Electra Rose
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Great Lakes & Expectations chp 19 (draft, not real)
🕑 Added 2019-12-05 03:17:17 +0000 UTCRegina came back to the office at 9 with a sunny disposition and another set of papers. This time, Hiruzen read them fully before approving them.
These were just amended building approvals for Jiraiya-kun’s house.
Wait, what was happening to that horrid little shack he and Tsunade-chan had built?
Oh. It was there, technically considered part of the main house. That was apparently necessary. The next few sets of paper were a series of complaints from the city planning board about the previous plans, because Jiraiya hadn’t had the foresight to apply for a multi-building complex, and hadn’t given permission to demolish that godforsaken safety hazard.
Unfortunately, he also hadn’t given Rejina-chan the clad head position yet to authorize those changes, even though he didn’t live here.
Hiruzen felt an eye tic developing.
He sympathized with the poor girl quite a bit. And she’d ‘solved’ the problem by adding a set of steep, useless stairs out to the shack. It was labelled ‘Father’s quarters’ in the building plans. There was no corresponding opening in the stone walls to let him out. Or in, he supposed.
Fair.
Jiraiya-kun was good at camping. He was sure he’d be ok.
He stamped them with a small level of personal satisfaction and handed them back. Rejina-chan whisked them under her jacket, and bowed.
“There are some requests from the Daimyo awaiting your review, Hokage-sama.” She seemed to hesitate. “One of them may concern myself.”
“How do you know that?” He asked, flipping through a mission report.
“The Daimyo’s wife told me.”
Her face was blank. He was pretty sure she wasn’t fucking with him.
Then, Madam Shijimi waltzed into the office like she owned the place. She definitely didn’t have an appointment. He put on a friendly smile for a woman who was ostensibly his superior.
“Hokage-sama.” She greeted warmly. As always, she was immaculate. Her nails, jewelry, and makeup were all coordinated.
“I was happy to hear that the daughter of one of our most esteemed shinobi returned to our country.” Madam Shijimi’s smile was like knives. “After she has made such a distinguished name for herself in Iron, I thought we would arrange a meeting with myself and my husband.”
“Of course.” Hiruzen did not get out his pipe, even though politics made him itch. And this was definitely politics.
Rejina-chan stood in the back of the room. Still observing.
It might be cruel to send her out to the Daimyo’s court. He had no idea if she was ready. But Tsunade-chan wouldn’t have sent out that farcical contract if she didn’t think Rejina could back it up. She wasn’t that bad of a gambler, and she wasn’t delusional.
And Rejina-chan had evidently impressed the samurai of Iron enough that they had sent along payment and thanks to Fire even before Hiruzen had known she’d existed. With that thanks came an offer for employment, which he was not planning on sharing with anyone. If she realized she could leave, she very well might. And then whatever enemies Jiraiya made would be hers, without commensurate protection.
Those facts were enough to make a decision he could live with.
“When would you like to have this meeting?” It wasn’t as if he couldn’t spare her. She hadn’t really even started working yet.
Madam Shijimi smiled, and turned back to Rejina.
Rejina smiled back, and bowed.
‘Good girl.’
“I was thinking today,” Madam Shijimi said conversationally, “but Rejina-hime asked me if Thursday would be better. Thursday would be amenable to us.”
“Thursday it is, then.” He smiled. “I am sure that she will continue to impress. Of course, she will require accommodation for at least one shinobi escort.”
And Kami. Who could that be. It had to be someone prestigious enough that it wasn’t a snub to Rejina’s station or the Daimyo, but it also couldn’t be anyone critical. At least it wasn’t wartime. Most shinobi could actually be moved around and reassigned without any danger.
Madam Shijimi understood. On her way out, she clasped Rejina’s hands in hers and said something.
He didn’t understand it.
What.
It wasn’t his mind finally going, he realized. It just wasn’t Japanese.
Oh, yes. The Daimyo’s wife had been some sort of princess from Iron. And had been part of a prestigious program for girls to go across the ocean for cultural exchange.
It was very possible that Madam Shijimi could speak Rejina’s first language. To what degree of competency, he couldn’t ascertain.
