September:
Sakura waved to Ino and joined her on the patio at Shinobi, relieved it wasn't too busy yet. Her classes had ended for the week after Communications, and she had texted Ino and asked to meet her at Shinobi, a student pub just off campus. As she had only spoken to her an hour prior insisting that no, she couldn't make it out that night, she was pretty sure Ino would be all over her the moment she set foot on the patio.
She wasn't disappointed.
"So, what did you just need to talk to me about? Because I actually approve of that blouse with that skirt, since I was with you when you bought them, so I know you aren't having a fashion crisis." Ino shook her hair out over her shoulder as she leaned back on the lounge chair under the cheerful umbrella. The wind blew gently and brought with it a refreshing breeze off the mister, and Sakura barely quelled the urge to arch her brow as it beaded on Ino's skin. Obviously, Ino was already familiar with the patio and had chosen the optimal cooling zone to establish her fine self in. To be ogled and revered.
Sakura ignored the other students eyeing both her and Ino and dropped her bag onto the free seat beside her.
"Let's try and not broadcast this conversation," said Sakura, glancing around casually and making eye contact with a t-shirted waitress with a half-apron tied around her hips. Sakura smiled and the waitress returned it with a wave. Sakura pointed to what Ino was drinking, and the waitress nodded.
Meanwhile, Ino's smile widened as she scented blood.
"Oh, this will be good. Okay, spill spill spill," said Ino, picking up her beer and gesturing at Sakura.
Swallowing a sigh, Sakura leaned forward and rested her elbows on their circular table. "What do you know about TAs and RAs and class assignments—as in, being assigned to certain professors?"
"Not much; I would have thought you would have known stuff like that. We can find out, though," said Ino, shoulders slumping. "Did you seriously emergency-text me for that?"
"Thanks," said Sakura to the waitress who set her beer down in front of her. Sakura tipped her and took a large swallow, hoping to overcome her dry throat. "Not exactly… more like… someone we both know is my TA in Communications. And… I am just questioning whether he was assigned to be a TA in that class, or whether he asked to be a TA in that class."
Ino gaped at her. Then slammed her cup onto the table, beer sloshing over the side.
"Are you kidding me? Itachi's your sweet-ass fucking TA?!" Ino swore, and a few of the nearby men winced at its creativity. "I totally chose the wrong classes! Wait, gimme the class ID number, maybe I can still transfer in. It's still the first week," said Ino, scrambling to whip out her phone and sign in to the university's student portal. "Come on, come on," she muttered, "load—the Hell, why did my signal just drop! Are you blocking me, you selfish bitch?"
"Thank you for availing yourself of my personal crisis for your own personal gain," said Sakura, glaring at Ino. "And I thought you weren't a fan of Itachi."
"Answer the question!" Ino's tone turned militant. "Also, regardless of how I feel about him personally, I can admit that he is a fine specimen of a man to look at. Now, stop femme-cock-blocking me from your class."
"No."
"Screw you. Ah, oh hey, I have bars again, sweet!" cheered Ino, glancing up at Sakura to show her her phone's screen. "Okay, so I can totally pick up Intro to Anthro next term by online course, so that's being dropped like it's hot. What was the course code again?"
Sakura's brow lowered and she blew out hard through her nose.
Well, if Ino wasn't taking it as a serious issue, perhaps she was making more of it than it really was. And, okay, maybe it was a good thing Ino wasn't going crazy, all-out super-spy over Itachi anymore. Whatever had changed, Sakura would accept it. For now.
"Gimme a second and let me pull up the course calendar…" Sakura muttered, pulling out her own phone. Hell, taking another course with Ino would be fun, as long as they kept their gossip to a minimum.
Blowing her bangs out of her eyes, Sakura squinted at her screen. "You want to check under the Faculty of Arts, C-O-M-M area for Communications, Fall Term, First Year…"
Later that afternoon, as Itachi pinned his office hours schedule to the corkboard outside his office, he nearly swallowed his tongue when Kisame snuck up behind him and walloped him on his back.
