Framed Subtleties

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Lazy, bloated smoke floated above the rafters and the cedar groaned. A dim chatter surged through the blackened hall. Grumbles from yellowed teeth and shady glares from eyes caked in ash passed between the tables. There were foul words choked out of dried throats, and the stench of grimy beer mixed with the smoke to produce the familiar odor these men knew.

When the battered doors pushed open on the far side of the hall to reveal a cloaked figure, the dull air changed. Wrapped feet scuffed against the oiled floorboards as the men's faces turned wary with the strange newcomer.

The general murmur softened as spiteful eyes watched the stranger glide towards the other end of the hall, brushing aside the dirt of the floorboards. They stared on for a few more seconds, pondering his destination. After he harmlessly moved into a booth in the corner, the occupants discarded the figure and slid back into the smoke.

Sitting across from the stranger in the booth, there was a balding man with a crooked grin. The man's grin widened when he noted the face under the hood. "That entrance sure was nice and subtle," jeered the man.

Sasuke uncovered his hood, his ebony eyes piercing the man. "If there was a need to be inconspicuous, you would know it."

The balding man shifted in his seat nervously. The Uchiha's gaze was as spellbinding as it was daunting. "Yes—well, I hope you can understand how I'm risking a lot by being here."

Sasuke questioned that. It was obvious the man frequented the establishment; he fit right in with the crowd. "The intel? You have it?"

The informant raised his hands. They were skinny with the flesh hugging the bone, as if they were sealing away the substance of the man himself. "Now, now. Let's not bring haste into this. I can order us some drinks, if you'd like."

Sasuke leaned slightly into the table, annoyed. "You just stated this was risky. I don't have time to waste. Show me the intel."

He loathed wasting time over trivial matters, especially when it could be better spent by protecting his home. There was also the fact that he wasn't partial to his current location. The vile aroma of the establishment was enough to make a grown man retch, but Sasuke surmised the nefarious eyes of the men in the hall were far worse than their pungent sweat. Still, it was nothing to concern himself over.

The informant attempted to shrug, but there was a stiffness in his shoulders. "If you say so, but I must insist that there's no need to rush—"

A sudden sliver of unease and instinctive caution flared in the back of the informant's skull. He gawked across the table at the gripping eyes that seized all his attention. There was no change of color or shape there, but the man could feel the filtered power; it oozed like a piceous spring and fastened its visceral, venerable intensity upon him.

"Intel," Sasuke demanded sternly without raising his voice.

The informant impulsively motioned to his coat where he extracted a small scroll. He lowered it onto the table. "Here."

Sasuke snatched the scroll, broke the seal, and read its contents; as if he was merely picking up his mail from outside his house. After he finished, he nodded and observed the informant. "Thank you. This concludes our business." He rolled up the parchment and moved to leave, but he froze in place when he saw the object in the informant's hands.

The informant's expression was perturbed, yet his hand rose sheepishly to rub his cheek. "I was ordered by the Hokage to also give you this."

The tentative motion of Sasuke reaching for the frame would have been considered undignified to him under any other circumstances, but his insatiate need to better glimpse the item felt warranted. He held it firmly; its black iron frame sliding against his fingers.

"How did he get this?" Sasuke asked, his tone floating with the smoke.

The informant blinked and stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "Um, well, he didn't say. He said it was yours to begin with or something…"

"Leave."

"Pardon?"

Not another word was said between them because as soon as the informant sensed a familiar rise in the Uchiha's scowl—one that made the back of his head ache—he darted out of the booth and into the expanse of cedar and decadence.

For a long time, Sasuke examined the picture. That day had been sunny, warm. The glass casing had cracked years ago, but the green vibrancy of the grass in the background swelled. His brother's eyes appeared to be as lively as his own in the image. Their mother had taken it, and he speculated if that was why they were smiling. No. It was for another reason. He was certain. He could feel the embrace of his brother that the photograph ensured.

Sasuke wondered where the resting place of this picture was before Naruto had discovered it. Did it see the blood the day when he cursed his brother's name? Throughout the years of doubt and rage, did it know of his misgivings and growth? His gaze lingered on the stillness of his younger self grinning at him from a different time.

After he passed away from the hall like a shade, the frame concealed safely under his cloak, Sasuke vanished back into a separate reality from what his young smile promised.

This was written as some much-needed practice for my dialogue. I also enjoy working with Sasuke's character as his idiosyncrasies are far different from the mood I typically write about. Thanks for reading.

-CM