had felt good. In Madara's eyes, I had certainly been far too inexperienced and bad, but at least it was good enough that he had been aroused by it.
As I sat so absently in my chair in lecture hall 41-B, listening to Hatake's lecture with half an ear and staring at the whiteboard, my brain suddenly connected something I hadn't considered before. And this realization tore me out of my mental slugg. I jerked my head off my hand so abruptly that I noticed Shino staring at me from the side in surprise. I just threw him a small smile as an apology and looked ahead again, without even noticing anything of my surroundings.
A fact had rummaged out of my memory, which I had hardly paid attention to on Tuesday. I had indeed noticed it, but it had simply been lost in all the flood of details that I had absorbed from Madara and still hadn't processed properly, as I could now realize. Madara Uchiha, the multi-layered clan leader of the Akaiisan-kai, had veiny hands. Was he King? His timbre matched the one time I'd heard King's voice, and the stature and dark clothing would hit the mark as well. For a moment I was excited, about to jump up and look for Madara, when two new facts that pressed themselves into my brain dampened my burgeoning euphoria: First, Madara didn't seem like the type of person who used smileys when writing, and second, and this was much more decisive and much more dampening than number one, he was at least thirty and Hiashi's business partner. No, neither of these were attractive qualities.
Out of a sudden curiosity, I minimized my writing program on the laptop and opened the browser. After a quick sideways glance at Shino, who indifferently stared forward, I tilted my laptop slightly so that he couldn't see what I was about to do. At the top of the screen I typed into the search bar: 'madara uchiha kyoto'. Tens of thousands of hits were shown to me, many of them dealing with the Akaiisan-kai, their bloody past, the war between our clans, various court hearings regarding all kinds of crimes, and even outside of organized crime, there were many reports about the success of the Uchiha Corporation or decadent weddings of clan members. It was truly a mass, but it was not unexpected. However, I was surprised when I opened a few of the links and noticed while skimming through the texts that Madara himself appeared in very few of them at all. One or two mentioned him by name as the head of the Uchiha Corporation and Akaiisan-kai, but in most cases he was not even part of the report. Presumably, Google ignored his first name in my search query and simply spat out everything that could be found in connection with 'uchiha' and 'kyoto'.
Madara's abstinence on the Internet, on the other hand, did not surprise me at all. He was still a yakuza who knew how to keep himself covered. And the media had a habit of giving a damn about privacy. The only articles that were actually about him as a person were the report of an annual upper-class fundraiser in Kyoto, where he had donated a whopping sum to the good cause, and what felt like a short profile in a dime novel. Ironically, it was exactly what I was looking for. It was in English, but luckily I understood the language well enough.
\\Madara Uchiha is an extremely mysterious man. On December 24, 1973, he was born in Kyoto as the firstborn of Tajima and Himari Uchiha./ Madara was forty-three?! He never looked like that! Shit. That made the age gap even worse and the probability that he was King leveled off at zero. Nevertheless, I couldn't stop reading. Even though I mentally crossed him off my 'Could possibly, under certain circumstances and with a lot of imagination be King's true identity' list, I was interested in the person who was behind this strange and, yes, as the author had so aptly described it, mysterious man. \\The family lived in poor conditions and Madara and his brother Izuna, who was four years younger, had to learn to take care of themselves at an early age. Because of gambling debts, his father Tajima got on the wrong track and got involved with the Kyoto-based yakuza, where he quickly worked his way up to boss. In 1981, Tajima founded his own syndicate, the 'Akaiisan-kai' (Japanese: "Society of Red Heritage"), and in a short time gathered many followers of his own clan around him, including his two sons. Madara joined in 1987 at the age of 13, Izuna followed in 1992 at 14. Both boys made a name for themselves in their society that earned them the respect of their followers. In 1993, the Akaiisan-kai became involved in a war with the Yakuza syndicate Gin'nome-kai (Japanese: "Society