I | One
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It was a sweltering day. Being on a train where your palms got clammy from the humidity did not help the case of the flooding heat-wave.
About a half an hour earlier, the air conditioning on that very train had ground to a slow, sickening halt. It screeched before letting out languid, dying breaths, until, finally, it ceased to generate its cool air to the passengers.
It had been their death sentence on that sultry evening, many of the passengers grimaced when the heat began to slide over their bodies.
She had just sat there; glowering out the window, sending glares to anyone that dared to question her pink hair with their eyes.
But as she warded off another of the passenger's curious gazes (a lot of the non-regulars liked to stare), someone caught her eye.
She knew his face from somewhere.
His lips were pursed together in what looked like deep thought or frustration – she couldn't quite tell. Beautifully long locks cascaded over his shoulder and also framed his face, it being a familiar shade of black to her. His prolonged tear ducts would have looked wrong on anyone else's face, making them look old. But it fit him well, giving him an air of sophistication and brilliance.
Then there were his eyes; she had only caught a glimpse of him looking out the window before he had closed his eyes, adding to the look of deep contemplation on his face. They were a beautiful shade of onyx black. They might have looked dull, had he not had an angelic face to fit them. They were sparkling, twinkling, glistening. She found herself lost in that one image that remained in her mind, of his eyes: deep pools of sable that seemed to be never-ending, pooling into depths and depths that she had never seen before.
She had been so absorbed in the architecture of his face that she didn't notice when he opened his eyes and his lips softened into a smooth curve, removing all looks of expression to reveal an expressionless demeanour - she had been caught gawking.
Hastily, she looked away. With embarrassment portrayed on her features, she angled herself to look out of the window once again. She felt his eyes bore into the back of her head. He was assessing the person that had been openly staring; she knew it.
She looked back at him, so as to make herself a little less awkward and seem less strange. The almost intimate contact was broken as she looked around the train. There were three people on the carriage, bar the mysterious, handsome stranger and herself. "Stranger" wasn't the right word. She knew this man's face from somewhere.
The people on the train at this point were mostly regulars. They were always on the train at this time. She had never once spotted this man so far into the train journey; or in fact, ever on the train. No one lived in this empty little neighbourhood, so the train was always dead. But she liked it that way, calm and peaceful. She hated travelling into the city, being wary of the compact trains, and not to mention train perverts. However, at this point she usually felt safe, being able to recognise everyone on board.
There was the little obaa-chan that owned the convenience store a few streets away from where she lived, smiling happily and very toothily. Across the car was the official looking man, who never looked official as he always fell asleep on his journey home, and thus it was no surprise to catch the sheen of drool pooling out of his mouth. And finally the woman who worked in a restaurant. Sakura knew this because she could always smell some form of gorgeous food's scent radiating off of her. Sakura looked back at the attractive and mysterious "stranger" - his eyes were still on her.
He was definitely attractive; yes, she had decided. But she knew better than to fall for a man's looks. He probably had women kissing the earth beneath his feet. And he was probably one of those men who liked women for quick and easy sex, then he'd get bored and move on.
In fact, he was probably this far into the journey because he thought he could pull tonight. But no – she wasn't that easy. Based on what little previous experience and major heartbreak the pinkette had, she accepted that her skewed view of romance could be the only correct one. She decided this irrationally and threw him a glare that she had been using to ward off people the whole journey.
It was closing in on her stop and she stood up. As she did, he did also. She sent him a scowl and he replied with a confused stare. As she threw her book bag over her shoulder and made a move to exit, he followed her out.
Swiftly, she climbed the stairs towards the street. It was late; she could tell by the stuffy night air. She was sure it was at least 8 o'clock. As she whipped out her cell phone, it confirmed her suspicions. The digital clock read "8.03".
She reached one of the first quiet streets when she heard two sets of footsteps, including her own, and listened intently until she heard the graceful pitter-patter of feet behind her. After seeing a tall shadow with a tail of flowing hair, she promptly turned on her heel.
She met the man's face with a scowl. An awkward silence elapsed before he spoke out after a few moments of dense atmosphere.
"Yes?"
She faltered a little. His voice slid over her, innately smooth, but monotone. She wasn't expecting him to address her first.
The wind tasselled her short hair; she tucked a piece behind her ear, anticipating to be knocked out with a whiff of his cologne. Instead, she was met by a fresh green tea scent. He smelt clean.
"Are you following me?" she caught, for a second, a look of surprise on his face, before he let out a little chuckle.
