Chapter one: A daily meeting that suddenly turns into something big

As I was searching for my daily spot on the bus from 9.11, the bus more crowded than usual, I busted my own eyes on watching her again. So my daily spot had been taken it appeared, and there was no other option left but to lean against the bus' wall. It was another dragging day in New Jersey, a pain in the neck, and I was off to school again. I study economics at Cinnaminson University. Together with my brother we run a tiny pub in the heart of Trenton called 'Sake', named after a typical Japanese beverage. Originally me and my brother are both Japanese, but ever since our parents died grief was too strong to keep on living in Japan, so we moved to America. In order to maintain our country's traditions, we decided to run our own pub and let New Jersey have a taste of Japan, fortunately that turned out to be a good idea. My older brother runs it though, I only help out in the weekends. It's difficult for orphans to provide their own living, on top of that going to university. It's not quite honorific for our family's name, being poor orphans, but my brother and I get along well enough to have forgotten about our surnames. Uchiha was a dead name now in Japan, having been conquered by the number one Hyuga company. Just like the Uchiha, the Hyuga company was also a bank that was being passed down from generation to generation, and they had won an eternal everlasting rivalry against the Uchiha. So the Uchiha named had been wiped out and was dead. My name is Sasuke Uchiha.

And just like any other day as I was taking the bus to go to school, she was on the bus too. My eyes had come accustomed to her painfully blue eyes and long brown hair. She had a lovely childish smile and she seemed so – I know this will sound strange and disunderstandable – alive. Like this warm aura she was emanating from the tops of her fingers till her dazzling eyelashes. I had no idea who she was nor had I ever talked to her, but I did know that every time I got on this bus and saw her my heart would pound a ten times faster than usual. Swallowing was getting inconvenient and legs began trembling. And just like any other day, she was holding her sketchbook in her left arm and focused on her drawing, though I had no idea what it exactly was she was drawing. At the rhythm of the music playing next to her ear by a student's iPod, one that also took this very bus every day, her right foot tapped along at the music as she was humming the melody with her soft bright voice. It was an enchanting spell that would catch me every single day, over and over again. There was this one day that I had completely forgotten about the fact that I needed to get off the bus before she does. From the moment she had gotten up to leave her personal daily seat, I had suddenly realized I had had to descend from the bus two stops earlier. Since I was already late at school, I had decided to follow her – I know it sounds creepy – and while I had expected her to go to school – she seemed rather young of age – she took right and had ended up entering a pancake house. If my conclusions appear to be right, it seems that she work there every day from 9. 30 to 7.00 in the evening. Except in the weekends of course, I didn't know about that for I never take the bus during the weekend.

As usual she wore a challenging outfit. Not in a sexual way, challenging like who would wear that in combination with that?! Her favourite garment were definitely those leg warmers. She had all kinds of them: pink, yellow, blue, orange, purple, striped, dotted, circles, name it. Today was striped orange – yellow – brown –red day, a perfect combination during the winter. She also wore yellow ochre stockings, Scottish patterned brown winter shorts, a wide, deep red shirt reading an Arabic letter and suspenders: her second most favourite garment. Next to her was her fluffy dark blue coat, framing her hips, and a scarf with the same colour as her stockings. Third most favourite garment: the shoes. Tough, leather black Dr. Martens. Now who would think a little girl (about 5 feet) with maximum cute factor, wearing fluffy blue coat, yellow stockings, suspenders and heavy boots would match? It sure worked for her.

The bus stopped after she rang the little bell telling the bus driver to stop. She got up from her seat, more like hopping, and chaotically gathered her drawing supplies together to hurry and get off the bus. As she reached the doors which were now open, allowing the cold breeze to enter the bus, she passed right in front of my eyes, smiled and waved. I was so overwhelmed and surprised I didn't even wave back, instead, I only turned red like a lobster, but unlike others she only laughed with it and took off. That's when it hit me: I had missed my stop, again.

"I thought you were gonna skip school again. It surprised me you hurried all the way back teme!"

I arrived one hour later than usual at school, all sweaty and felt like smelling terrible. Since there was only one bus driving this route, I had no choice but to last the entire drive until it would drive back. So as soon as I was at the right stop I ran as fast as I could to at least catch up with the second period. Fortunately that plan had worked out, though I was out of breath and I had run all the way up here without jacket or sweater, in the cold, meaning I'd definitely catch a cold. Naruto's way too exaggerating voice would keep me from falling asleep during class though. And to my other half was sitting Kiba, also a good friend of mine, complaining I smelled terrible and shelled me several times during lecture with his deodorant. I didn't know what smelled worse: my sweat or Kiba's – as he described it – manly deodorant, to awaken the beast inside of you! I don't have a lot of friends, partly because they don't like me because I'm Japanese – guess my whole school's filled with racists – but most probably because I scored with the ladies. The only problem was, I hated the attention. I felt awkward near girls, didn't know what to say and turned silent for I was embarrassed, most of the times it felt like my mouth was being sewed with a metal threat. But I got along with Naruto and Kiba for sure. A man doesn't need a lot of friends as long as he has one real friend.