of Silver Eyes"), led by Hirotaka Hyuuga. Tajima initially kept his sons out of the fighting, but when the situation escalated in 1994, both parties suffered heavy losses. Izuna Uchiha died in a stabbing at the age of 16./ I involuntarily gasped but ignored any reactions from Shino. \\The mother Himari then took her own life at the age of just 36. These events shook the Uchiha family deeply. Tajima led the Akaiisan-kai into further battles against the hostile clan, but Madara initially disappeared from the scene until he reappeared in 1999, two months after his 25th birthday and only a week after the fatal assassination attempt on his father and took over the position of clan leader. Under his hand, the fighting against the Hyuuga clan subsided over the following years, and many insiders claim that he was the driving force behind negotiating a truce between the Akaiisan-kai and the Gin'nome-kai, which the latter agreed to in 2001 under the leadership of Hiashi Hyuuga, Hirotaka Hyuuga's eldest son, after his twin brother Hizashi was killed in an assassination attempt by the Uchiha. Since then, it had become quiet around Madara. He rarely appears in public, and nothing is known about his private life. Rumor has it that nowadays he is not only the managing director of the Uchiha Corporation, but also continues to act as the clan leader of the Akaiisan-kai. According to sources, he continues his business underground, but acts no less bloodily than his father did during his lifetime. It is unclear whether there is any truth to these rumors, but the success of the clan's company is undisputed. It was not until the beginning of 2017 that Uchiha Corporation entered into a profitable merger with the technical division of the–/
Here I stopped reading. The rest of the article dealt with the cooperation of some companies and how blatantly the market value of the Uchiha Corporation had risen as a result and what not, uninteresting Wall Street drivel. What I wanted to know, I had read, but it hadn't done me much good. Now I didn't know what to think. Sure, Madara wasn't clan leader for nothing and Hiashi didn't have respect for him for no reason and then there were all the rumors that the Gin'nome-kai told each other, but somehow I hadn't expected how brutal Madara's past really was. At thirteen already a yakuza, at twenty he lost his brother and mother, at twenty-five he finally became the head of the Uchiha. The man had been through a lot and now I understood a little bit of his manner. He had distanced himself from the world, had been dismantled by it into pieces. And he acted accordingly.
Lost in thought, I looked at one of the few photos of him that was shown to me when searching for pictures. On it he wore his usual, expensive, black suit and sunglasses. His shiny, black mane was slightly ruffled by the wind. He stood smoking and with a cell phone to his ear in front of an inconspicuous building and spoke obviously animatedly. The motif and angle of the photo almost seemed like from an observation and I had to smile for a moment. He really didn't often leave his protected ranks of the Akaiisan-kai.
"I will destroy your father's empire, with all that is in it." This sentence has been haunting my head since Tuesday. I would do the devil and tell Hiashi about this obvious threat. Especially from what I had just read about him, Madara didn't seem like someone who wanted another war between our clans, but he was planning something, and the only question was when and how he would strike. And what the fuck I had to do with it. He had said he didn't want to hurt me and I should resist and what not, but he could easily claim something like that. He was a self-confident man and not for nothing head of the Uchiha; It was certainly easy for him to take what he wanted. "What do you want, Hinata?" At that moment, it had certainly only been related to the sexual tension between us – oh shit that something like this had happened at all was more than questionable given both of our positions and the age difference – but my brain spread the question to everything else. Yes, what did I actually want? I wanted my suffering to end, to get away from Hiashi, to never have to attend a meeting again. I wanted to determine my life, my body and my future alone and fuck, Madara was right: To achieve that, I had to resist. But how? My fear of consequences and punishments was far too great. A gang rape was not on my bucket list, once was more than enough. No. As long as Hiashi still had such power over me, I couldn't resist. My fear of him was just too engaging for that.