"Congratulations! You're officially eye candy for a new year of frosh!" The big man grinned down at him with a chuckle.
Itachi shook his head at Kisame and the two entered Itachi's office and settled in the two uncomfortably functional wood and metal seats in front of Itachi's tidy desk. "Jealous you were always out of the running?"
Kisame tapped his chest above his heart. "Careful, you risk hurting my feelings and I only have one left."
"Yes, the one your wife controls and uses to get you to do her bidding," smirked Itachi, relaxing into his seat and propping up his leg on an immaculate, tastefully designed ergonomic stool. It was spotless and half-hidden behind Itachi's desk, sturdy and light, just within easy reach of his feet.
Kisame nodded down at it. It hadn't been there at the end of the previous term, which meant...
"Still sore?"
Itachi shook his head. "Just need to rest it once in a while. Weaning myself off the cane."
Their eyes met for a moment, and Kisame's eyes narrowed. "Is that wise? You don't need to rush."
If Itachi had been a more physically expressive person, he would have shrugged. As it was, he spared a glance at the open door, and Kisame took his cue and closed it.
"No sense being dependent on it," said Itachi, resting his hands on the arms of his chair and leaning back.
Kisame took in Itachi's dark eyes, and the dark circles beneath his eyes. "How's your Tylenol 3 stock?" asked Kisame bluntly.
Itachi stared back, folding his hands in his lap, his elbows hanging over the arms of the chair.
Kisame sighed. "So, should I assume I'll be running the practices for the club for the next few weeks?"
"At least the sparring practices. I can help with organization and orientation, but I'm not to overexert myself for another few weeks," said Itachi.
The tendons in his neck stood out for a moment, and Kisame noted that Itachi had lost weight.
He sighed. "You can ask for help, you know, kid."
Itachi shook his head, lifting a hand. "Unnecessary. I will be fine."
"Will be doesn't mean am," said Kisame as he stretched his long, muscular legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. "Christ, you were shot and stabbed, Itachi. And not in the arm or hand, but in the leg. Which holds up your bodyweight, which you walk on, and which needs to be elevated and rested while it heals."
"The skin has healed."
Kisame snorted. "Yeah, but I bet your muscles are still knitting together underneath. Face it, kid, you need to slow down for a bit, physically. Let me get a few people in to help with the club, at least. Come to practice, correct their forms, but Deidara and Sasori, maybe even Pein and Konan, can rotate in for demonstrations and sparring. You've saved their asses at their nightclub often enough, they owe you," said Kisame, before he smirked. "Perhaps we should get you a private nurse, to make sure you're taking it real easy—"
Itachi's glare turned glacial, but Kisame just laughed loud and hard. "Sponge baths not your thing?"
Itachi tensed and fidgeted in his seat, and Kisame's grin turned feral, his brows rising.
"What?" he asked, his lips peeling back from his teeth, his smile widening by the minute.
"At the hospital… they wouldn't stop. I think I was the cleanest man on the ward," said Itachi, and to Kisame's amusement Itachi shuddered like a fairytale damsel. "I'll never suffer the sight of a sponge again."
Kisame's head was thrown back as he roared with laughter.
"Mother chased them off when they brought in the interns after the hourly baths started," muttered Itachi, his shoulders pulling in. "It was…"
"Not as glamourous as the movies make it out to be?"
"Not the movies you watch, obviously," muttered Itachi, brow arched. "I went home to recover, and a relative came in to check on me at my apartment."
Kisame remembered who else had come to tend Itachi, but held his counsel.
"And now?"
"Obviously I can bathe myself. I'm not an invalid."
