Summary: Sakura's the loan shark of your nightmares, Naruto's a therapist with a cult, and Sasuke is the snobbiest of snobs who lets them know it. But, inexplicably, they're still friends. Somehow. [Modern!AU] [Pointless Fluff-ish One-shot] [Team 7 Banter]
Disclaimer:
I don't own Naruto or the cover picture.
"You're late," he mutters uncaringly, face obscured behind the oversized menu, eyes behind sunglasses coolly roaming the scrawling lines of gold text.
"Unh," Sakura grunts, rolling her eyes and taking the seat on his left, thunking down her purse next to one of the triangle-table's legposts.
After a swig of water, she elaborates with more coherence and a lot more vehemence, "One of the boys refused to pay up. I had to send someone to dig up his history and tip off the IRS, which left me at a shortage for mooks to scare up some other payments. Then someone got cheeky on the way here so I punched them out. And I'm not late. You're just ridiculously early."
"Hn," is all Sasuke says at first.
He flips a page.
"... and that, Sakura, is why you should've used a limousine. No harassment, guaranteed."
"We plebeians can't all live like you, Your Highness," she sardonically sneers, a bit of hot, caustic resentment stirring from their past.
Sasuke lowers his glasses, the look of disbelief implied in his gaze.
"You could, actually, but for whatever reason you refuse to. Same as the dobe."
She slams her fancy-shmancy crystal glass down onto the red tablecloth.
"Did you hack into my bank accounts again?" hisses Sakura.
"I noticed you didn't ask if I'd hacked into the dobe's account," Sasuke neutrally notes.
A fond scoff, a wave of seafoam nails.
"That idiot would probably tell you upfront if you asked him. Way too trusting."
"Aa," he sighs, and-
"Yes, I did."
Before she can do something unfortunate and cause a scene in the very nice and expensive restaurant they're in, such as fling her cup of water at his very nice and expensive suit, he reminds her, "And I was also the one to wipe the footage of you punching a respectable businessman from the nearby store-cameras, thus saving you a police arrest for assault. You're welcome."
"Respectable my ass," she huffs darkly.
"Well, yours certainly isn't respectable," Sasuke agrees, turning another page.
"You-"
"Me!" another voice cuts in, cheerful and amiable and brighter than the $15,000 chandeliers sparkling smugly on the ceiling.
Naruto slides into the remaining chair and smiles winsomely at his unimpressed friends.
"So," he begins, propping up his chin with his hand, elbow leaning on the tabletop just to make proper-manners Sasuke flinch, "Why're you ready to punch out the broody emo-butt teme this time, Sakura-chan?"
He sobers up for a second, serious-faced.
"Do I need to be giving you two some more Talking Technique therapy?"
They both shudder, a full-body shiver.
"No," Sasuke denies outright, blunt and eyes narrowing. "I do not need to end up like the Hyuuga prat or the homicidal redhead or any other of your 'converted' cultists. I get enough of their promotional spam and religion promoters showing up on my doorstep already. I don't even have a doorstep, I mean, I hop around from hotel to hotel, and still they manage to find me. At this point I'm convinced I'm being stalked solely because I'm connected to your idiotic face."
A pause.
"So stop it, or I so swear that I will ban you from every ramen place under the control of Uchiha Industries. Which is a lot," he tags on, just to make his point.
Frowning, Naruto protests, "Hey, Neji and Gaara weren't that bad! Neji just had a superiority complex from unresolved childhood trauma that made his cousin develop an inferiority complex in return, and Gaara's schizophrenia and unresolved family conflict drove him to delusion and insomnia, which, all combined, made his impulse-control nonexistent and very inclined to permanently shut up the aggravators so he could just get some sleep."
A beat.
"Although," he concedes, "I am pretty sure that Neji's cousin has founded a cult based on me. It's apparently rather popular. She's also stalking me, I think. What was her name? Hinaki? Hitari? Hikari? Eh, whatever. Oh, and there've been these strange messages on my answering machine from this 'Hinata' person recently. She stutters a lot and then there's a 'thwump', like someone's head hitting a carpet. Weird, right?"
"... You almost sounded smart for an instance," Sakura marvels, incredibly impressed. "Then you just had to open your mouth again. Wow, Naruto. That- That takes skill. Wow."
Sasuke nods, eyebrows raised slightly.
Naruto pouts.
"You're all so meeeeeeeaaaaan to me. Almost as bad as jerkass bitchy Sai. He's totally gay, by the way. Maybe I should recommend therapy to your parents anyway," he declares, in a 'so there' sort of way.
"Time to order," Sasuke suddenly changes the subject brusquely, closing his menu and impatiently tapping his fingers onto the sturdy material, as if that would magically summon a waiter.
It does.
While Naruto gapes at the magically summoned waiter in awe, Sakura turns to 'the officially designated rich friend' and scowls.
"Only you got the menu," she accuses. "Is this another Uchiha Industries-owned place? Goddamnit, Sasuke, you always pick places like these when it's your turn to choose."
He smirks blandly.
"I do," he confirms, "And yet you always come to the places I pick, so I see nothing wrong with it."
Sakura ground her teeth very loudly, baring her filed canines.
"Next time I'm picking a place with only sweets," she settles for as a retort, smoothing back her rosy hair, pinned into a professional-looking bun.
"Hn," he sniffs.
"Sakura-chan! Your anger problem is really not good for your continuing health!" Naruto fusses, attention diverted from the blank-faced waiter standing silently like a part of the scenery.
"Her 'anger problem' made her millions, I highly doubt she'll decide to change," Sasuke mutters.