As school finished, we decided to go and grab some food in Philadelphia City. Honestly, I only wanted to stretch time so I could take the bus from 7.09. We grabbed some burgers in the nearest Mac Donalds and really, I have no idea why that tent's so popular. It was 7 pm before I even realized, making me run for my bus again. Usually I'm not this disorientated, I still have no clue of what has gotten into me. But I got on my bus right on time, and she was there too.

"Pardon young man?"

Already taken away by her beauty, I only heard the old lady standing next to me with one ear. After having glimpsed at her one more time, I looked right where an old woman with purple flower head and other so so wrong old-women clothes was standing. "Would you mind giving up your seat? My legs aren't what they used to be."

"Erm, yeah, sure."

"Thank you very much," she smiled and as I got up she very carefully took place, almost like her bones were going to yield any moment. I kept my distance with her while still staring unconsciously at her, again taken away by her appearance, when all of a sudden I felt a slight kick against my foot, than another one, and before I knew a very very painful one so I seized for my foot and turned a sour expression. I looked back at the old woman who was smiling – did she enjoy hurting me?! - trying to laugh back with an awkward face.

"You should talk to her child, she's indeed a lovely young woman. Not to mention veeeery friendly."

"You know her?" Why is it that I'm always turning red?

"Oh yes I do I do, I visit the pancake house where she works every Friday of the week!" With her hands she gestured in a typical granny-way, just like the way she talked. I already knew where this was going to: a dragging old-women talk. "Except the second Friday of July, because then is my granddaughter's birthday. And the first Friday of December because then –"

"What kind of work does she do?"

"She's a servant of course, she awakens the fire in every old geezer visiting that pancake house!" This. Was. Awkward. "And she serves excellent coffee. She once gave me this recipe to make your own cream to get rid of those annoying welts on my breasts, after a week it was already –"

"You wouldn't happen to know her name, would you?"

"Aah, I'm afraid so my dear. Not much is known about her private life, it's like she refuses to acknowledge her own self. But I'm sure that one day she'll find a handsome young man such as yourself to accept herself as who she truly believes she is."

Words were passing by as I drowned in her eyes again. How could a woman so beautiful not acknowledge her own self? She seemed so friendly, so intelligent, so perfect. That's when I saw something else in her eyes, something broken. It occurred to me that maybe she had a reason to look so perfect, maybe she had been hurt too just like me and my brother, and was she now hiding herself behind a smile, hoping no one would save her from her misery because she felt home at it.

"Now go and get her boy!"

The old woman hit me with her stick again, on my but for Christ's sake, and pushed me off so I ended up next to her seat, clinching onto the baluster to keep myself from falling. After gathering my balance, I looked up, and to my greatest fear I was looking straight into her eyes, my face only inches away from her. It was like my tongue had been swallowed, I didn't even want to know how red my face was looking. I started perspiring again, my legs were like jelly pudding all of a sudden. This was it, I was going to say something really stupid again and blow it for the rest of my life.

"I'm so sorry!" So without even realizing I pushed myself off to try and gain some space between our faces, and what a coincidence, the bus just needed to take right at that very moment, making me end up with my buttocks on the floor, a chill running through my spine as a sharp pain from the old women's walking cane was turning back again. I had an interesting way with first impressions. But surprisingly enough, she was chuckling as she saw me sitting on the floor and steam coming out of my ears. I swear I could hear the old woman laughing at the end of the bus.

"Are you okay?" she asked while laughing and offered me a hand. I didn't take it though, I felt like touching her was a bad idea. Instead I wiped away the dust from my ass and felt myself being all uncomfortable when she was laughing at the sight, uneasily scratching the back of my neck and my annoying ass-ducked hair that just wouldn't flatten. I hated my hair just as much as I hated my wrists. For some reason, I kept believing myself that I had wrists so fragile and thin aliens had transplanted them with women's wrists when I was little. I had quite some fantasy when I was little, nowadays I was less or more serious all of the times, a big feature why I had such bad humour.