"Well, I'm done with that for today," Hatake said in a loud voice and around me my fellow students began to pack their stuff. I jerked up. Madara was still looking at me with his eyes, covered by his large sunglasses, which glowed red despite the dark lenses – but maybe I was just imagining it. "Hm?" I said, looking around confused.
Shino, who was about to shove his laptop into his backpack, had his eyebrows crumpled together and said in his monotone voice, "The lecture is over."
"O-oh.. Yes.. I.." I laughed insecurely. "I-I must have been dreaming."
"Seems so," Shino replied, swinging the backpack on his back and himself somewhere else.
With a bright red head, I closed my own laptop. The yawning emptiness in my notes was depressing and I immediately felt guilty towards myself and my father. Oh, and another candidate for this miserable feeling just climbed up the long steps towards the exit. Kakashi Hatake looked even more tired today than on Monday, although I wouldn't have believed that this had been possible. His hair was messed up again and his beard shadow grew leisurely into unclean stubble. I didn't even want to start with his animal hair cardigan in vomit green. The man was simply the spitting image of a neglected man in his mid-thirties with depression and/or alcohol problems. If you took a picture of him now, you could use it well as an advertising poster for support groups. 'Say NO to drugs, come to us, we have an open ear for every premature midlife crisis.' I was reluctant to talk to him, but today it was not because of his appearance, but rather because of what had happened on Monday and what I was about to do.
"Um.. Hatake-sensei?" I asked quietly.
This time he noticed me directly. He looked at me, smiled faintly and I thought I perceived something like a brief glow in his eyes. But it could also be that they just weren't quite so dead for a second. "Hinata, hello. How are you?"
"I'm fine," I replied, because I didn't know what else to answer to this question, especially since I didn't know if he really asked about my well-being or if it was just this classic kind of superficial small talk. "I-I.." I swallowed and again there was this racing heart. BREATHE! I slowly filled my lungs with air, emptied them again and said in a somewhat firm voice: "P-please forgive me, but I'm afraid I wasn't very attentive today. Would it perhaps be possible to obtain documents for today's lecture and also for Tuesday's?"
Hatake's eyes narrowed a little. "Are you really doing well? You look quite tired."
You have to say, you filthy rag.
Fuck, did I say that out loud? No, Hatake's expression had not changed. I smiled shyly and prayed that he hadn't accidentally mastered the ability to read minds like Madara supposedly had. "Yes, everything's fine. I had a bit of stress this week, but it's okay."
Hesitantly, he nodded. He didn't believe me, that was obvious, but luckily he didn't go into it any further. "Uh, yes, I always have a note with bullet points on every topic just in case. But why not ask the person sitting next to you? His name is Shino, right? He seems to me to be a hard-working lad and can certainly help you out."
Lad? How old are you, hundred? "I.. well.." I felt my ears turn red and I smoothed my hair over them. "Um.. I don't.. have so much to do with him. We just haven't known each other that long and.. It would be a bit uncomfortable for me to ask him."
Hatake approached the table where I was still sitting, leaned forward slightly, and put his hand on the corner. The veins cast deep shadows on his pale skin and his scent didn't exactly help my ears. The heat now also moved to my cheeks, but I couldn't do anything about it. How was it possible that someone who looked like THIS could smell so good and have such hands?! "Is that because of your panic attack?" he asked in a hushed voice, which was more like a dark murmur and immediately sent an ice-cold shiver down my spine. My vagina reported and I tried to cross my legs inconspicuously.
"Um..", I croaked, cleared my throat and tried to collect myself somehow and fight the desire to whisper a "blindfold me and fuck me hard". I couldn't deny it. Despite his repulsive appearance, I was attracted to him. And not even a little. "Well.." Hatake put on a pitiful face because of my obvious nervousness. He had no idea of my inner battle and blamed my stuttering and the certainly pink cheeks on my social incompetence. Good. He was never allowed to know what I was thinking about when he was near me. I took a trembling breath, ignored his scent as best I could and muttered, "Y-yes.. I'm ashamed that he saw me like that." That was only partly a lie, but he didn't need to know that I didn't interact with people much else and therefore simply had no idea how to approach them and – oh Lord – ask for help! I barely made it with Hatake, I would never be able to do it with Shino, who I found just strange per se.