Kisame switched his legs and rested his large hands over his taut belly. While he no longer served in the special forces, he did not neglect his health. He had been in Itachi's position, and still bore the scars to prove it. "How are you feeling? This is your first week back in the saddle." His gaze passed over the smudges that lined Itachi's eyes once more; the way the younger man's collarbones stood out prominently, his necklace bringing more attention to them. "You sure you didn't take too much on, this time?" His voice was quieter, more patient this time, that of a mentor and friend, not colleague. "The martial arts club, your PhD, the classes you're taking, the classes you're teaching and TA'ing, the papers you're authoring, the thesis you're writing," Kisame went on, then paused, considering his words carefully. "The circumstances outside your professional life," he added, watching Itachi.
But Itachi remained silent, and that silence festered and grew between the two men.
"I'm not asking as your boss, Itachi," said Kisame when Itachi's face hardened to stone. "I'm…" Kisame let out a huff and pulled his legs back up, wringing his hands, bending his legs at the knee, as he gruffly said, "I'm worried about you, kid."
The tension held, the men holding each others' eyes. In his lap, Kisame's gnarled hands twisted and knotted together before he separated them and they shifted to the armrests of his chair. After another minute or so Kisame's face fell and he turned to look at his feet.
When Itachi gave no sign of capitulating, Kisame shook his gray-streaked head before he leaned forward to get up.
Then Itachi let out a huff and his shoulders relaxed.
The corner of his mouth smoothed and quirked up, but so quickly Kisame nearly missed it when he blinked.
"Konan and Pein, then Sasori and Deidara; alternating? At the MA club?" Itachi said, nodding slowly. "I'll still come out for Saturday morning practice, but… maybe I could take some time to focus on my readings, instead of leading practice during the weeknights. Go home a bit earlier. Just until the doctors clear me."
Kisame's grin softened and he nodded once. "Want me to call the crew?"
"You haven't already?"
Kisame's eyes shone as he chuckled. "I was only being polite."
"Please stop. It doesn't suit you."
Kisame laughed.
Dingy, graffiti-ridden concrete whipped past the windows of the high speed interurban train before snapping into blinding glass and steel skyscrapers in a dramatic shift that continued to mentally jolt Sasuke even a month after living in Oto.
His suite in the company housing district was in the suburbs, the end unit in a three-storey tall spacious brick townhouse. Or, it was for now.
"As you advance through your training, you'll find your efforts are reciprocated and or rewarded, based on their business impact," his host had explained as they had toured Sasuke's living quarters. "Your laundry facilities are located here, just off the entrance to the bathroom. Your living room-den, your eat-in kitchen, and your office are down this hallway. We weren't sure of your colour palette, so everything was returned to eggshell white with chrome accents. We do have a decorator on our hospitality staff, if you require any assistance or advice. On the next floor up," he said, ascending the stairs, "you will find the master bedroom with ensuite bathroom, the guest room, and another bathroom. The uppermost floor is accessible via this pull-down staircase; it is a fully finished attic, air-conditioned and heated, and open to you to do with as you see fit. The finished basement is also open-concept and fully insulated. Let me show you back to the main entrance; from there you can set your programmable thermostat and new access codes to the security system…"
Sasuke had followed, as aloof as he could manage after his flight and the emotional upheaval he'd endured at his airport send-off.
"If you have any questions, you can reach the campus—as in, company housing complex—security team via your intercom, here," said the man showing him around as they stopped by the front door. "You have another of these screens up in your bedroom, and another in the kitchen. They will show you who is at your door, and you can release the locks from here, too, if you want to invite them in."
"Who else has access to this place?" Sasuke eyed the screen. The camera outside his front door was carefully hidden in the doorbell, but he'd noticed it. With all the other tech upgrades around a supposedly entry level employee's dwelling, he had to wonder.
"The chief of our security team, only; unless you contact us asking for emergency assistance, in which case it would be the first company-security responder to the scene. You need to ask for help or assistance before a regular security officer's key-card would give them access. Your privacy is assured, Mr Uchiha."
