Transmission #2-0-6-4 Addendum
22°22′53″N 114°16′14″E / 22.38143°N 114.27052°E / 22.38143; 114.27052
She was always told she was too old for dolls.
As the soft glow of the moonlight streams in through her window, the bright yellows, reds, oranges, and green of a neon city alive in the throes of a pure night; Hinata sits alone. A serene figure amidst the shadows. Light illuminating her delicate features, casting a silvery hue across her porcelain skin. She sits like a silver vision cast in crystal, one of those movie stars from Hollywood immortalized in high-definition Cinemascope.
She sits cross legged on the plush, fake fur carpet, surrounded by an array of painted smiles. Some she made herself, others given to her, and some she'd found cast aside in Hong Kong's hustled streets. Each doll was carefully curated, outfits meticulously sewn in tiny Eastern dresses, black and brown hair done neatly and combed with care. The flickering flames of the incense candles on her dresser danced gently, the sweet, calming scent of sandalwood and vanilla filling the air.
Hinata felt most at peace here.
Unlike the boardroom where father conducted business.
"Grow up", her father admonished her. "It's time for you to learn your place. No more acting like a simpering child - you're my eldest. Act as such."
Hiashi was never one to mince words, either with his vanguards or his own daughters. First, you'd have to earn respect for his cordiality, and so far no one truly has.
"You're bleeding heart is testing my patience, and costing the family, Ko," Hiashi says, sitting like a king behind his the black maple desk. Emblazoned upon its surface is the clan taijitu - a Yin-Yang symbol, ringed by a score of lines and dashes; marks denoting the eight trigram approach, the only way the Triple Threat Triad lived by. "Dealing in good faith is bad business, and WE haven't the stomach for it."
"I'm sorry, oyabun, I never meant-"
"You didn't mean what? Enlighten my daughters and I to your inane line of thinking: you put our merchandise on a boat, to make the long trip from here to Tokyo with MY gasoline, attempting to run an American blockade. So as to make... not even a fraction of the profit needed to cover the cost of the damn trip?"
Ko stammers, unsure if an excuse is wanted Hiashi wanted or his face peeled off. "O-Oyabun, I-I had no idea; Gato always made good exchanging the rate between North and South yen. We had no idea Sapporo was-"
"BLEEDING MONEY LIKE A MENSTRUATING WHORE!"
Hinata flinched when her father yelled; the man always had a knack for catching her off-guard, his voice so level and stern one moment, only to erupt the next. It had ever been her Achilles heel against him, fearing one false note in her voice would trigger such a reaction. Hanabi, however, never seemed bothered by it. She stood off to their father's left shoulder, arms folded behind her back, ever the perfect little daughter Hinata wasn't.
"Did I not relay this information to you," Hiashi rose from his chair, long frame reaching up to a staggering height. He passes Hinata with nary a consideration, pale, white eyes never leaving the shivering lieutenant standing before him. "Profit dictates risk. The Sapporo mint is printing money like there's no tomorrow. Inflation is through the roof. Whatever benefit our goods can receive in Hokkaido, pales in comparison to pissing off the US government."
"But, oyabun, Gato expects our shipments every - ACK!" Ko is thrown against the wall, the whole room shaking when he falls in a heap to the floor. He struggles to breath, the cavity in his chest throbbing where the open-palm strike of Hiashi caves it in.
But Hinata's father gives no quarter.
She wants to look away as Hiashi continues to pummel Ko; his strikes not fast, but heavy. She can almost see the moment the man loses consciousness, only for him to be brought back again when father knocks him to the ground. None of the other vanguards move to help. Hanabi has a smirk across her face. And Neji nii-san simply looks ahead; uncaring and unmoved of the beating before him.
"Gato." With his palm flat, Hiashi drives it down straight into Ko's nose
"Is not." Another blow, this time followed by a sickening crunch and splatter of blood.
"Your boss." The last shot nearly goes through Ko's face.
Hinata nearly faints; Ko looked so helpless, still trying to apologize, attempting to bring his hands up to plead to father. Even while his nose is gone, and his teeth splattered all over the carpet. But Hiashi was not a man for pity or weakness. Plus, Ko was bleeding all over his fine white kimono, and the boss wasn't going to have that. "Take this fool from my sight," Hiashi relents, letting the broken figure fall from his grasp. Two lesser vanguards move to lift the sputtering Ko, taking him away before Hiashi's temper changed his mind.
