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The Man and his Family

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She sighed heavily -- her annoyance being evident with each breath. Tossing back the comforter, Senjō sat upright while her feet hung loosely off their fortress. The woman when to slide of her slippers whilst reaching for her white house robe to tightly wrap around her form. Upon exiting her room and taking the small flight of stairs into the family room, Senjō had taken notice of her youngest daughter -- whom, much to her surprise, was apparently still awake. "Himey, dear? What are you still doing up at this time?" Senjō questioned, trailing her way over to Shikahime.

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She sighed heavily -- her annoyance being evident with each breath. Tossing back the comforter, Senjō sat upright while her feet hung loosely off their fortress. The woman when to slide of her slippers whilst reaching for her white house robe to tightly wrap around her form. Upon exiting her room and taking the small flight of stairs into the family room, Senjō had taken notice of her youngest daughter -- whom, much to her surprise, was apparently still awake. "Himey, dear? What are you still doing up at this time?" Senjō questioned, trailing her way over to Shikahime. Shikahime sat in the family room, unaware of her mother's presence until the latter spoke. "Nothing, just waiting for the Hokage to return home. He always seem to be staying later and later at the offices. I'm worried about dad and whatever it is that is occupying his mind at the moment. He's not the kind of person to shirk from responsibilities, so he wouldn't be staying late if it was something trivial." Her blue eyes reflected a deep seated worry and a hint of anger at this recurring sequence. Like her mother, Shika had grown tired of the convenient excuses that her father provided when pressed. But it still puzzled her what the issue was, as despite her best efforts the answer eluded her. With a sigh of frustration Shika placed the Rubik's cube on the table. She had solved it several times already over the course of her waiting, despite scrambling it a random manner. Shika then stood, revealing that she was fully dressed despite the late hour. "Enough of this, I need to know what's going on." Shika stated flatly, seething with impatience. Even her reservoir of patience built from daily interactions with her older sister had ran dry. It was time to confront the culprit, regardless of the intrusion. Despite being prone to strategy, Shikahime remained a woman of action, and it was this trait that dominated her interactions with society. She pulled on her ponytail, letting her russet hair cascade down her back. The mother could feel the amount of frustration that overcame her child's being. As Senjō could coincide with how Shikahime had been feeling. She had released yet another evidently annoyed sigh, placing her hand atop the curvature of her hips. "I was just on my way to see your father, hopefully to find out what's keeping him." Without saying anything more, Senjō waved her hand, signaling Shika to follow. Exiting the warmth of their home, the duo stepped out into the cold night in order to seek answers to the ever-so recurring question. Within the palace, the two continue down the hall --reaching toward the man's sanctuary. A small crack allowed light to escape from the office, and in the quiet of the night, small taps were heard -- continuing a rhythmatic beat that echoed light. With such a small distance from their destination, Senjō and Shika barged into Shikaniku's domain, with the intentions of releasing a hellish amount of fury upon the the unsuspecting male. "Shikaniku, why in the hell are you still here at this hour?" Senjō began, trying to keep her composure within grasp. "Because I have work to do." His voice was silent, his eyes still, and his tone apathetic. The creases of his eyes are colored with bags. He reaches for a new mug filled with coffee and drinks, then immediately back goes back to his work. "What are you two doing here? I figure you'd both be asleep by now," he speculates, yet as he addresses them his eyes never lift from his paper. And then, just as the mug would lightly skim the surface of the desk, in a single swipe -- the glass object appeared to dance across the air, landing onto the comfort of the wooden floor, having broken into hundred of pieces and wasting its contents upon the floor. The culprit, was none other than the man's wife. One's face who rejected their own anger. She reached forth -- gripping the man's white collar with a single hand. Her eyes barreled deep into his soul as the distance between them thinned. Despite all of his power, Shikaniku was well aware of the powers of his own wife. He was a gentleman on top of that and his love for her made it impossible for him to strike back. He sighed and returned a tired look of his own. "Senjō, you don't understand. I need to work." The woman's nostrila flared before a sigh escaped her breath. Her grip loosened, allowing Shikaniku to fall back into his seat. "You're right," her voice echoed, broadcasting her contemporary anger. "So why don't you help me understand? HMM!?" She continued on, reentering his personal space once more. Shikahime watched silently as this unfolded, her mother acting upon the frustration they both shared. "Do explain. Such a thing would potentially remedy the situation." she said finally, still glaring at her father. Part of her was surprised that her older sister was still asleep, remembering the latter voicing similar irritations about Shika's consistent late nights. "Senjō." He glanced looked her in the eyes. "Shikahime." Then, his eyes fell upon his daughter and then back to his wife. "I'm the Hokage; I have responsibilities that I need to fulfill." Shikaniku looked around his desk and picked up a black book. Most shinobi prayed their names never entered as content. "For example, I need to update this and have it released by the beginning of next week while maintaining other duties. You see now, right?" Yanking the book from the man's clutches, Senjō had begun of squeeze it into a roller of some sort. Her unyielding rage continued to bulid as she lifted the coiled pages above her head to bring it crashing down upon her husband's. "A BINGO BOOK?!?" Senjō's voice echoed yet again as it violently shook the room. "That's your excuse?" She began to grow quiet, dropping the wrinkles book into the floors of Shikaniku's office. "Shika.. I can't keep doing this.. These guessing games are getting old." She paused for a moment, letting a brief sigh escape her shaky fortress. "If you gave someone on the side, you need to tell me." Shikaniku flinched as he protectively put his hand on the crown of his head. Ever since she adopted his surname, people tend to forget that Senjō was a member of the