After he and Madam Shijimi did the required rigamarole regarding Rejina’s diplomatic debutante ball, he just sat and watched Rejina for a moment.
True to form, she didn’t move under his gaze. She didn’t seem uncomfortable or scared. She might have been bored. Or mildly concussed.
She hadn’t responded to his roundabout methods the last few times. Whether that was a cultural misunderstanding or willful denial, he didn’t know. He didn’t have enough information.
‘Damn me for not checking more into Jiraiya’s life before this. I dislike unknowns.’
Maybe being straightforward was the best route. By all accounts, she seemed friendliest with people of that character.
“So, our honorable Madam Shijimi speaks some of your native language, does she?”
He didn’t bother to hide his interest. It was a normal thing to be interested in.
Rejina peered at him through downcast lashes.
“Yes.” She said, with no emotion to indicate how she felt about that. He’d gotten something, at least.
They sat in silence.
It was like debriefing his worst Jounin. They only answered the letter of your question, and not the intent. He felt like he was constantly pulling teeth to get more information.
Which is why he sometimes assigned them to garbage duty on ‘accident’.
She obviously didn’t trust him. Which is why she was getting more slack than Shiranui. Rejina-chan had very good reasons to be wary. And frankly, that wariness would keep her alive longer.
In general. She didn’t have anything to fear from him except paperwork.
“Rejina-san.” He said, trying to sound friendly.
Her left eyebrow raised, just a little. The rest of her face stayed the same. He felt satisfied with that reaction- he might have missed it if he was socially unaware or otherwise occupied.
“Rejina-hime.” He corrected. The eyebrow lowered. Evidently he’d set a precedent with introductions, and she wasn’t interested in a downgrade.
His head hurt. No one should be subjected to this much politics in the morning.
“Rejina-hime,” he started again, “would you be so kind as to get some coffee from the office for me?” He smiled in apology. It wasn’t exactly in the job description. It was not prestigious work.
She just blinked and nodded. “Mug?” she asked.
“You’ll know it when you see it.” he said, letting real weariness into his voice. The paperwork for today was going to be awful, he just knew it.
Sure enough, there was a nice mug in the dish drainer that said ‘#1 Hokage’ on it. Next to it was what was clearly a shared office set, and the one Jiraiya had dropped her off with that morning. It had a diamond ring for the handle, and was some sort of teal and pink affair.
She got both cups and then noted the ‘broken’ sign on the office coffeepot.
Out at the desks, she asked Keiko where the hell to go.
“Jounin lounge.” She pointed. “Down that hall, to the left.” Keiko leaned forward conspiratorially. “They can be very territorial and aggressive, though, so get in and out.”
“Copy that.” Regina said blandly, remembering Momo sharpening his weapons in front of Konoha nin. Sure, invading their space sounded like a great idea. “Thank you for warning me.”
She walked into the lounge anyway, purposefully ignoring all the stares and awkward not-stares.
Ugh. Their coffeepot wasn’t super full, either. She didn’t want to be the dick who took the last of the coffee and didn’t refill it.
Jiraiya- Dad would have happily done just that. What an animal.
She looked around for the coffee grounds and set the mugs down. Regina was intimately aware that she was being watched.
She tried not to sigh.
She started a fresh, strong pot, and then turned around to rinse the mugs she had. When she turned around again to get the coffee, someone was blocking the machine.
He was slumped against the counter, right in front of the coffee. She could hear it percolating.
Regina stood there with her ridiculous mugs and contemplated whether she cared about this enough to follow through.
Mr. Me eye-smiled and rose two fingers in a greeting. The coffeepot behind him finished its job. He didn’t move. The coffeepot started to overflow onto the counter.
Nope.
Regina turned and poured hot water into the two mugs, and dunked green tea satchets in them. Then she left.
Someone behind her snickered.
She walked down the hallway, pretending to be unperturbed.
When she got back into the Hokage’s office, she put her princess mug on his desk next to his papers, and went to go squat by Keiko’s desk with her hokage mug.
Kakashi felt perplexed. He’d been perfectly friendly. Rejina-hime had met him… twice, now. Probably. If that had been her in Iron, which seemed possible, given that she was definitely with Tsunade-hime and Shizune-san at the time. But hadn’t her hair been brown?