The Triple Threats rise and fall with the admission of mistakes, Hiashi presses to all. They are bound to happen - of course, he's no fool. Yet, the biggest failure one can commit in this family is not understanding one's place within it. Gato is not a Hyuga, nor are any of the their so-called "kin" back home; the clan had long since foregone being "Japanese" when their homeland forgot about them, and then in turn got done-in by the fucking Reds.
No, they are something differently entirely now
"The Triple Threats are many things," Hinata noted father telling her after the meeting. "We set ourselves apart, because we are not Japanese, Chinese, Commie or Capitalist. But Hyuga. Always Hyuga. Out of those many parts we become so, but ever does the gold spine which holds this family up reside in us, Hinata. WE are the tree supporting all these other branches. And when we are strong, they are strong; but only if you are firmly planted in your resolve. And possess the knowledge of knowing when one branch needs chopping."
A severe lesson, from a harsh man. One of many she'd endured. Which may not seem much to some; an eighteen year old heiress to a crime family fortune, how hard could a life be when you wanted for nothing? True, she never lacked for things. When she wanted something, always was someone there. Five star meals never kept her hungry, clothes were always the finest, a personal driver was always on call; she even had a hole team of make-up artists, butlers, dietitians and personal trainers who bathed her, powdered her cheeks, combed her hair, and made her into one of the most eligible debutantes in the city.
Yes, she was content.
Like a bird in a cage.
But fulfilled?
"You think father didn't notice you twitching like a coward today?" Hanabi spits over at her older sibling.
In the dimly lit gym beneath their high-rise, the air is thick with focus and determination, the only sound being the rhythmic thuds of the feet on tatami mats. Hinata squares up opposite against her sister, veins pulsing around her milk white eyes, the Byakugan painting a clear picture of her surroundings. Yet, despite this she's clearly overmatched; Hanabi is too agile, too fierce, the flurry of her rapid strikes too fast for Hinata to counter.
"You think I didn't notice?"
Hanabi rushes forward, the quickness of her advance throwing Hinata off-guard. She attempts to parry, but every strike she blocks, Hanabi lands two more. Bruises begin to blossom along her ribs, her chest, and shoulders; each mark a testament to her sister's skill, and her own lack of it. A sharp pang radiates from her cheek - Hanabi had caught her with a backhand against her face. Hinata reels back, fanning her hands out before planting again in a defensive stance.
"You're going to have to be better than that, sister," Hanabi taunts, voice laced with amusement. It's obvious Hanabi's toying with her, relishing the fact she's got the upper hand; Hinata knew it killed her knowing she wasn't heir presumptive tot he family. The one to carry on the name, the monicker, the honor.
For Hanabi this was more than a personal sparring session, but for Hinata it was yet another glimpse into what he family expected her to be.
Her strength fades, her Byakugan does what it can; the chi flowing into her body, channeling in her chest as she tries to center herself. It's there, she needs only grasp it. All the training seminars and matches she endured, the karate competitions father forced her into and expected to win. Every time she thought she proved herself a little more, there was ever another obstacle to stops her. It was the great hypocrisy of her life: to have everything, but the power to take it herself.
It was always given to her.
Food.
Clothing.
Training.
And even this beatdown courtesy of a younger sibling.
"Hakke Hasengeki!"
The Eight Divination Signs Destructive Mountain Fist.
A technique dating back to their family roots on the Ryukyu Islands nigh six hundred years ago. Hanabi extends her palm forward, channeling all the chi within, forming a powerful strike that can nearly cave in a boulder - Hinata has seen her do it once or twice. In her father's hands, the technique can fully cut off all teh jenkatsu points on one's body. The chi stops flowing from the heart, the lungs begins to waiver, nerve endings can burn.
It can be a mortally fatal strike from a master.
