The Contract

Prologue

For a man who's silent death incarnate, his red hair is a bleeping siren.

It distracts her. It's the first thing she notices, to the point the piercing green eyes, the indifferent, disturbingly callous way he handles himself all become secondary. Hyuuga Hinata is an anomaly herself, so she knows better than anyone the risks of a strange appearance. Even with a genjutsu hiding her tell-tale white eyes, she's rarely picked for covert missions. Her white skin is too pale, her noble profile too memorable, and there was that one time an almost-poet made a whole bloody ballad serenading the grace of her wrist. (To be fair, the almost-poet thought she was a geisha, and although it goes against everything Hinata's been taught, she leaves him alive.) For shinobi, there's fame and there's fame. Too often, recognition is death. But then again, if you're as deadly as Sabaku no Gaara, being recognized really isn't an issue. Shinobi of Gaara's caliber usually don't leave anyone alive.

"Welcome to Sunagakure."

Hinata stares for less than two seconds, but it's one and half-seconds too long. The Kazekage narrows his eyes but says nothing.

"Kazekage-sama." She bows, proper, which means low but not as low as other Jounin. After all, she was the Hyuuga Clan Head not too long ago.

The Kazekage places the new hitaite on the table. Hinata wills her hands not to shake as she picks up the forehead protector.

"I have placed you on the active roster. Report to the Jounin Commander as soon as possible."

Quick, brief, to the point. And so ends the first meeting with the Kazekage.

He doesn't mention the contract once.

"So you're the new 'recruit'."

Recruit is an odd term, but Hinata rolls with the punches. She gives a polite, if slightly wary, nod at Temari, who leans on her monstrosity of a fan and openly goggles at Hinata's pupil-less, iris-less eyes.

"I suppose they're useful enough," Temari finally says. "Although I honestly prefer my own."

Despite herself, Hinata smiles. Her eyes are not attractive, nothing like Temari's pretty cornflower blue, but people don't plot, kill, die for Temari's eyes like they do for hers.

"It's partially why I wear this," Hinata explains, tapping the veil she's left on the table. Enough Suna nin wear it that no one thinks twice when they see another kunouchi flitting about with a thin, see-through head-piece.

"I guess the sun and the sand gets to you, hm?"

Hinata tightens her lips. She isn't about to criticize the one safe haven she has left, even if the elements leave her skin wind-whipped raw and her beautiful dark hair bleached. Ugly is still loads better than dead.

"Konohagakure had trees and water. Lots of water, so much that you could play in it," Temari muses aloud. "It was a rich place, from what I remember." Sunagakure is not poor, but it is the weakest of all of the shinobi village both in terms of natural and human resources. Hinata knew this, had known this, which is why she knew they would agree to the contract.

Idly, she wondered whether the Council in Konohagakure had branded her as traitor yet.

"Yes, it is," Hinata says calmly enough.

Temari's eyes crinkle. "Found anyone to your liking?" she asks abruptly.

"I wasn't aware my contract had a time limit," Hinata replies as tartly as she can.

Temari has the audacity to wink. "Not rushing you, just curious. Wanted to see which one of my manflesh you've moved in on."

Before Hinata can come up with a suitable reply, Temari is gone. Hinata shakes her head and covers her face with the veil again. Temari reminds her of Anko; whip-smart and dangerous enough to give you whip-lash if you turn away too quickly

Kankuro is next.

"Why are you still training? I mean sure, you're on active duty, but it's not like my brother's going to make you do anything dangerous. The Elders will kill him."

Hinata flexs her fingers and tells herself to be polite, even when all she wants to do is snap his collarbone.

"Good afternoon, Kankuro-san."

Kankuro grins, making his makeup crinkle in all sorts of amusing ways. "No need to be so fucking polite. I asked you a question, Hyuuga."

"One that I'm not obliged to answer."

"You'll have a hard time finding a fuck buddy with that attitude," Kankuro says crudely. "Although, I suppose you could use in vitro."

If she was still Hyuuga Hinata, Clan Head of the Hyuuga, Hinata would have never dared. But she's Hinata, just Hinata now, and there's no one to stop her when she blurs, twists—

Kankuro is a fine shinobi, but he's completely unused to the Hyuuga taijutsu or the Hyuuga temper.

"I think you'll have a hard time finding any company if these go," Hinata says lightly, as if she's only talking about the weather. Kankuro keeps himself very, very still as he eyes the kunai she has pressed in between his legs. Hinata lets him sweat and then she vanishes in swirl of leaves. Before the last leaf touches the ground, Temari folds out of the shadows and cackles.

"I think I like her," Temari says glibly. Kankuro scowls and opens his mouth to retort, but Temari raps his knuckles.

"I would really appreciate it if you don't provoke her any more than necessary."

"I was just asking," Kankuro spat.

"It's precisely that kind of thinking that makes me the Jounin Commander, and you a lowly Jounin." Temari huffs. "There isn't a single village out there who doesn't want her eyes, and we're getting much more than that." For a moment, she looks bittersweet, tinged with the sympathy every woman feels for another. "But in order to get what we want, we'll need a gentler touch than what you're offering. So please, don't piss her off any more than you have to."

"Plenty of woman have liked what I have to offer," Kankuro mutters.

Temari blinks. "You were flirting with her?"

Kankuro shrugs. "Not really, but why not? It might as well as be me."

"She's not even your type!"

"Her body is nice enough, although I have to admit, the eyes are a bit freaky."

Temari grimaces. "She can do better than you."

"Hey, that's not a nice thing to say about your own brother!"

The other shinobi avoid her. Hinata supposes it is just as well. It gives her a good excuse if the Elders ever come hounding after her. Unfortunately, she finds herself having to reevaluate her thinking when she finds the Kazekage outside her room.

"Kazekage-sama."

Once again, his red hair distracts her, and she's a beat too late to make her bow. But before she can dip her head, his voice cuts. "Walk with me."

She follows him. The question trembles on her lips, but she doesn't dare to ask, and so the agitation grows. She notices they've taken the side-alleys rather than the main way, as if the Kazekage was taking pains to avoid being seen. Finally, just as her heart threatens to explode, they stop on the roof at the edge of the village.

The Kazekage takes out a piece of paper. There's a hint of reluctance in the curve of his wrist, not much, but Hinata sees it. It's enough to make her wary.

"This is from the Elders."

Doubly suspicious now, Hinata takes it carefully and waits for his nod before she opens it.

It's a list of approved candidates. She recognizes most of the names, pauses at some, and is generally unsurprised until she reaches the bottom.

"Sabaku no Gaara," Hinata breathes and looks up. The Kazekage's gaze is flat, unsurprised. Cold.

"I'm sorry," she blurts out without thinking.

"I'm not."

For the first time in a long time, Hinata's speechless. She doesn't resist when the Kazekage loops a finger around her veil and gently, but firmly tugs it off.

"Your face is red," he says slowly.

Hinata just blushes harder.

"Interesting." His palm, softer than she'll ever have imagined, brushes her cheek—and then he is gone.

Hinata stays standing on that roof for a very long time.

An idea that suddenly blind-sided me. I always wanted to write Gaara.

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