Senju and Uzumaki clans, and Shikaniku was no different until she reminded him with her fist. Between the two, she was undoubtedly physically stronger and during periods of extreme rage, such as this one, she proved it. "Senjō, honey. I'm not doing ANYTHING with anyone on the side. You know I'd never do that to you or to my family. I'm not like that." The adrenaline surging throughout her body slowly began to subside. Senjō turned her head toward the windows to avoid eye. "I know.. It's just that you've been so standoffish. I tend to worry a bit much but you're just not the same anymore." Turning her face back toward her husband, her blue began to dig into his own once again. There was a momentary silence that fell upon the room, not long before there was creaking noise -- indicating slow but steady movement. The doors of the office had reopen and in stormed the blonde haired first born of the hokage. Swinging her massive hair, which was somewaht restrained jn a messy bun -- Sumire side eyed her sister. "Ew, Shikahime, fix your face." She grinned, glancing across the room at her mother and father. "Since when is it okay to leave a pregnant lady to fend for herself!." She mused, skimming her hand and over her slightly bulging abdomen. "What are you all doing up here in the first place? Look at how late it is." "Don't remind me please, Sumire." Everytime Shikaniku looked at his daughter, it somehow managed to fill a pool of unyielding rage mixed with excitement. Though, he hated this blood was tainted by that of the Hatake bloodline. He focused his eyes back onto his wife. "Senjō, you have to trust me when I say I'm here for good reason." He sighed. "The village faces as a threat that we've never faced before, Senjō, and honestly," he paused. His eyes moved across the room and away from Senjō's as if he was embarrassed. "I don't know how to deal with it. For some reason, I can't think of a way to deal with it." Shikaniku's eye refocused on his wife's own. "I have all these people counting on me, and...and, I just can't help them. Do you know how that feels?" "Worry about yourself first." Shikahime retorted before flipping her hair. Such an attitude proved that she had been hanging around her older sister. "If anything, you'd wear out any would be assailant with your words, no extra bodyguards needed." Shika said with a smirk. Despite their constant bickering, made worse by Sumire's pregnancy, the two were very close. "He should be able to answer that question for you," she continued, giving her father the side eye before returning to her sister. Despite the situation, Sumire's sudden intrusion served to lessen the tension in the room as far as Shika was concerned. Part of her felt like this conversation that continued between her mother and father was one reserved for them exclusively, despite her father's tone remaining somewhat general. She wondered if now was a good idea to excuse herself so they could work things out. "Oh father, you still aren't over that yet? Katoku and I have been married for a while year now.." Sumire argued on Katoku's behalf. "I honestly never got why you didn't like him in the first place. But whatever." Almost as if she had read the mind of her younger sister, Sumire turned to face Shikahime, a smug grin formed across her lower face. "Come on, Himey. Let's go fix your face." She mused tugging on Shikahime's chin. "See you two in the morning!" Sumire shouted in song as the two exited the room, closing the door behind them. Feelings of sorrow covered Senjō's being, regretting her recent fit of rage. She moved closer, placing her frame on top of the man's lap. "I can't say I do. But sometimes, I just want to know what's going on your mind. I'm sorry that i have a naturally skeptical mind. I tend to over think things." Her hand moved toward the crown of his head, gently caressing the spot that was recently bruised by the wrinkled bingo book. As she fell upon his lap, Shikaniku caressed her hair. "I guess, I could be a little more open." In all of their relationship, although the two loved each-other, there had never been a period without tension. It was times when their relationship are overwhelmed with conflict and that was the period where it thrived, because when the conflict was resolved their relationship reaped the benefits of the contrasting period of happiness. He sighed. "The land of lightning obliterated another smaller nation." Senjō's hand ceased movement, her visage become stern. "Obliterate? As in completely destroy? Redced to rubble?" She immediately wanted to ask why, but returned quiet to give the hokage time to explain the situation. Though with power like that, Senjō wondered what the Land of Lightning would be planning to do with it. And what could that mean for Konoha? Gently removing Senjō from his lap, Shikaniku brushed aside stacks of paperwork and from the haystack of paper he pulled a folder of photos. In its content, the sun illuminated the grassy plain. His tone became stern. "A few weeks ago, there was a bustling village in this exact location. There were over thirty thousand civilians living in this land, yet there is nothing," Shikaniku informed, pushing the picture back into the stack of work. "I haven't officially released this information even to my advisers. It could bring about a panick in the shinobi world; one that we don't need." "I see..." Senjō's voice became quiet. "Such information could possibly throw the world into chaos. Potentially starting a war between the great nations." The woman walked toward the window, glaring up at the moonlit heavens. "This needs to be handled very delicately. We don't want to cause an uproar with the other nations." Gently tugging her hair behind her ear, the woman turned her body back toward her husband. "A summit might soon be in suit. Have you considered calling the nations together?" "Of course not." Shikaniku looked over to ensure that his children hadn't been lurking in the shadows. He knew his eldest daughter and how many secrets she spilled. Granted, most of them were at the expense of her youngest sister whom, either through divine interference or some other supernatural interaction, had managed to forgive and ignore her. Shikaniku expressed a gratitude in her tolerance; he yearned it. He didn't wish to possess many of Sumire's best features. "I'm afraid getting a summit together without inviting Kumogakure would be an invitation of suspicion. More than that, we have no idea whose allies with them and who isn't." The red haired woman placed her thumb upon her chin, her mind traveled deep into thought. It would appear as if this was a real pickle, so.much so that the woman's mind was shooting blanks. She seemed to be incapable of thinking of way to avoid conflict. Then again, there were probably a lot of things yet to be discovered. "Have you ever considered that this incident could've possibly been a set up?"