Stupid Kakashi. That was probably dye, for her safety. Being a civilian related to Jiraiya-sama was very unsafe. Brown hair was boring. He himself had barely looked twice at her, which was part of why he wasn’t sure it was Rejina-hime at all.
Fucking Genma was still laughing at him, leaning against the wall. Kakashi did not dignify that with any sort of verbal response, choosing instead the road less taken. He would not be petty.
Today.
On the way out, he immediately retracted that decision, choosing to flick out his foot in a circle and send Genma to the carpet face-first.
Normally, he’d be at the Monument right now. But Jiraiya-sama had asked him to keep an eye on Rejina. Kakashi was a colossal failure, but he meant to try.
He found her sitting on the secretary’s desk, drinking tea out of the Hokage’s mug.
Kakashi attempted to compute that and reconcile it with the very polite young woman he’d encountered before at the Icha Icha premiere and the eons-long dinner of sadness last week. Then, he remembered what she’d said to Jiraiya-sama afterwards and how she’d definitely scared the shit out of at least one Chuunin in that shinobi bar before they’d gotten there.
This tracked.
He lingered by the desk, attempting to make eye contact. Why was this so hard? Obito would have been better at this. Kakashi was a garbage person with no interpersonal skills. Even without Obito, there must be a hundred other shinobi who would be better at this. She’d been friendly with a Mist nin, for Kami’s sake.
Maybe he could ask Gai?
No.
He couldn’t outsource duty.
So he waited for her to acknowledge him.
She was reading some papers and leisurely drinking green tea, though evidently she hated it. Her jaw flexed after every sip.
The Hokage’s secretary gave him a very unimpressed look and gestured to a chair outside the office. He took it, still watching out of his peripheral.
His hand involuntarily twitched towards the new book in his pocket. He hadn’t finished it yet.
He fought with the urge for about a minute before he gave up and whipped it out, devouring words and immersing himself in a life that was much more preferable to his own.
Mr. Me was reading the book about her. In the office. In the office she worked in.
Regina twitched. She was definitely gripping the mug way too tightly.
Keiko attempted to give her a surreptitious look of pity, before handing her a stack of papers to go through to sort.
Okay, a stack of D class mission requests, those letters from the Daimyo, and several mission reports in absolutely incomprehensible handwriting.
She was still trying to decipher the first one, which may or may not have included a summary of their dinner afterwards, when Keiko and the other office staff members left to go get lunch.
Regina didn’t particularly mind staying behind. She really needed to catch up to what was going on in this place, and the Hokage needed someone to keep the riffraff out. Apparently, that was going to be a significant part of her job.
That, and enticing the wanted weirdos in.
She eyed Mr. Me. He was giggling. Judging by the way he kept raising a hand to his cheeks, he was also blushing under his mask.
Regina finished reading the first report, and resolved to find and beat this Raidou person into compliance. His handwriting and obvious dereliction of proper paperwork procedures was almost criminal.
She poked into the office supplies for a new notebook, paper trays, and writing utensils, and started taking notes in English.
Shinobi who were on her shit list were highlighted in pink. Things for her to relay to other office staff were green. Anything that needed to go to the Hokage was in orange, which seemed to suit him.
There was a report from the T&I department that she shouldn’t open. That went to the Hokage.
A letter addressed to her, from Iron. Huh.
Uh. That should probably… be reviewed? She doubted anyone would appreciate her receiving secret mail in the Hokage Tower. That went in a separate pile. She’d ask Keiko how she should handle those.
God, the paperwork was unending. She started scanning for keywords and sorting as much as she could accordingly.
She noticed Keiko returning from lunch early, because a pile of papers for the Hokage disappeared.
Regina was developing a healthy hatred for most of the Jounin she was responsible for when someone dinged the bell on Keiko’s desk.
They coughed loudly.
She looked up. A man with face-framing facial hair and a bored expression was staring at her. He was also built like a brick house.
‘What do they even feed these guys here? Rocks?’
“Worker-san, I need to see my father.” He drawled.
Also, he was an asshole. He could have asked her name.
Still, it was probably her job to figure this out.
“Name?” She asked.