The tone of it was something she could not comprehend. It was either a friendly chuckle, after which he would say something like, "You dropped your handkerchief," and she would gracefully accept, having felt bad after at his accusation. He would have written his number on it and she would find him. They would meet up and fall in love.
Or,it might have been a chuckle at her realisation, where he would say something like, "You got me," before he would push her to the ground and have his way with her there and then.
"I live around here," he said simply, as he swung his keys coolly around his finger. Fortunately – or unfortunately – none of her deluded thoughts becoming a reality
The jingling noise-makers had seemingly appeared out of thin air. She studied the keys as they fell limply around his finger when he stopping spinning them. She duly noted a purple set.
She had known his face from somewhere! But there was something else; another way she knew his face that was almost as plain as day that she couldn't seem to land her finger on.
"You live in my apartment complex." She replied, not apologising for her former statement. She fished around in her pocket until she produced her keys, holding them out in her palm, as if for inspection. He took a quick glance at them.
"Yes." He stated flatly. There was another moment of awkward silence before she turned again and began walking.
"Forgive me for my accusation," she said, stopping to bow her head in shame before continuing to walk.
"I take no offence." He replied. "You study at the University of Konoha?" He questioned.
"Yeah. How do you know?"
"I saw the badge on your bag."
She snorted at his statement. What an odd observation. "What about you?" She could only assume that he had some affiliation with the University if he knew the crest.
"I am doing a postgraduate degree."
Sakura raised an eyebrow and nodded at his reply – impressive. She interjected with her own information.
"I'm first year."
"Then perhaps you would know my younger brother?" She sent him a questioning glance before he continued. "Uchiha Sasuke?"
She froze.
At this moment she realised several important things.
This angelic man she had been having banter with was Itachi Uchiha. The God of all Gods. It had hit her in the face like a tonne of bricks. She was an idiot! But it had been so long since she had went to Sasuke's house with Naruto. And she barely ever saw Itachi when she was there. He was always locked up in his room.
Nervously, and in slight shock, she spilled out her incriminating information.
"Yes..." She cleared her throat, hesitating. "We've been friends since Kindergarten..."
"Well, you definitely are not Naruto-kun." He replied, surveying her. She gave him a nervous smile. If he had known about everything and guessed her name correctly, she had just lost all her social credibility. Itachi Uchiha being reminded of her obsessive Sasuke years? She wanted to sink into the ground. He seemed to slightly squint at her.
"Haruno-san." He stated this more than asking her if that was indeed her name.
"Yes," she nodded politely before continuing. "I barely even recognise you, Uchiha-san." But that was a lie – Itachi looked the same as always the brief few times she had spoken to or seen him. Perhaps even more attractive, if that was possible for an Uchiha.
Honestly, she could only hope that he would notice a difference in her: taller, if even minimally, not so skinny and a less childish looking haircut.
"Same to you." He replied.
They were reaching the apartment complex, and she was starkly reminded of the fact she had not eaten in almost eight hours by the rumbling of her stomach. Hopefully he hadn't heard. She touched her stomach and cringed. Remembering that there was some mouth-watering dango mitarashi in her fridge, she thanked herself for having prepared it earlier. He held the door open for her as she nodded politely before stepping in. Itachi was definitely far better mannered than Sasuke had ever been.
They tumbled into the small elevator, making polite banter before stepping out.
"Have you eaten?" Sakura asked, turning to Itachi.
"No, I haven't." He replied. She smiled as she unlocked her door, muttering for him to wait in her hallway as she removed her shoes at her genkan.
She returned several moments later with a plate of dango.
"You can eat with me or at your apartment. I don't mind fetching another plate for anyone else? It's only me and there is a lot, a lot of Dango here." She smiled.
"I would prefer to eat with company; there is no one waiting for me." He spoke softly.
"Come in, then." She snorted, walking down the hall and into her kitchen, which connected to the living room. She decided that his almost formal politeness may have been strange for anyone else, but for some reason, it just seemed like him. If he had have spoken in any other way, it just wouldn't have been right. Not only as a personality quirk, but because of the actual physical voice he possessed. Had he spoken in his deep, and mostly monotone voice in any other way, it could have given him a completely different feel all together. Any more formal and he may have sounded creepy, any less, and he may have just sounded downright sexy all of the time - which would have been definitely odd. This little idiosyrancity, she embraced about him.