"Hmm..", Hatake grumbled thoughtfully and nodded absently. Another lightning bolt. Why couldn't he just have a high-pitched squeaking voice, damn it! "I understand. But listen, Hinata, a panic attack is nothing to be ashamed of. Even though I can imagine that it's difficult."
"Have you ever had something like that?" I slipped out and my eyes widened in shock. "W-well.. that.. I'm sorry.. I..." I fell silent. It didn't help anyway. I couldn't take back what I had said.
Hatake smiled faintly. "I don't myself, but my wife has been suffering from it for many years."
"Your.. wife?" shot out of my mouth, which for some inexplicable reason I couldn't control at the moment. My eyes searched his veiny hands with the long, thin, pale, shitty dressing and lovingly undressing fingers – why did I find his hands so attractive?! – for a ring but did not discover one right away. To nobody's surprise Hatake had noticed my curiosity, put his hands in his trouser pockets and smiled, this time mischievously. "Yes." Was it imagination or did this 'yes' sound a bit grim? I jerked my head. "Please forgive me. I didn't want to be irreverent."
"It's okay," Hatake sighed. "I store the transcripts in the cupboard upstairs in my office. Would you like to wait here, or would you rather come with me?"
The answer was not difficult for me. "Uh, well, I want to hinder you as little as possible, so I guess I'd better come along."
Hatake nodded in agreement and started moving. Hastily, I stuffed my laptop and water bottle into my bag and hurried after him. Silently, we walked side by side up the stairs to the fourth floor, where, as I could see from the signs hanging next to each door, were only offices of lecturers. Hatake stopped at one of the doors on the left and fumbled with the lock. His sign read:
'Prof. Dr. jur. Kakashi Hatake
Modern Legal History, Civil Law
Conversation times Wednesdays, Thursdays & Fridays 4-7 p.m.'
Deeply impressed, I watched Hatake's profile. His face was half illuminated from behind and looked even more tired than before. It was not uncommon for lecturers at universities to have doctorates, but I honestly wouldn't have thought he could have it. He had certainly had to work hard for this, and I wondered if he had only recently completed his doctorate and that's why he looked so exhausted.
"Crap," he cursed softly as he jerked the door and it finally opened. "How many more times do I have to tell this son of a bitch to repair my lock..?"
I was sure that he hadn't intended me to hear him, because he smiled lazily at me and said a little louder: "Come on in my cozy parlour."
With my mouth shyly squinted, I stepped past him into a small room that was in no way inferior to the appearance of its owner. On a narrow desk, vast quantities of books, folders, notebooks and loose papers were piled up. A shelf was overflowed with the same documents, so that it seemed as if it would collapse under the load at any moment. In the corner stood a worn-out leather couch and the position and contrition of a thin fleece blanket and a fluffy pillow told me that Hatake often slept here, at least took a nap. Since the office had no windows, he switched on a small, compared to the rest of the interior, quite modern lamp to the left of a closed laptop and the room was bathed in a pleasantly warm light. At least the air conditioning seemed to work well enough, because it didn't reek of stale air, as one could almost expect in a room like this. It smelled pleasantly of old books, paper and a hint of Kakashi himself.
"It won't take long, but please, sit down," he said kindly and cleared a stack of books from an old, upholstered chair between the desk and the shelf. Why I wasn't allowed to sit on the couch was not clear to me. Maybe, I thought to myself, as I sat down and put my bag on my knees, he felt uncomfortable knowing that I could sit where he was sleeping or snoozing. He, however, approached a beefy cupboard, opened the doors and groaned heavily as he looked inside.
