...
... Meeting you was fate,
becoming your friend was a choice,
but falling in love with you I had no control over.
...
Uchiha Sasuke was a man of hair-thin patience. He preferred direct onslaught of facts rather than beating around the bush. Everything had to be brisk; a pace that would make a turtle proud did not exist in his world. 'On the dot' was a saying that the Uchiha did not take as a walk in the park; waiting was one of the things that snaps the thin patience he possessed.
But there was one exception to this.
Sasuke closed his eyes, listening to the light, rhythmic tapping of bamboo against smooth stone and the gentle splashing of water that was in sync to the rhythm. The afternoon sun was just hot enough that it was not smoldering, but rather comforting to the skin.
He breathed in, taking in the scent of drying moss as the sunlight blistered over it. There was the small tap of earthenware against wood, and he blinked his eyes open, focusing his eyes lazily ahead.
"Ah, Sasuke-chan, your tea is getting cold," observed a brittle voice.
Sasuke wrapped his fingers around the smooth surface of the tea cup in response, letting only the tips press around it. He finished the tea with one gulp, wishing that the time would pass away just like that. Setting down the cup and wiping the rim where his lips had touched it, he proceeded to gently slide the cloth across the rim to occupy time.
It was not like he hated the presence of his grandmother, it was the time that he spent sitting and doing nothing that he loathed. He was not as patient as her, as he prefer doing something much more productive than conversing over a cup of tea. After all, his paperwork would not scribble his signature on themselves.
Even though he was forced to squeeze some bonding time —as his mother would tell him— to his already un-squeezable schedule, he much favour the smile that crinkled his grandmother's eyes whenever he came for his short visits. Whereas he could have been on a table, planning strategic marketing with his colleagues, he must admit that his annoyance towards delay of productivity business-wise was not whole.
He was just relieved that his grandmother would always do all the talking, and all he had to do was slip in a few nods and monosyllabic replies to feign interest. His social speech bubble was as empty as a desert, and only when he was in business mode would his span of vocabulary knowledge expand.
His grandmother reached for the tea kettle, her dark blue kimono —embroidered with a pond and a stork, each elements' edges stitched with golden threads— hitching upwards with the action, and filled his cup once more.
"Now," she started, settling down on her seat beside the low table, "how old are you again?"
Sasuke almost raised an eyebrow at the obviously out of subject question. He was pretty sure that was not related to whatever it was she was talking about before. He became suspicious of where this was heading; in spite of his grandmother's petite and fragile appearance, she could always pull out something wack out of her gray-covered head.
"Twenty-two," he answered. He held the full tea cup again, taking a sip as he watched the gleam in his grandmother's dark eyes.
"Isn't that perfect?" —she folded her hands together against her chest in front of her, her lips stretched in a sweet smile— "I've always wanted a great-grandchild so much!"
The liquid in his throat lodged in his airway, and he snatched a napkin to hide the choke that came after it. The Uchiha matriarch was oblivious to his reaction, and he snagged the chance to compose himself before her attention was diverted to him again.
He knew that she had always dropped transpicuous hints towards the subject, but he had always ignored it as she never pressed on it further —it was something he was glad about. Even when his mother tackled the subject about her wishes to have grandchildren before she was too old to take care of them, he just rolled his eyes and reasoned that he was too busy to even involve himself with serious commitments. Not that he planned to, even if the case was different. Women just were not that interesting to him, especially if they like to glue themselves to him.
"Your birthday is in a month isn't it?" his grandmother asked, finally over her fantasies of tiny, Sasuke look-alikes.
Cautiously, he nodded subtly, wondering what kind of plan the gears in the older Uchiha's head were creating. If there was one thing he knew the best about his grandmother, it was that whatever she wanted, she would always get. And this in particular, he was willing to postpone until he turned fifty.
"Excellent! Enough time to prepare for revelries," she exclaimed, clapping her hands lightly together.
"Revelries?" he asked, wondering at his grandmother's choice of words. He knew her enough to expect that she would stick to more traditional celebrations, something more peaceful and leaning more to formals and not drinking, dancing and noise.
"Oh, I thought you'd like it more that way. Don't you youths prefer more feral ways of celebrating?" she confirmed, staring at him with big, curious eyes.
Sasuke sighed, rubbing his left temple gently to prevent an upcoming headache.
Just great, his grandmother was planning to invite his very rare, very countable friends. Probably some of his acquaintances too, and business-related people. And if she was up to it, she would invite all the people who work on their company, and that was saying something.