Sakura hurriedly began putting discarded glasses into the sink, worrying about the mess. Beside the general kitchen area was a small table surrounded by four chairs, which she gestured at him to sit. Scanning the room, she duly noted that the TV, which sat opposite her coffee table and sofa, was in serious need of a dusting. However, her pride and joy were her two large bookcases that sandwiched the TV, containing all sorts of amazing books which she wouldn't be afraid of someone seeing. She thanked herself for closing her bedroom door before she left, as she might've been quite embarrassed if he peaked in and saw the mess inside. The opposite door, the bathroom door, she had left lazily opened, but she figured it was fine if he saw that - what if he even needed to use the bathroom? She almost sighed out loud at her slight disappointment in herself. It's not like she was expecting company, and so she hadn't cleaned the place to her exact standards… how embarrassing.
He managed to find a seat at the table, after what Sakura could only call… hesitation? Was she imagining it?
She set the plate of Dango onto the table along with another from the fridge. She began to brew some tea, allowing the tea bags to plop ungracefully into the boiling water, and shovelled a few handfuls of rice into her old rice cooker. She turned to him with a disapproving look.
"I know you were brought up proper and all that, so I won't deem it socially unacceptable if you eat before I take my seat." She mocked, returning to the tea and pouring two cups. She decided on green tea, after his scent. She brought the two steaming cups to the table, placing them on coasters.
He called out a polite "Itadakimasu", before tearing into a stick of previously prepared Dango. Sakura couldn't quite work out the look of slight surprise on his face.
"Did you make this?" He said after swallowing his first bite.
"Why, is it bad?" She said with an apologetic look adorning her features.
"Quite the opposite, actually." He uttered.
"Well, I'm glad you like it." She laughed slightly sheepishly.
He looked as if he pressed some thought while swallowing the second dango ball mitarashi sauce.
"You're quick to invite people in." He told her, one eyebrow raised.
"Are you saying that I shouldn't?" She quirked a pink eyebrow at him. "Besides, it's not like you're a stranger. You're Sasuke's older brother. We're already acquaintances." He smirked at her statement. Sakura could only wonder if he noticed that she'd dropped the obgitory "kun" at the end of his younger brother's name.
Yawning widely, she covered her hand with her mouth and smiled slightly shyly at being caught so open.
"Are you tired?", he asked, clearly in response.
"I was working, so I'm pretty tired."
"What do you do?" He asked, his expression blank. She faltered as she fluttered her eyes at the stinging sensation that came from forgetting to blink
"Kinda like homecare, helping the elderly and that – just part time though. Can't you tell? Old sneakers, looking like an ugly nurse?" She giggled slightly.
"How do you think I pay for this place?" She added sarcastically, motioning to her small apartment. He nodded with a hum.
"You're lucky," she continued. "Your dad practically owns the police force and the most successful healthcare in all of Japan, if not the world. I guess you don't have to worry about rent, huh?"
"I have a job to pay for my apartment."
She blushed slightly at his reprimand. "Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to be... uhh – prejudiced..." She mumbled before biting her bottom lip with nervous glee.
"I took no offense." He smiled, and her heart fluttered slightly with a slight schoolgirl feel. She could definitely bask in that gaze.
"Oh, the rice." She reacted as she heard the gentle beep of her rice cooker. She stood up and proceeded to serve the both of them. "Would you like some more dango,also?" She asked, gesturing to the four sticks left on the plate she had been eating off. He moved his now empty plate over to her and she placed three sticks of Dango onto it. He glanced down at it before picking up the third stick before placing it back onto her plate. She gave him a cheeky grin before biting into the extra stick.
"So where do you work?" she asked, still chewing on the stick of dango, her mouth full. It should have looked like bad table manners that she would speak with food in her mouth, but it looked almost cute, in a childish kind of way.
"I'm a waiter." He replied.
She had a feeling that it was some prestigious restaurant with quite a name for itself. She decided not to press the matter and instead catch him going out to work in his uniform and check out the crest of an expensive restaurant that would be emblazoned onto it. Everyone knew for a fact that if anyone came to a job interview and mentioned their name was Uchiha, they would have been given the position without hesitation. Let alone mention that your name was Itachi Uchiha. Son of the owner of the most powerful companies in all of Japan.
Being the sole successor of a long line of Uchihas that had founded the Police Force in early Edo Japan, his father had to have been the most powerful man in the country. And it's not like his father's links to the Yakuza weren't infamous or unknown. She wouldn't be surprised if he was the Oyabun's boss. But no one dared speak of it.
"I'm guessing you're studying Psychology?" She questioned, moving from the awkward air of speaking about their jobs. He chuckled.
"Literature. Although that was my undergraduate." She nodded in understanding, before he continued, "Am I too logical, Haruno-san?"