From my position, I couldn't see the inside, but at his reaction I became curious and leaned forward inconspicuously. I could just catch a glimpse of a jumble of even more books and folders, but also randomly thrown in clothes like dark jeans, black cloth pants or a navy blue turtleneck, when Hatake had apparently found what he had been looking for, closed the doors again and came to the desk with a thick, red folder, where he sat down in the swivel chair. He opened the lid and, muttering softly to himself, ran his finger over the register on the side.
I watched him fascinated. This man was an absolute mess, so I wondered how he found his way in this room and probably in his life in general, but there was also something about him that was.. I couldn't describe it. Fascinating. I got the impression that he was heavily burdened by something that made him not take care of himself and his personal environment. Never before had I met someone so obviously broken. I myself wore my mask every day so as not to reveal my inner self to anyone, but Hatake apparently couldn't or didn't want to do so. You could clearly see how he had to struggle with this whatever. And for the first time in my life, I felt the need to help with this fight, simply because I didn't like how much he let himself go. Because – something I noticed in the warm cone of light: he was not ugly at all. His face was colorless, cloudy, marked by lack of sleep and a shaving, but if you ignored all this, there was an attractive man sitting in front of me with shapely eyes and a warm smile. Only this lousy jacket had to go, this was the absolute overkill in his rotten existence as a depression and substance addiction support group model.
After this realization, my eyes automatically darted back to his hands and, as always, I examined the veins on the pale skin with a secret insolence. One thing I now realized without a doubt: He was not wearing a wedding ring. Nevertheless, he said he had a wife. The grimness of his voice when he confirmed my question, and yes, I was sure by now that I had heard that pitch, did not necessarily speak for her demise. The fact that he no longer wore the ring also testified to a separation. And certainly not a harmonious one, if you consider that resonating emotion. So a man living in divorce. That suited him and his appearance. I only knew something like this from film and television, but often it had dragged the characters down similar like him. It would at least be a comprehensible explanation why he looked the way he did.
But that also meant that he was quite–
Another sigh took me out of my constantly exaggerating thoughts. "Okay. Here I have the notes of today's and Tuesday's topics. They are a bit older, but still relevant. Is it enough for you to take a picture of them, or should I copy them for you?"
"Mh, no, everything is fine. A photo is enough. Then I transcribe them neatly at home and can look at them again that way."
Hatake nodded and rolled a little to the side in the chair. I got up, took out my smartphone and leaned half over the table to take a picture of the papers. I unintentionally bumped my thigh against Hatake's knee, who immediately turned away until he hit the table leg with a dull bang. Out of the corner of my eye and through my hair hanging downwards, I saw him silently puff out his cheeks, run his hand through his tousled hair, wipe his face and then scratch his cheek unwittingly, which could be clearly heard through the stubble.
When I straightened up again and put the cell phone away, I smiled politely at him. "Thank you very much, Hatake-sensei."
He smiled back. "No cause." His friendly expression faded faster than expected and he took a deep breath. "Alright, if that was all.."
"Uh, yes," I immediately interjected and bowed briefly. "Excuse me, I don't want to bother you any longer."
"Huh? No," Hatake replied in surprise. "That's not what I meant. I—"
"It's okay, I'm leaving. Have a nice day, Sensei."
He opened his mouth as if he wanted to reply, but I left his office in no time at all and closed the door behind me a little too violently, so that it cracked loudly. With a distorted face, I still held the handle tight and listened to see if anyone was nearby and reprimanded me for the noise. There was not a soul in the hallway except me. Lucky me. I was about to move away from the door and go to the cafeteria to pretend to eat, when I heard a muffled cursing from behind the wood that I had pulled so rudely. "Oh, suck my dick!" Hatake shouted and some hard object thundered against some wall.
Astonished, I stared at the white-painted door. What was that? I just wanted to leave the cause of my useless horniness behind me and also not risk that he wanted to talk about my panic attack again, why did that upset him so much?! Twerp.