"Anyway," he adds in a firmer tone of voice, "It's time to order and we'd best get on with it. I came here to eat, and I intend to eat. They make a fantastic tomato salad here."
Then he rattles off a string of foreign-sounding words by memory, at least ¾ of which are definitely alcohol, hands clasped primly on top of the sole menu like an odd prayer.
The blank-faced waiter writes it all down on his pristine notepad, nods once in confirmation, and turns his dull gaze to the other seated members.
"... um, do you have ramen?" Naruto queries hopefully, undeterred by a lack of a menu for himself.
The blank-faced waiter slowly shakes his head in negation.
"Noodles?"
The blank-faced waiter nods.
There's a silence.
"Like, I mean, what noodles do you have?" he finally clarifies, seeing that he wasn't volunteering any information.
"Udon. Spaghetti," the blank-faced waiter drones monotonously, devoid of any inflection whatsoever.
"I'll have the udon with fishcake, beef broth, and cabbage!"
A nod, more writing.
"... something with chicken and rice and umeboshi, and anko dumplings and anmitsu for dessert," Sakura decides, resentfully glaring at Sasuke, who just lowered his glasses again and Looked at her.
Another nod, and the blank-faced waiter disappeared as magically as he was summoned.
"... that was fucking creepy, teme," Naruto comments, looking vaguely disturbed.
He waves a hand to indicate where the blank-faced waiter had stood mere seconds before.
"Like, he just came outta nowhere, and he barely said anything, and his expression was completely unreadable. Did you see his eyes? Dead eyes, I tell you, a really wrong voice, too. Then he ups and vanishes. Like a ninja! Or, well, like how Sai was before he got all jerkish. Man, I'm itching to use the Talking Technique on him."
"Where did you hire him?" Sakura tilts her head slightly, intrigued despite herself.
(Naruto has a flair for the dramatic, and he's not a half-bad storyteller.
If he hadn't been a therapist, Sakura would've advised him to go into advertising.
Not acting; Naruto can't act worth shit.
He's too honest for that, she finds.)
"... we bought out a rival company that tried to sabotage us a month ago," Sasuke admits grudgingly, taking off his sunglasses and folding them neatly on top of his discarded menu. "Root Corporation, founded by Shimura Danzo. Then we kept the employees and shuffled them around a bit. They're all excellent worker, efficient and skilled and obedient, but their people skills aren't as good."
"Wasn't Sai employed by Root Corporation before he was fired for drawing all the time?" she recalls.
Eyes wide, Naruto whispers in a horrified tone of voice, "You mean there are, like, a thousand copies of before-Sai running around?"
Sinking into his chair, he shakes his head and shudders at the thought.
A rolled-up newspaper whacks him on the head.
"Don't be ridiculous, Naruto."
"Ow! Do you keep a rolled-up newspaper in your purse or something, Sakura-chan?"
"Yes, actually."
She opens up her purse and sets it on the table with another thunk.
"See? I put a newspaper here, my pepper spray here, my brass knuckles here, my laxatives here, my bottles of water here, my phone here, a handful of extra trackers here, a taser here, a stun gun and baton just in case, my pocketknife here, a switchblade here, a Swiss Army knife for emergencies, a map of Fire Country, a map of Konoha City, my wallet, my back-up wallet, my back-up back-up wallet, my ID, my passport, my, ahem, 'extra' ID and passport, some disposable phones for business, five ration bars for emergencies, a chloroform bottle, a bottle of smelling salts, a packet of tissues, three chocolate bars, some business cards, a book about investing, a reference book for Fire Country laws, a phone especially for my lawyers, a blindfold, some twine, a flask of gasoline, a lighter, a bottle of sake to bribe, um, distract Tsunade if I see her, a couple of weights to make it heavier to lift, and some safety precautions wired to my bag in case someone steals it and I need to remotely erase any evidence. I mean, possessions."
"… You're scary strong, Sakura-chan. And very prepared for situations I never thought of and don't really want to imagine. And… I thought you didn't smoke?"
"Thank you," she smiles, a flash of sharp teeth, "I do try. Just in case some fool tries to start something with me. You should've seen the last mugger. And you're right. I don't smoke."
"… hn."
"Oh? Sasuke? Were you asking for a demonstration of just how strong I am? I can't tell, you see, because of your habit of grunting monosyllabic noises, no matter how many times I tell you to stop. Negative reinforcement might help; Naruto knows all about it, doesn't he?"
"Y-Yeah, pleasedon'thurtmeSakura-chanI'mtoocutetodieandIhaven'teatenenoughramenyet!"
"Hey, look, our food's here, silence now, Sakura and dobe, it's best to eat in silence, yes?"
.
And the worst part was, Sakura muses, staring up at the glittering city-lights around her, they were going to subject themselves to another dinner together the next month.
Willingly.
All over again.
They must be mad.
She laughs under her breath, softly.
'Team 7' has had 'mad' as their middle name, ever since they met at Konoha Children's Daycamp.
(Konoha City was doomed from that day forward.)
Sakura hails a taxi, and leaves into the night.
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Plotbunny ambushed me in my sleep. Whipped this up for Team 7 banter. I love LoanShark!Sakura. Naruto totally has a cult.
Horrible ending is horrible ending. I was half-tempted to just cut it off and note it as 'unfinished', but that seemed a bit lazy.
So I went with the lazy finished ending.
Of course.
That makes every bit of sensible sense.
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Review, or LoanShark!Sakura will haunt your dreams…
And your bills.