"Your hair," she tauntingly remarked and smiled, though it actually seemed rather cute than making fun of it. She stared at it like she was seeing a star for the very first time, eyes all dazzling and mouth smiling and slightly separated. I was already reaching for it in an attempt to stop it from bouncing, when all of a sudden her interest got lost and she jumped up like a child, gathering her supplies and gracefully danced her way passed me. She waved just like any other time, smiling and left the bus, leaving me behind with a face so red it was indescribable, and from the corner of my mouth the slightest curl.

I had missed my bus stop again.

"How was school?"

"As usual."

"You mean boring?"

"Sort of."

My brother laughed while dressing the table and finishing the meal. I was busy doing homework, well I was trying to solve my homework, though my mind couldn't stop thinking about her. I had actually liked the way she had referred to my hair, while normally I absolutely hate it when people even try to mention it. I just couldn't stop but wondering what was it she was going to say about it. Even more, I wondered what would've happened if she needed to stay on the bus even longer. Maybe we would've had a decent conversation? Though that seemed quite impossible because I'm still Sasuke Uchiha. And what about tomorrow? Should I talk to her? Wait, tomorrow it's Saturday. That means working. Blast it.

"SASUKE!

"Huh, what?"

"Three times otouto, you sure were lost in your own thoughts. Wouldn't be thinking about that girl again would you?"

I lifted my pencil from my papers and gave up the eternal struggle of forcing myself to solve the following questions. Why was it again I was studying economics? Now that I see it all clear on paper, it's actually quite boring. Dinner was ready so I made myself comfortable at the dining table, already digging in when Itachi obviously wanted to pick lose some more information.

"When are you finally going to talk to her, really, this is getting more on my nerves than yours brother. Keep holding it for yourself and before you know it she has a boyfriend."

"It's easier than it looks okay?" I said as I stuffed some rice in my mouth. "You know I'm terrible with girls..."

"I sure do brother, I sure do."

Itachi and I had always been quite close, since Itachi had always taken care of me when our parents were out for work. Ever since our parents passed away, that bond had only tightened. I was 11 and Itachi 16, but since I got caught up in the tragic accident myself, I don't remember much of it. Itachi on the other hand has the image burned in his eyes forever. As soon as we moved to the USA, Itachi had taken care of me like a son. So yeah, I trusted a lot to my brother, and I was studying economics to one day maybe revive and purify the Uchiha name, to my big brother's greatest sorrow. For him, achieving my goal of one day cleansing our family name seemed a ridiculous idea that would haunt my future until the moment I die, only becoming a burden and heavy weigh on my shoulders. However, I though different about that. In my opinion, the Hyuga company needed to be put in his place. Obsessed by my own lust for revenge, I decided to study economics, now fully regretting it though. I've always been interested in literature and languages, but where would I find a multiple-language tutor at this time of the year. Economics it was.

"Hey you wanna go to Philadelphia tomorrow? I need some decoration and ornament for the pubs with Christmas coming up and stuff. Maybe we can make it a trip, do some shopping, catch a movie, have something to eat. You know, that kind of stuff.

"I'm in."

"Then that's a date Sasuke-kun," he winked. How I hate it when he does that.

We got up quite early, but that was only normal for both of us. We go to bed at 10 o'clock, even in the weekends, and get up at seven every day. A car was something we didn't have, so as we were walking outside breathing little clouds through our lips to go and grab a bus, my back tensed when I entered it and found myself pierced to the ground like someone had hammered nails through my feet. I had never taken the bus during the weekends, but now I knew: she does. And of course Itachi would notice her too, having seen her before too, and dragged me along to two bus seats before something embarrassing would happen. Her behaviour was just like any other daily routine, again tapping along with someone's music and drawing. To her, it didn't even seem like it was weekend, but just another day of work. Feeling bad for her that she also has to work on Saturday, my brother punched me in the stomach to keep me from staring, and I was already seizing for my stomach and asking what his problem was.

"Just go and talk to her already."

"Are you insane?!" I whispered in a furious way, "and make myself ridiculous again?! She probably won't even recognize me!"

"I doubt that," he smiled at pointed at her, so I turned my head. She was looking in this direction, smiling when our eyes met, and when she was sure I was looking, waved so briefly I hadn't even seen it. It was a good thing Itachi was sitting next to me, he took a grip on my hand and made me wave back, me being too overwhelmed and shy to wave back, which made her laugh and I could melt in that adorable chuckle forever. So innocent and childish, yet also so feminine. But after having done that she returned her gaze to her sketchbook again. I don't know why, but I had this strange feeling she was constantly watching me, when Itachi whispered in my ear and confirmed that statement. Now I was definitely losing my mind.