Luckily, Hanabi is far from that; by her expertise, the only thing she can muster is knocking someone out cold for maybe an hour or two. Which is exactly when Hinata awoke in her room later that night. Sweating, feverish, and completely spent. She'd been doted on, of course. Her father no doubt spared no expense in making sure his heir would see the best care while she recuperated. All the while gnashing his teeth at her weakness on full display.
But, oddly, Hinata wanted to thank her sister. All these times when she'd knocked her out, it afforded Hinata a reprieve from family affairs. She could stay in her room, now. Silent. Peaceful. Just listening to the rain hit against the windows, gazing at the reflections of city beyond. It was her fortress of solitude at the top of her castle, one she made for herself.
She gently picks up a doll with flowing golden hair and a lavender dress - the only one of its kind - and gently cradles it in her hands. Of all the ones she possessed, this was the smallest. It wasn't the most extravagant, nor the prettiest, but maybe that's why she cared so much. The idea of things needing her, relying on her, filled her with a. sense of purpose. In her imagination, she crafted stories where these dolls embarked on grand adventures, faced challenges, and discovered their own strengths. It was a realm where she could be the hero, the protector, and the nurturer - all roles she longed to embody in her own life.
"Ko is recovering well. Apparently. Thought you might want to know that." Neji nii-san says. Walking over, he plops a brown paper bag of food next to her. "Eat,' he commands.
"O-Oh, yes," Hinata goes, somewhat intimidated by the intense figure of her cousin; even when he was trying to be nice, it came across as a threat. "I'm glad to hear Ko is doing well. I-I, maybe, was thinking if it'd be all right to visit him perhaps tomorrow..."
"That's not necessary. Eat."
"...Okay." Hinata says.
Though she didn't really have an appetite - and her trainer tomorrow would probably kill her for it, the intoxicating smell of fried dumplings and egg rolls makes her stomach growl. Father hadn't summoned her for dinner - a small blessing, but now she had an appetite that could choke a gorilla. "Thank you for this, Neji nii-san. Really, you didn't have to."
"You're right: I didn't." Neji fires, causing her to wince. "You're a grown woman, more than capable of ordering someone to get you food, Hinata. It shouldn't be me deciding for you when it's time to eat."
"I didn't want to trouble anyone."
The lack of a "sama" at the end of the name showed in how much regard he held her. He was lucky he was only talking to her, any branch family member seen talking to a main branch one as such would be punished swiftly. Even if Neji was the son of Hiashi Hyuga's twin brother, no exceptions were made: he was half-breed - born of a Chinese woman near war's end. He was Hyuga, but only half of one. And so was forced to bear the mark as the rest of the rank-and-file.
He ever kept it covered by a plain, black bandana around his head. Given to him by his martial arts teacher years ago.
"W-would you like to have some with me? I can't possibly finish all this by myself." Hinata asks.
The scowl he gives her says one thing, but his own growling stomach says another. A blush comes across his face. Doubtless, he'd been training again late into the day, foregoing a meal yet again. And he had the audacity to lecture her, she thinks. Of course, not saying it aloud. Heavens forbid that.
Neji plops himself next to her, cross-legged and all frowns, before reaching into the bag. He pulls out a plastic baggie holding two egg-rolls within, and hands her one. She tells him thank you, which only received a grunt in return. Even if he'd always been like this, lately he's been more distant than usual. Small things here and there, nothing anyone could know considering Neji normally stuck to being a wallflower half the time, but Hinata saw.
Tiresome training sessions, long nights venturing out into Kowloon City, more abrasive - cruel, even - to the new recruits; Neji was stiff, but the tension hanging about his gaze nowadays revealed a deeper contempt. something beyond the pale of the cross he burdened himself with. Ever since his friend Lee returned from Saigon to Hong Kong near a month ago...
"It's good." She tells him.
He scoffs, taking a large bite. "Usually is."
"What made you order from them?" she asks., the question is innocent enough.
"Our kitchen's closed, and they're the only ones still open." He shrugs, tone casual but demeanor still serious.
Hinata nods. "Ah, I see."
Another lull of silence envelops them. Which is fine by her, as she wasn't one for conversation, and nor did Neji like to entertain it. If he wanted to talk, he could say something. He could say a lot. But if there's one thing she noted about her cousin, was that in order to coax him out of his cage, one needed to be patient. Much like her, he seemed so much like trapped bird only able to glimpse the sky through the bars.