Had not she learned that as far as he was concerned, he liked to keep this kind of events exclusive to only his family and him?
His grandmother sipped her share of tea, sighing at the rich flavour that left her tongue tingling. She turned back to Sasuke with a knowing smile on her face. "Surely, you have lots of female associates you can introduce to me?"
Even though she was still, Sasuke could sharply visualize her wriggling her eyebrows and with a suggestive grin on her thin lips. Of course, his grandmother would not pass on such a great opportunity to pick his wife-to-be herself. And considering her, it would only be a matter of time before she and his mother would plan the wedding themselves and earn themselves a minute Sasuke clone once she picked the next Mrs. Uchiha Sasuke.
There was a moment of pause, and then Sasuke replied, "None, actually."
And that was the truth. Every female he interacted with was strictly business only and none of them had wandered farther than that. He was not planning on tying the knots with someone who would drool and swoon over him for the rest of his life.
It was also better to disappoint his grandmother before she could actually follow up with her plans.
"Don't you lie to me Sasuke-chan. I'm sure your features hasn't failed you," was her riposte.
He simply shrugged, and she gave a dramatic gasp. He was not sure of how she had taken his non-verbal response, and so he risked a glance at her direction. Her eyes were closed, and she had her long, bony fingers clutching the collar of her intricate kimono in what he assumed was an overly-dramatic pose.
"Sasuke-chan, why must you deny your dying grandmother her final wishes?"
Her trump card. He should have seen that one coming. She had bestowed him her specialty a few times, and always he had fallen for it. Mainly because his mother was present, and second because he did not like seeing the wrinkles on her face fold over each other whenever something did not please her. It made her look a lot more older, more frail... closer to dying.
His shoulders slumped just a little, and he sighed in defeat. His grandmother looked at his change of composure eagerly, already very sure she had won again.
Grumbling lowly, Sasuke made a condition. "As long as I get to look over the guests list."
He was not even halfway through of what he was saying, and his grandmother had already dashed towards the main mansion, calling his mother to start the preparations.
ღ
"Huh?"
Sasuke gritted his teeth, turning sharply on a corner. "I do not like to repeat myself, idiot."
Loud slurping echoed inside his car, and he rolled his eyes. Typical of Naruto to concentrate on inhaling his beloved ramen rather than focus on the conversation.
"So Granny's hosting a birthday party for you?" Naruto asked, through what Sasuke could surely confirm as a mouthful of un-chewed noodles.
"Yes."
Sasuke heard more chewing on the other side of the conversation. He could give the blonde some credit, Naruto could eat and talk on a phone at the same time without breaking a sweat.
"And the guest list was—"
"Thicker than your brain," Sasuke cut off.
"...Wow, that is something."
Sasuke smirked, slowing down as the road rose higher and narrower. There was a brief silence on Naruto's side. And then—
"H-hey! You bastard, whaddya mean by that?!" Naruto slurred, chocking a little on his soup.
"Hn. Grandma said invitations will arrive in a week," Sasuke reminded, entirely ignoring Naruto's demanding question.
He should not have been surprise at how fast his grandmother had set everything up, especially since she was so determined about it. In just a week's time almost everything was done, with only the invitations to be sent. His grandmother had not failed with filling him up with the developments of the preparations, always calling him everyday for updates. She was always so ecstatic whenever she called him.
When he had gone through the guests list, he tried his best to cross out all the unnecessary female guests. Especially those he knew would tail him all night in an attempt to catch his attention. Some of them who belong to prominent families he was not able to cross out, as he saw this as a chance to strengthen his alliance with their influential fathers.
"Ha, good luck with the headache. Hope you survive it," Naruto ragged, snickering.
"Hn."
He heard Naruto obnoxiously slurp another mouthful of his ramen. "By the way," he started, chewing loudly again, "would you mind if I bring someone along with me?"
Sasuke's eyebrows pulled together. "Who?"
"Oh you know her," Naruto assured him.
Female.
"Who?" Sasuke insisted, the question sounding more strained this time.
He was only half successful at eliminating his extremely annoying female guests, and if Naruto brought someone who would stare at him dreamily for the rest of the night, he would strangle the blonde to death.
He tried to remember any of Naruto's female friends that he knew. There were not much who he was really close to, except—
"Remember Sakura-chan?" Naruto reminded him, slurping loudly.
Naruto winced, holding the phone away from him on a safe distance as loud shrieking of tires almost incapacitated his hearing abilities.
❧.play house