This time it was taking the bus to the centre of Philadelphia, meaning we had to get off at the exact same stop as hers. We weren't even there, but already panic was rushing through my bones, stress because we needed to get off at the same bus stop. What should I do? Should I let her get off first? Maybe help her? No that's ridiculous, it are only three stairs. What if we have to turn right too? Would we walk next to her?

"SASUKE!"

Again, I looked up, surprised by my brother's sudden appearance. He stood up and directing I should do the same. She was smiling this way again, probably having seen my brother needed to call my names three times after having noticed. However, she left the bus before I had gotten off so that the questions I had been asking myself the other minute had been completely useless. She vanished like snow in the sun.

"I had never expected to find so much decoration for the pub. Look at it Sasuke, don't you just love it! Look at it! Saaaasuke!"

"Okay I get it, get that fucking deer out of my face!"

"No need for you to act so rude all of a sudden Sasuke. Geez, you'd expect more from a guy of your age. Or would it be, you don't feel comfortable?"

I pulled an annoyed face. So Itachi had dragged me to the nearest pancake house in Philadelphia, that just happened to be the place where 'busgirl' works! Of course, of course, it was the only pancake house in Philadelphia centre. Itachi knew that though. And then they say a brother is your most loyal friend.

"You know grumpy-face, I sincerely hope we'll get that amazing waitress every old man in this pancake house is talking about. It's said she makes the best coffee in Philadelphia!"

"Yeah well, as soon as I get that fucking coffee I'll throw it in your face." It was a tease of course, but I felt like dying when I recognized that voice, my pale face slowly turning direction as at my very right the beautiful waitress everyone was talking about was standing, aka 'busgirl', in a freaking tight, short, smoking hot waitress dress, hair tied in a dot. Right now I wanted to throw that hot coffee in my own face in the hope she wouldn't see me, though that was too late. I considered ordering faint on the house or instant death, as long as this wasn't happening.

"Welcome to Hansel and Gretel, the best pancake house in Philadelphia's history! How can I help you?!"

She was way too excited to be a waitress. The arousal in my pants was growing when she squeezed her arms closer to each other, offering an even better view on her cleavage. I was cursing myself for thinking about her in that sort of way, but being a man I couldn't help it either. But what still had caught me the most was her accent which I hadn't noticed before. Such a warming and charming European English I hadn't encountered yet, like she was coming from the heart of London from a bloodline so pure that her entire chain of ancestors were pureblood British. Again, I was too overwhelmed to say something, so my brother took his turn, a bad idea.

"Hello miss, it's our first time here, what do you recommend?"

"Oh? Erm." She seemed a little absent for a moment as she was considering the possibilities, unlike other girls she lived in her own world which made her a little 'weird'. Obviously, I couldn't help but feel attracted by her innocence. Or maybe it was that dress? "Well, the pancakes of course mister. The ice cream in homemade but I doubt it's the time of the year to eat ice cream," and she laughed with her own joke and so Itachi did too although that wasn't funny at all.

"What do you think brother?"

She was looking at me. Waiting for an answer. Open your fucking mouth Sasuke!

"I hate pancakes."

Did I really say that.

Lots and lots of awkwardness filled the air, and my pale face made room for a humiliated one. Trying to make up things, I attempted another answer, which came out all stammering and of course, of course my voice needed to slip. "No, no, I don't like pancakes, I mean I do. It's just, I prefer ice cream, and –"

"We have ice cream too sir," she said a little confused and slightly tilted her head. I was getting more nervous.

"No, erm, no ice cream, I erm, do you have something without... milk?" What the hell, what kind of a question was that. And some timing, I just had to look at her breasts while asking that. Itachi was slowly hiding his face with his hand. He must've been asking himself why it was that his brother was so hopeless when it came down to girls. Luckily she could laugh with it.

"Well let's see, we're a pancake house, most products are with milk. Are you allergic or something? We have cola if you want to? Or lemonade or water or tea or –"

"Tea will do." I was slowly regaining my coolness.

"Tea?! Great! What flavour?!"

Now I have to fucking choose a flavour?! "Erm..."

"Wait wait, you look like the mint-type, am I right?" she smiled?

".. Yeeeaah, yeah! Mint! I loooove mint." (I hate mint) In the distance I could hear my brother hitting his face against the table several times, when all of a sudden he kicked me so hard on the toes I shouted in front of the entire café. Everyone was staring at me, not even having bothered to swallow their food while chewing.

"Are you alright, sir?" she asked hesitatingly and she was already reaching for my shoulder, her enormous bosom coming straight at me almost feeling like they would crush me.

