It was a hazy, scornful dark. The ceiling was pressing close, pushing the air out of the room, and suffocating me. I could do nothing but stare as I breathed the walls nearer. Thousands of eyes glared out at me from the bleakly painted plaster that so mockingly remained silent. My thoughts were so scrambled. As was the rest of me, I suppose.

I tried again and again to grasp some coherent thought or some fragment of feeling within me. There was nothing, but it was to be expected, for I had been in this state for days. There was just no purpose, no meaning that I could find for the existence I had seized. Up until the past little while I had gone about my days with steady ambition and a firm take on life. My future had come pre-planned and gift-wrapped when I was born into this world the child of a powerful corporation head; there is really never anything to worry about when you are raised in the lap of luxury and fed the family business from your delivery day.

My personality might have even been influenced by all of my time learning the trade-this being used loosely- from my father. Now that it comes to mind, my father's reign as the despot he is surely took it's own toll on me as well, the me now labeled by my peons as being as much as or more than an authoritarian in comparison to the man. It all made me resent being born into such.

But, as I said, the past couple of days have truly shaken me and awakened me to the truth of the matter. I realized that I have no purpose. The years leading up until now have been that of effortless training for my company and relaxed schooling through high school. The four year university I attended and graduated from- with a major in business and a minor in psychology- was but fleeting studies and spent time. In all of that time though, I had never once contemplated the gravity of my own being, or lack thereof, to be precise. My mind had wandered to such a topic for the sake of the inventory of my employees. They all had some important function in my building, whether it be paperwork, sales, customer assistance, executive council, or warehouse work, they all seemed to be the perfect meshing cogs that helped my machine along. Upon examining myself, however, there was but one conclusion that I could reach in regards to my position as Head Chairperson: I did nothing to really help my own machine. To be sure, I owned the thing, but what did that do? I could easily be replaced with someone else with far more experience than I and I'm positive that they would do a better job. So now, I lay here in puzzlement, agonizing over what is to become of me. My thoughts had become rather dim to say the least.

There was a knock at my door. "Sir?" a voice came from the hallway.

I didn't answer, knowing that what needed to be said was going to be whether they thought I was here or not. The voice continued, "Sir, I have the reports you asked for. I'll just be leaving them by the door."

I made no move to retrieve the papers until I was sure that whoever had left them was gone. When finally the faint footfalls had receded to nothing, I breathed deeply through my nose, preparing myself, and then rose from my bed to walk to the door. Temporarily blinded by the hallway light, I had to wait at the frame of the door for my eyes to adjust before bending to pick up the manila envelope placed on the floor. There was no one walking the house that I could see when I shut myself back into the dark.

The papers slid out easily as I shook the contents of the envelope out onto the bed. Once done, I turned on the bedside lamp that stood faithfully on its perch. A low light filled the room instantly, illuminating the pages I was to review. A name scrawled oh so neatly at the top of one of the pages caught my eye almost immediately. I lifted the paper to examine it more closely.

There, at the top, was the name that I abhorred more than any personal demon that might afflict me, for the demon bearing the name was of flesh and blood and ready to slither in at any time. Brother…

The name was indicative of the-surely- on-coming unpleasantness that waited in the paragraphs below it. Never had my brother sent me any communication of any sort unless it was unavoidable by necessity; all of which were few and far between to say the least. Being the Head Chair that I was, I was still not in control of the entire operation; Father had found it necessary to all but assign my brother as my babysitter before he-my father- and my mother met their end in a burning English countryside inn some years ago. And being the tyrannical perfectionist that my brother was, he naturally assumed not only that appointed role, but also the position of Father, Mother, and Teacher, all of whom were portrayed "for my sake". When all of these roles merged with that one person, I got strings attached to my puppet hands and a marionette watching my every move. I despised the man with every inch of myself for crippling me so.

So, upon receiving this document from the despicable creature, I was none too eager to read what it had to say, let alone do anything it said as to please my shadow king. With lips pulled up in repulsion at the thing, I began to scan the dispatch for the point to the note. Again, I was struck by what was inked on the paper. Skipping the formalities and greetings, about halfway down the page, were the words "Merger Deal" in bolded print. As I continued on, I silently prayed that this was a requisition for my consent on the deal. There was another section that I skipped over as to ascertain the verdict, only to have my worst suspicions realized in cold, black print, boldly italicized at the end of the page.

Finalized.