She cackled at that, probably realising that coming from anyone else it almost would have sounded flirty. However from him, he almost seemed oblivious, as if he was strongly turning over the possibility that he was too logical in his mind.
"No, I'd say it's nice. You're an intellectual, Uchiha-san. It's refreshing to see, I suppose. I mean, half the guys on campus think that having big arms makes them the shit. Although I can't say that my friends would say the same…" She began confidently, but then began to start pausing and muttering. She mentally slapped herself for her silly muttering and awkward half-compliments. She took in his presentation, noting that he had a short sleeved dress shirt on. It looked a lot a plain old one, if it weren't for what she could have mistaken to be the Uchiha crest on the right corner of the front.
But that wasn't what caught her eye. Nor was it the dark dress trousers he decided to wear. No, it was the fact that his top did not show off brawn, although it was clear he took care of his body (or perhaps all Uchiha's were just that blessed). It didn't show off what most of the men in her collage did; the unattractive mountains that they all flashed. His arms were defined as if he partook in some form of Martial Art. His shoulders were not bulky, but were lean.
His choice of clothing was very plain, like her own.
"I agree. I've noticed that," He sighed, closing his eyes. She couldn't help but giggle at his honesty.
"What are you studying?"
"Medicine. The only reason I'm in the shitty homecare job…" She shrugged her shoulders and sighed.
"Do you enjoy medicine, though?"
"Yeah, I really love it, actually." She nodded lightly.
"Well, then, I'm sure it will be worth it."
"You're not like your brother, you know." She spoke softly, looking down at her nails glistening in the light. He looked up from his food, and she noticed he looked slightly taken aback.
"I never implied that I was." He sighed.
"You... it's just weird. It's hard to believe you're brothers, you know? I mean, he looks like you and all, but..." She replied, looking up from her nails. She was almost embarrassed to be talking about Sasuke. Not because she liked him, but because Itachi only used to know her obsessive, immature, fan-girl self that was no longer there.
"I don't particularly see much resemblance. All Uchihas, I suppose, look alike." She nodded at his statement. She remembered attending one of Sasuke's birthdays, of which a lot of other Uchiha attended. It was a sea of onyx eyes and raven black hair. They were all generally attractive. It was also the day she had her first conversation with the man that sat before her now. She snickered under her breath at how jealous Ino had been at Sakura's invite.
"He's also… Sasuke's arrogant." She spoke quickly. His small chuckle made her realise she had said it out loud. She cupped her hand over her mouth at her rude attitude. "I'm so sorry! It slipped out..." She blurted, running the hand that had been cupping her mouth down the side of her face until it landed on the table top.
"I know." His words shocked her. But she supposed that Itachi had lived with him, he would know him better than anyone.
Sasuke had always been like that; arrogant and so full of himself. So sure that everyone would bend to his will. There was a thin line between cocky and confident. He was nowhere on this scale. He had passed it decades ago. He was the top line that was called "douche", reserved just for him and all the other tormentors of her life. And he smiled his little smirk even standing on that line.
Granted, she might have once fuelled his high and mighty attitude, but she had wised up to herself. But he still had his little fan-girls that liked to keep that stick wedged nice and tightly between his buttocks.
She glanced up at the clock in her living area and it read 9:52. They had been sitting talking for over an hour. She then glanced down to their empty plates and tea cups.
"I don't mean to kick you out, but I need to take a shower and I have a pretty important test in like a week..." She said awkwardly, scratching the back of her head with an even more awkward lop-sided grin plastered onto her face.
"Not at all. I hadn't realised the time," quirking an eyebrow as he stood and picked up his cup and plate, he continued. "Shall I let myself out?"
"Sure. And let me deal with those." She smiled, pushing the items in his hands down onto the table.
"Thank you for the dango. It was excellent.
"Goodnight, Haruno-san."
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the other franchises, etc., mentioned.
A/N:: If you're coming back to reread this you may notice that it's a bit different – you would be correct. I just edited it and took out some cringy bits or anything I thought was ooc. And when I say I some bit I mean a fucktonne. Like I revised the whole thing over and that's why all of the other chapters are gone. If you haven't read this in years, then I suggest doing so because it's going to be a much different fic from here on out.
In canon I'm pretty sure there's a 5 or 6 year gap between the two, and so in order for them to realistically be in uni together, it had to be Itachi's second degree.
Also for anyone who cares, I recently I got a Naruto Tattoo (my first ever ink!). I'm a massive weeb thanks for tuning in.
Anyway, thank you for reading!
Reviews keep me writing :)
–xl3utterflyx