And like her - at least, as far as she thought - she wondered if he had the courage too leave if given the chance.
She didn't need her special eyes to see he, too, was someone trapped by the expectations of a whole family weighing you down. But unlike her, beyond Neji's own lack of being, was a crippling hatred that he'd not fully foregone. When they were little it was mostly directed at her, the outlet for all his rage and insecurity, a veritable punching bag for when he'd needed to vent. Hinata couldn't recount how many broken bones and bruises she suffered at her cousin's hands. but she never could truly blame him.
He was what the family made him, and if anything, all she felt towards that was pity.
"I was thinking," she's careful not to fumble her words; Neji detested stuttering. Anything that would disturb him, and he'd fly off and leave. "Maybe, tomorrow, if you have free time. I do, so was only wondering, that if maybe you did as well, we could go to the waterfront tomorrow? I'd love to see the Bay, wouldn't you? Then after, if we're hungry, we could..."
"Ordering or asking?" Neji questions.
"Wh-What?" Hinata stammers.
Neji casts a hard look to her. "I said, are you ordering me, or are you asking? There's a difference."
"Oh...Um, well, I don't-"
"If you're ordering me, I am compelled to obey. I will drop my responsibilities, and will accompany you. As is my duty, as is your wish. But if you're asking, then the answer is no, Hinata." His response isn't hostile, more business-like than anything, and his expression is unamused. But it's far from what she wanted to hear; it puts the ball back in her court, and she didn't want to play this game.
They've taken orders for the majority of their lives, so Hinata didn't want this to be some sort of command; she wanted him to actually want to do it, to want to get away. For only an afternoon. That's all they needed. Just enough time to breathe without worrying over "main branch", "side branch", or "Triad-business". To see some old friends; to be happy with old friends. If Neji was willing to order takeout from the Wok 'n' Roll, it shouldn't be a problem to stop by.
But for Neji, orders were the only thing he was allowed to understand. Literally and figuratively - denoted by the damning curse put on him by her father, his own uncle, who dictated all, and suffered no one to stray.
Hinata says nothing more, and Neji doesn't press further. Both know it'll either end in a fight, or an awkward silence permeated by guilt. She because it felt like another instance of her immaturity pressed on her more capable cousin, and him where he was so unbendingly cold it simply added to a whole list of other moments needing apologies for. So with what little peace they have, both finish their food in quiet. For Hinata that had to be enough.
Neji is polite when he leaves, excusing himself with all the propriety expected of a lower peon in the ranks. The rain continues to fall, a rteadt reminder oft he world outside, while inside a fragile connection quietly binds them together. With the trash in his hand, and minding the dolls when he moves - thankfully, he doesn't make a comment about them this night. He heads to the door, quiet and calm, Hinata follows behind.
As ever, and as always.
"Thank you for coming to see me tonight, Neji nii-san. I always do enjoy spending these nights with you." She means it when she says this.
"You're father says we'll be entertaining foreign guests soon. So you should get some rest," Neji tips his head, stolid as ever. But before he turns to leave he stops. "Hinata... there's one thing I needn't be commanded to do, it's to watch out for you. It's... the least I can do."
Before she tells him it's not necessary, that he needn't turn her into another burden of his to carry always, Neji leaves down the hall. Words were never her strong suit, especially when they mattered most, and seeing Neji turn away only added to the guilt ever plaguing her. Could she be stronger? Yes. But how can she manage for the both of them, when it was so hard for her to be strong herself. This world always felt too big for a person like her, its immensity a sight too strong to fathom.
Out there, who knows what'll happen to her.
Without a voice now, most like she'd just be lost in the shuffle. Times were moving fast, the rival gangs jockeying for position, and with the People's Liberation Army ever breathing down Hong Kong's neck; where on Earth could she go? And the answer was nowhere. Nowhere but this gilded prison fashioned for her; a place where at least her mind could be free. Because freedom - real freedom - for people like herself and nii-san was probably too much to ask for. Too dangerous, too unknowable; flying away is overrated.
Safer in this cage, anyhow.
Besides, father had plans for her; she couldn't afford to leave now even if she wanted.