I shook my head and headed towards the stairwell. As I stepped around the corner, I bumped into a tall person right behind it, swaying slightly from the impact and stuttering mechanically, "Oh, p-pardon me."
"Oops, not so stormy," said a deep, bassy voice somewhere above me. Gasping, I stared at two cool, large, veiny hands wrapped around my forearms to keep me from falling. My widened eyes wandered over three-quarters exposed, equally veiny arms, a trained torso tucked into a dark gray T-shirt that was possibly half a size too small, up into an impossibly handsome face adorned with a crooked grin and a three-day beard and framed by brown hair casually swept back, a few strands still falling into sparkling brown eyes. "Did I hurt you? Did I step on your foot or something?" the man asked past a toothpick and looked me up and down, as if he wanted to make sure that everything about me was still intact.
"Uh," I just managed to say, staring into the almost flirtatious face of the stranger who let go of me, playing with his tongue on his toothpick and forming a peace sign with his left hand. "Hi, Hinata. I'm Genma Shiranui. I was told that I can find you up here. I need to talk to you about something important. Do you have time for me?"
What the hell was going on here?! Why did I stumble, as soon as I set foot outside the door after my years of isolation, all over unnecessarily handsome men? And then with these hands, for which I had a weakness anyway thanks to King. That couldn't be true, honestly. "Um.. How do you know my name?"
Shiranui's crooked grin only got more crooked. "I would like to talk about that. So?"
Okay, just to take notes: An attractive, tall man with an athletic physique, deep voice, veiny hands and a much too naughty facial expression is looking for me in my university, knows my name and wants to talk to me. Yes I do. Where was the hidden camera, please?
I knitted my eyebrows a little and finally listened to a feeling in my stomach area – caution. The guy could want who knows what from me. "Excuse me, sir, but I don't know you and I have a lecture in civil law right away, so..." Just a moment ago I had been glad that there was no one else in this hallway but me, but now this emptiness felt oppressive. Only a few feet away was at least Hatake, the only question was whether I would be quick enough to reach his door if this Shiranui pounced on me.
"Mh, I understand," he said calmly and reached behind him.
Instinctively, I flinched back.
Shiranui gave my reaction a worried look and raised his hand in reassurance. "Don't worry, I don't carry a gun here." Here?! "I'll just get my ID." Slowly and with two fingers, he pulled a black leather case out of his back pocket and unfolded it to hold it in front of my face. The picture in the ID card was obviously older and I could clearly say that Shiranui had experienced a proper glow-up since then. He looked much better with a beard than without it and the slightly shorter hair also suited him. His former self reminded me of a penniless student from a skateboard crew who liked to test himself through all kinds of drugs. No comparison to today. More than the photo, however, I was interested in the text next to and below it.
'Service ID card
Criminal Investigation Office
Genma Shiranui'
At the bottom right corner was a stamp with 'SFG'.
"Ehhh... C-criminal investigation..?" I asked insecurely, staring at the three letters. Shit, how many times had I heard Hiashi talk about the SFG?! And now one of them, who, with all his love, was much too attractive to be a cop, stood in front of me. And wanted to talk to me. That couldn't mean anything good.
"Yes," Shiranui nodded. "I am superintendent at the Department of Organized Crime." He glanced over his shoulder. "I want to talk about the Gin'nome-kai."
Without my involvement, heavy gates closed in my head. "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about, Shiranui-san. If you will excuse me now—"
I was about to start moving, when he only made half a lunge and I stopped abruptly. That guy wouldn't let me pass, I knew that. "Please, say Genma to me. Only my superior calls me Shiranui, it always has such a bitter contribution," he grinned. "I can understand that you are insecure, but I really need to talk to you urgently. Can we go somewhere where we are undisturbed?"