"He's fine," Itachi said before she could touch me, "he's always this weird. Why don't you make it two coffees with extra whipped cream?"

"But sir, there's milk in –"

"Oh I know that," he smiled.

"Well then," and she escaped a cough while writing down the order. As soon as sexy waitress aka busgirl had left I kicked Itachi back and very imminently sent killing-looks at him, though he only laughed. So for first impression, if it wasn't falling on my but it was staring at her boobs. I'd only be a miracle if I ever were to end up having a date with this girl.

"Here you go." As exciting as in the beginning of the everlasting order, she put down two tiny plates holding a cup of coffee with whipped cream, so much it reminded me of a really bad porn movie. She ran hopping back to her bar, leaving the two of us behind with our coffee, emanating a trail of sweet aromatic coffee and sugar smell like it was her shampoo's smell. From the moment I had been brought back to reality with Itachi snapping his fingers, I found myself staring back in my coffee like I was going to predict the future. So actually, I don't really like coffee, but I'd feel bad to just let it be and run cold. At least I could stir in it a little, and eat the cream... Though I highly doubt that was a great idea since I had a first-class view on a ducking busgirl in tight waitress clothes. Without even realizing I was licking the whipped cream from my spoon while watching her work, all smiling and bright welcoming customers, grabbing the chocolate sauce, spilling it on the pancakes, licking away a stain of chocolate from the top of her fingers, ... It was only when Itachi laughed again that I realized I had been sucking on my spoon the whole time. I looked back at the coffee, swallowed, and with closed eyes tried to bottom up the cup in the hope of the flavour not dominating. But as soon as my lips took in the sweet sensation of the best coffee in Philadelphia, my arousal reached even higher. This was probably the best, most intense, instigating coffee I had ever tasted in my entire life. I grew silent as I lowered the empty cup of coffee and placed it back on the plate, disappointed it was already empty, looked over at Itachi's cup, but that was already empty too.

"Baka, it's empty," he laughed and continued reading the papers, "Philadelphia wasn't lying when they referred to the coffee as 'cherubic'."

"Yeah, they definitely weren't..." I stared at my empty cup for the remain of the time, hoping that if I would stare long enough there would appear more out of nowhere. Ever had that feeling you were eating something so heavenly tasty and good it felt like sex on your plate? That was what I was experiencing right now, no kidding. And maybe sexy waitress had something to do with that too. And it's definitely not like I'm some sort of pervy sexually frustrated rapist or something, not at all. I've never had a girlfriend so I have no idea how that feels like in the first place. To be honest, I've never been strongly sexually attracted to girls. Not that I'm gay, I just wasn't interested in it. But now here I was, in a Pancake House for God's sake, turned on by a fucking cup of coffee.

"Satisfied, sir?"

As I looked up, I stared back into her painfully blue eyes. The words she had chosen to ask her question were so tauntingly on purpose I felt like pinning her to the wall at this very moment. Or maybe she was just really really naive. Considering the possibilities, it was probably number two. And Itachi just had to make things worse, clearly enjoying this. "Well actually," and he lowered his papers to take a good look at busgirl, "my brother doesn't like coffee." He was testing her. Being the keeper of a local pub himself, curious how she would react.

"I never recommended the coffee, sir," and she smiled away the remark, exactly how a waitress was supposed to act in these kind of situation.

"You're a sharp one, I'll give you that," he laughed and put down the papers, "but really, he hates coffee. So how was is Sasuke? Satisfying?"

"I – I guess s-so"

Now I achieved somehow to force a drowsy smile at her on which she smiled back at me and put the plates with cups on her tray and danced her way back to the bar, a true miracle nothing had ended up on the floor. She was so lovely and looked so happy, but then why was it that I sensed something different too? Sure she smiled and giggled almost the whole time, but there was something hidden underneath her smile, having stealthy settled in her heart a long time ago. For some reason her smile would look so fake.

"We'll have to hurry if we wanna catch that bus."

"What? Oh, yeah."

"Don't worry otouto," Itachi winked at me while working his way into his leather jacket, "with just the slightest bit of luck she likes clumsy guys like you."

"Geez, thanks niisan." Following him outside, she said her usual sentence she was supposed to say every time a customer were to leave and waved. Again startled I held still in the middle of the doorstep, about to take the next step outside when I suddenly realized there was a little step. As a result, I ended up with my face on the pavement, but for once luck was at my side: at least I had managed to close the door.

"Yep, you'll definitely be lucky if she like's clumsy guys Sasuke."

For the record: I have no idea if there's a university in Cinnaminson, if so I'm not accusing any of you of racism!

ShadowOfSelfdestruction