"Hnn." Sasuke looked over the access panel again, memorizing its features. "Anything else I should know?"
"Ah! Almost forgot!" The man half-turned and reached into his black knapsack. "Your access key cards are on your kitchen counter, and we left a few essentials in your bathrooms and kitchen, but here we go: this is your company phone. We ask that all company-related business be handled on this handset. Your superiors' numbers are already programmed in; all calls are recorded and may be periodically reviewed, as part of your probation. You are welcome to make personal calls as well, just be sure to say the word 'personal' at the beginning of the call so our tracking system can discard them from your performance evaluations. In this case you'll find the manual for the phone, your phone number, and its temporary PIN. You're welcome to change the PIN at any time. The company handles backing up your phone's contents on a regular basis, so if anything happens to the phone, just let us know so we can get you a replacement ASAP. You can also control your new home's entry—and view the visitor screen —via the onscreen commands. So if you need to let a guest in and you're at the office, you can 'buzz' them through, so to speak."
Sasuke nodded and accepted the phone and its packaging from him, nodding his head back towards the kitchen. "My security pass to the office?"
"And ID are all included in your master card; that way you only need one card that is keyed to all the areas you need: home, office, and anything else we'll key in for you in the future."
"So you'll be tracking my movements, too, to see where I go?"
The man paused with his hand on the doorknob, turning to look at Sasuke again, a polite smile on his face. "We're placing a lot of trust in you, and expecting great things from you, Mr Uchiha."
"You are very generous," said Sasuke, his voice level.
The man opened the door again, letting in the scent of freshly mown grass and the occasional passing car. "Great things," he repeated.
Sasuke nodded once in understanding before closing the door and immediately changing the security code.
It didn't escape his notice that for all the neatly trimmed hedges, sculpted trees and swept driveways, there was not a single children's toy or bicycle in the vicinity, or the sound of any other sign of life in the complex.
That tour had taken place almost a month ago, and Sasuke had found another hidden camera or two each week since.
Not that he intended to invite over any guests from rival companies or industries, but whom he invited into his home deserved their own privacy, too.
Green eyes hardened in anger and pain flashed through his mind, and he swallowed. He had done the right thing; he knew he had. It was just taking a bit longer to accept than he had expected. Sakura had been conflicted; he had been conflicted; his brother had been…
What?
Not for the first time, Sasuke felt his chest and back tensing, his hands curling together before he caught the sensation and stopped it, letting out a low breath.
How long had Sasuke admired his older brother? And for Itachi to turn around, go behind his brother's back and prey on Sakura; a girl who was practically a little sister to him? Who was Sasuke's one true love?
Sasuke stifled a cough and swallowed, looking at his shoes a moment before glaring out the train's wide, trapezoidal window.
He needed to stop thinking about this; today of all days, his first of many (hopefully) one-on-one 'chats' (read: performance evaluations) needed to go smoothly. He needed to be focused, driven, and above all, competent. His (company) notebook under his arm, his charcoal suit pressed and fitted, he checked his appearance one last time in the window before he met the eyes of a young woman from behind him, in the reflection.
Surprised and wary of how long he'd been under surveillance, Sasuke stared back at her, until she passed him. The train slowed, announcing its stop. Now alongside him, the tall, pale young woman smiled widely at him as she hopped off in front of him.
"Relax, you'll do great," she said with a wink before disappearing through the throngs of passengers.
For just a moment Sasuke allowed himself to imagine another young woman's voice saying the same thing to him.
He stomped off the train in a huff, dismissing the idle fantasy.
He had work to do.
To be continued.
AN: Prologue. Posted at reader request. The rest of the story is still under construction (and closing in on 200+ pages). Many, many thanks to pokesimmo for her beta help! I aim to update monthly.
AN: Disclaimer: "Naruto" is copyright its creator and respective rights holders.
Please also keep in mind that leaving comments (whether positive or negative) is good manners and a show of respect for the author's efforts. ;)