That snapped the feeling back into me; it hurt and made me nauseous. How could I have not seen the papers on this? Where were the consent forms that I needed to sign? I would have never agreed to such a horrendous deal in the first place! A merger, for heaven's sake? What company could have possibly bought enough of our shares to have the audacity to propose a merging? I knew of none, but the paper that I still clutched in my hands dared me to look. I quickly skimmed over the words in search of the offender's name, wracking my brain for anything on the subject, when the name jumped out at me like some obvious pointing finger: Suna. Then I froze.

My completion, our enemies, Suna, was now part of my company. My precious machine was being dissembled and combined with foreign parts that I knew simply would not mesh. I felt the effects of shock setting in, making the room start to spin at a sluggish pace. I put one hand to my face and breathed out shallowly into my palm, closing my eyes.

My racing thoughts could come up with but one conclusion for this monstrosity. With my being absent from my ruling position for the past few days, my brother, with essentially just as much power as myself, must have forged this with Suna without my knowing. My attention was once again drawn to the remaining documents that had fallen from the envelope along with the one in my hand.

I hastily snatched up the rest and read them one by one. There only being five pages to the lot, I had no trouble finding what I was seeking. Just as I had expected, there was a copied version of what looked like the final contract with the signatures of the governing bodies scribbled in official hand across the dotted lines. And also, just as I had expected, my brother's elegantly penned name was signed in my place at the top "x". I clenched my teeth in the agonizing anger that came with seeing that name written on a binding document such as this.

The other papers I held were that of the terms of agreement and, to my horror, another personal letter addressed to me from him. This new letter was, of course, in regards to the previous few pages of blasphemy. In it, he described for me the new roles that he and I would take on, as well as just what this would mean for me in particular. He mentioned that I would still be Head Chairperson, however, that position would have to be split into two equal parts for me and the Suna head as well. I had met the man many times, and in all honesty he was just the kind of person that I would find myself associating with regularly. Still, I had no intentions of just sitting back and allowing my machine that my family had built to be half another's.

At the end of the last page, there was a phone number to call to reach my brother. It was odd and a bit discomforting that he had left me some way to get in direct contact with him. He had never done so before, but I suppose that under the circumstances he knew that I would get in touch with him somehow. How thoughtful of him to save me the trouble.

It was so hard to swallow. I thought of all possible events leading up to this, and drew a blank. The meetings for this arrangement had obviously been secretive and kept from everyone including Suna staff, otherwise there would be a media frenzy waiting outside my closed curtains right now. This must have been planned out for quite a while also, for binding one giant company to another was not done overnight. But for all of these meetings and contracts to be proven useful, I would, of course, have to be rendered incapable of completing my duties as Head Chair, therefore temporarily submitting my power to him. But, for any of that to have affect on his signing competencies, I would need to be out of the picture within the timeframe of at most two weeks post-draw-up of the papers; knowing that the lawyers hired for this surely would not wait any longer than that to oversee the procedures.

My self musings over the last little bit hadn't come with warning bells, nor had I told anyone that I was leaving the office the day that I had. The timing was all too perfect and worked in my brother's favor far too well to be something other than a conspirator conspiring with another conspirator against my machine and me. The perverted procreation of this new, distorted organization was something that only Satan could have conceived! Satan, whom I was convinced was in league with my brother, must have some affliction with a properly functioning system, but then again, he was the master of chaos, was he not? Chaos, pure and limitless, was officially taking the reins in my life and pushing me over into the passenger's seat to watch, all starting with this contemptuous affair; it was mildly… refreshing, after the week that I had endured.

The billions of thoughts that swarmed in my skull stopped, if only for a moment, to produce one question that I was a bit anxious as to the answer: how did they manage to collaborate my absence from the office with the small window of opportunity needed for the deal? It was impossible unless they had somehow managed to draw up the contracts in that little time…?

Did it really matter?

He had given me the necessary information to get the answers to all of my questions had he not? The reply to my queries was but a call away… and there was no way that I would simply leave this alone.

Heavy footfalls sounded outside my door just as I was about to tear my skin off and slither under my bed. They halted just short of the door and three knocks rang out against my shuddering breaths. "Sir?"

"Yes, what is it?" I said and was surprised by the breathless way the words fell from my mouth. I clinched my teeth against the obscenities that threatened my lips.

"Ah, well, there is a phone call for you," The same voice from before said. My hand instantly flew to my pockets in search of my phone but paused at the lip of the opening when I felt the absence of the familiar weight of the device there. Where…

"I have it here. It was in your study, Sir,"

… Ah, there it is. I walked briskly to the door and opened it enough for the man to slip his hand through to give me my phone; he did and I mumbled a word of thanks in return. I held the thing to my ear.