There was a noise behind me and when I turned around, I saw Hatake coming out of his office. Astonished, he raised his eyebrows, closed the door with a jerk and came to us. "Hello?"
"Hi, I'm Genma Shiranui, nice to meet you," Genma introduced himself politely and shook Hatake's hand.
Hatake took it and I noticed that they both considered her handshake suspiciously. Men were weird. "Professor Hatake," he said stiffly and they released their hands again. He addressed me. "Hinata, is everything okay?"
I nodded and looked my lecturer firmly in the face. "Yes, thank you. Genma, let's go outside." I felt a little odd at the expression with which Hatake looked at me, but I turned away from him and walked on to the stairs. Genma followed me. Just before I had gone far enough down the steps, I looked back once more. At the corner where I had bumped into Genma, Hatake was now standing and watching us until we disappeared from his sight. I didn't want him to hear anything of whatever Genma had to say. He shouldn't know what secret I was hiding from the public. In the end, he learned what kind of family I belonged to, and I could do without his reaction in this regard.
When we stepped outside through a side entrance into the park area, Genma looked around scrutinizingly. Presumably, he scanned the environment for enemies, traps and escape possibilities in the usual SFG manner. "There's a bench back there, it should be enough for our conversation," he suggested and we sat down next to each other. He seemed tense and thus reflected my state of mind.
"Well.. What do you want from me?" I asked without further ado with an astonishing amount of self-confidence, although nothing about this situation would speak for it. It was probably simply my trained vigilance when it came to the topic of "organized crime".
"You're getting straight to the point, I like it," Genma replied, crossing his arms. The sleeve of his T-shirt slipped up a little and I noticed a tattoo on his left upper arm, the motif of which at first glance did not suit him at all. It was the frontal view of a badger's head without any other frills. But from my memory a recollection dug itself to the surface that there was a special unit at the SFG called "Tanuki". Ages ago, they had blown up an important drug deal of the Gin'nome-kai, which is why Hiashi had gone ballistic. Apparently, this Genma Shiranui was a capable fighter. That only made a possible escape even more stupid. He was definitely faster and stronger than me. So I had no choice but to actually listen to him. "I strongly assume you know about your father's business, don't you?"
I was silent. Nothing would serve me more than to blow the whistle on Hiashi to the police, but they hadn't had anything against him for years, and when he found out that I was behind an unfounded arrest, it got to me.
"Before you worry: I'm not here to arrest you," Genma explained matter-of-factly.
"I've never done anything that you have a reason to do," I said, staring ahead in a decidedly uninvolved manner.
"I know that," he replied. "You were born into a family that has been involved in illegal activities for decades and does not shy away from violence. The police don't investigate bad luck and no judge can and would punish you for having a man like Hiashi Hyuuga as a father."
"Then why are you here?" I asked quietly, still without looking in his direction.
Genma straightened his posture. "I'm here because I need your help."
I listened up and looked at him after all. "You want me to betray my family?"
"I want you to help me bring your father's machinations to justice. If you call that 'betray', then yes."
"You only come to me because you can tread water without me and do nothing against my father," I murmured and looked at my folded hands in my lap in disgust.
Genma let out a long-drawn-out sigh. "That's correct. Your father is good at covering his tracks. Nevertheless, I am of the opinion that his actions must be stopped. My contact with you is our last resort in the fight against the Gin'nome-kai."
"I'm sorry, then you'll have to lose this war," I said in conclusion, standing up. I hadn't come five feet when Genma grabbed me by the arm and whirled me around. "Hinata! It's damn important!" He opened his eyes wide at the panicked look on my face, let go of me and said humbly: "Excuse me, I didn't want to get violent. Shit. Hinata, I know that what I am asking of you is dangerous."
"That's right," I hissed. This man made me angry. "It IS dangerous. What do you think Hiashi would do to me if he knew about this conversation?"
"I can protect you," Genma said urgently.