He glared at her a little. Then he pointed to his hitai-ite, and down to a sash on his waist. Obviously he thought she was stupid.
“I’m new here.” She said simply. “I need a name.”
“Very new.” He sniped a bit- then seemed to remember that he was not in fact an animal. “Sorry, Sarutobi Asuma.”
“Thank you.” She was aware it came out clipped, but hey. Regina was only human. Or maybe just a worker.
She was trying to find his name on the register, but it didn’t seem to be there. And the Hokage had meetings now, at 11, and…
“It’s Asuma, not Fusuma.” He snapped.
She glanced down. Her hiragana shorthand did look pretty illegible.
“How are you working here, anyway?” He griped, leaning down over the desk. “I thought you had to be competent to work here.” His voice was slightly raised.
He didn’t know shit, but that hurt. It was only her first day and frankly this guy could fuck a tree for all she cared.
Regina wanted to cry. Jesus Christ, what was this dude’s deal?
Mr. Me was now looking over in her direction.
The tears welled up, and she willed them down. Would there be a single day that she didn’t regret coming to this hellhole? She hated fish, all the other food was too salty, no one could understand her, and everyone thought she was a total incompetent just because she wasn’t fully fluent in her (third!) language, or perfect at her job on day one.
These people were awful.
Keiko came to the rescue, barreling out of the back storage room. “Sarutobi-san, the Hokage can see you in five minutes, if you just wait here.” She gestured to the door.
He went to go sit, apparently appeased. He got out a cigarette and started smoking. Then he leaned back and blew smoke rings into the air.
Keiko asked Regina if she could help her move some boxes back in the storage room, as the other office workers trickled back in.
She shut the door and sighed.
“Sorry, Sarutobi-san isn’t usually like that.” Keiko explained, clasping her hands in front of her waist. “He and Hokage-sama have just been fighting lately… that’s all.”
Regina didn’t know what to say to that, so she just nodded. It wasn’t really an excuse to be an ass to her.
“He left the village… a couple of years ago? To go work with the Daimyo. I’m sure he’s here because Madam Shijimi decided to come today.” Keiko moved to sit on some boxes.
“So when I go to see the Fire Daimyo this week, he’ll be there.” Regina followed that line of logic. “He seemed pretty angry about something.”
“It’ll be fine.” Keiko advised. “He’s usually very laid-back. But he shouldn’t have talked to you that way. It was rude.”
“It was.” Regina agreed. She slumped down on a box next to Keiko.
She knew Keiko was watching her face, but she was tired of hiding how bad she felt. The homesickness, the confusion, and just… everything. She was used to being hypercompetent. And here, someone had credibly accused her of being incompetent. She couldn’t even tell anyone what was wrong- if Jiraiya had lied about her being his daughter to even his closest friends, it was probably for her safety. That or he was more unstable than she’d ever realized.
It all made her tired.
“Say, Keiko, is this closet sound proof?” She asked tiredly.
Keiko blinked.
“No. But… no one could really hear you without standing next to the door. We sometimes come in here to nap.”
“Okay, that’s good enough.” Regina sniffed. “I’d like to have a really good, long cry, and then come back to work. Could you make sure no one comes in?”
Keiko nodded, and bumped Regina’s shoulder with her own. “I’ll definitely do that. Don’t let them get you down, though.” Regina followed her gaze to the door, where the rest of the world was. “You work for the Hokage, same as them. They don’t have anything over you.”
Then Keiko left, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Regina laid down on the floor in a ball and cried, hard. She kept in the wailing, but let the tears fall where they wanted.
When she ran out of tears, she sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, like her grandmother used to do to her when she was little.
Then she put her hair back up, straightened her clothes, and looked through some boxes- noting some paperwork that piqued her interest. On her way out, she grabbed some supplies to pretend like she’d been working.
When she emerged from the office, the Hokage’s son was gone. Mr. Me was still there, but he wasn’t reading his book anymore. He was just holding it out in front of his face.
Regina sat down and got back to work, probably stamping files with more force than necessary.
Comments
Gromweld
"Maybe he could ask Gai?" YES. DO IT FOR THE VINE, MR. ME.
Ellen
It sucks to be stuck in a place that one doesn't like.