"Oh really?" I laughed mockingly and snorted my head. "You have no idea what's really going on. Do you seriously think you have a chance against him? You do not and you know it, otherwise you wouldn't beg me to be your informant. The police don't know anything and can't help me, otherwise I wouldn't have to go back to this shitty house every day. You and your filthy club are powerless against him."
"You want to escape that, don't you?" he asked now also angrily. "You hate this family and don't want to be part of it. Then help me. 'Betray' your father, put him behind bars, only then will you be free."
"You're right," I agreed quietly. "I don't want to be a part of it, but I am. And you can't do anything about it."
"With your support, I can."
"And what happens to me?" I asked with twitching eyebrows. "You talk all the time about me helping you, putting my safety at risk for your success, and me? Your alleged protection is a joke, another slap in the face. You can't protect me from my father, no one can. If I become your informant, I won't get out of the matter alive, that's clear to both of us."
"I give you my word that—"
"I don't give a shit about your word!", I blundered angrily. "It's worth nothing in my world, where everyone constantly betrays and disappoints. A little mind game, just to show you how pointless your oh-so-great word is: Imagine I feed you information. I will tell you with whom my father meets, who he commissions with what, for which crimes he is responsible. My father is smart, he finds out because the police are suddenly much closer on his heels and there can only be one source for it – me. He knows that I'm not stupid and in his eyes I also notice too much, especially from his business partners, ironic if you think about it. But he knows exactly that I'm keeping my mouth shut because he knows that I know what he's doing to me when I talk. I am in his house because I am not allowed to leave it, except for the lectures. But you are not there. Who do you think is sooner with me? You or him?"
Genma opened his mouth, but said nothing.
"See? You can't protect me, no matter how much you promise. No one can do that. And that's why I'm going to leave now and you won't stop me, otherwise I'll scream and there are enough people on this campus who would hear me."
With my hair blowing, I turned around, but this time I hadn't even took one step when Genma said quietly, "Hinata, please. I understand your situation and that's exactly why I want to get you out of there. I realize that my chance of this is small, and it won't be easy, but I can't sleep at night if I know what he's doing to you. This must come to an end, Hinata, and only you are able to bring it about. Please, trust me. You say my word is worth nothing, and I understand why you see it that way. But I promise you with my own life that I will do everything I have and everything I am capable of to protect you." Crunching gravel told me that he was taking the distance between us again. A woody scent rose to my nose, which made me close my eyes in agony. Please not now and not with him! "This decision is not easy, understandable. Therefore: If you want to trust me, please contact me and I will do everything necessary to ensure your safety. I won't give up on you, Hinata." A muscular arm pushed sideways into my field of vision and in a pale, outstretched hand was a piece of paper with a cell phone number.
Hesitantly, I took the snippet, crumpled it up in my fist and stormed back into the building without looking at Genma again or saying anything at all.
King_size94, 04/04/17, 20:03: [I'm sorry, I thought that was clear..]
King_size94, 04/05/17, 20:05: [Hey, are you there?]
King_size94, 04/06/17, 23:46: [Buttercup, are you mad at me? I'm really sorry if I offended you. Please, don't ignore me now..]
King_size94, 04/07/17, 00:12: [I hope it's not over between us. I love you, Buttercup, even if you may not do it anymore. If I still have any chance with you, please answer me. I don't want this to end like this.]
Lost in thought, I stared at my smartphone. Below me, the seat of the bus vibrated, but I hardly noticed my surroundings. Far too many thoughts were fighting for attention in my head, which in one way or another concerned Madara, Hatake and Genma. Normally I didn't open the chat with King on my phone for fear that my father might find out, but I had hoped on the way home from university today that the one message King had sent me almost three days ago would build me up. But it didn't. King's desperation only made everything worse and now guilt joined my already confused feelings. Resolutely, I typed: [I need time., put the phone in my pocket and absently played around with my opal necklace, inside of which the note with Genma's mobile phone number was now hidden.