"Hello?" I greeted in as clipped a tone as I could muster.

"Hello Brother," teased the voice, to my utmost disgust, at the other end of the line. Of course he would call me, just to catch me off guard, and possibly satisfy his unfathomable hunger for my uneasiness. I should have expected it.

I didn't say anything, yet he continued on as if the awkward silence that I had tried to initiate had not been there. "I'm sure that you have gotten the package," Again, he did not pause for my input. "And I'm sure that you might have some concerns about this new development of ours. That is correct?" I could feel my eyes narrowing at his cool tone. I only dignified that question with a growl in response.

"Very good. Well, I have no time to talk now, unfortunately, but I will speak with you tomorrow at lunch. I've already given the man that handed you the phone the address to our little rendezvous, so I suggest that you find him and then show up. Goodbye."

Then the connection was cut off and I all but pitched the beeping device at the darkened wall. My anger was so thick that it coated my throat and mouth and prevented any calming breaths that I would have taken from slipping past my pressed lips and clinched teeth. Eyes screwed tightly shut and skin prickling unpleasantly under my clothes, I raised both of my hands to my head: my left harshly pinching the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger while the right rose further to rake my fingers through my hair. I was reminded of my own un-cleanliness when I felt the grease that had accumulated and slickened my scalp; I probably would have experienced more of a shudder had my entire world not been dissolving right before my eyes. My fingers pulled harshly at the roots in great handfuls, not only relieving some of my self loathing, but also assuring me that this God-awful situation was entirely realistic and not a nightmare. There was nothing like oncoming hell to put meaning back into your life. Life is just so much fun sometimes.

After I had tracked down the housekeeper specified with the address, I then proceeded to, following my return to my room/haven, lie back on my bed, even more mystified by my existence, and whisper to my ever-closing ceiling about how completely irrational life seemed to be.

It was almost time, and I've never been more ready. My daily routine, starting with a shower, had ended with the completion of my dressing in my usual business attire: a fairly formal suit jacket, black in this case, with a white, button-down shirt -black pin-strips- underneath, paired nicely against dark pants. Choosing tasteful clothing was something I didn't go at length to uphold, but representing myself as something not akin to a slob was something I treasured.

I didn't bother to check the mirror as I grabbed my keys and wallet, leaving through the front door.

The restaurant designated by my brother was a good distance away, a thirty minute drive if there was no traffic. I just thanked God that it wasn't a bar and grill type establishment; loud, drunken men going into hysterics over the last football play was the last thing I wanted to deal with while handling business.

When I arrived at said restaurant, the frustration mounting inside me almost boiled over when I spotted a sign on the entrance that read in capitals, "CLOSED". Of course it was… and that fool beckoned me here for naught. I gripped my keys tightly between my knuckles while I turned to return to my car, loving how the metal bit into my skin so I didn't have to think about…

"Sir, are you waiting here for someone?"

I slipped on a mask of authority and looked up. "Yes, I am." My countenance must have faltered; the girl who addressed me seemed to consider me for a moment. She smiled. "May I ask who you are meeting with? He might have come here earlier."

I hesitated, not really wanting to reveal such information to whoever asked it of me; actually, I had no idea where she had come from or why she was here. I really hadn't even heard her walk up. On the slight possibility, however, that this woman had any information on whether or not my brother had come, I would ask her.

"I was waiting on my brother…" I started, but was interrupted. "Oh! You're him!" I cocked an eyebrow at her forward presumptions. Her eyes widened exponentially, parading intense sapphire from behind heavily applied makeup. "Pardon me for that, but he's waiting inside for you." The blonde checked left and right before leaning in closer and cupping a hand to her mouth, giving me an incentive to listen more closely. "Since the restaurant is always so booked, we 'close' it during the day, and extend it to our more, ahem, deep pocketed customers. He made reservations and told me to look for you!" She ushered me inside the building quickly.

The atmosphere was that of a shady, luxurious lounge. I suppose it was, really. The windows were tinted, making it impossible for people outside to see inside, the lights were dimmed to the extreme, and the only real light was coming from the candles on the tables. The people sitting around the variously sized tables were all in their finest: suits and dresses, high-heels and ties were found everywhere I looked. It wasn't until then that I noticed what the host, the girl from outside, was wearing. As she gathered a menu for me from the wall, her practical cocktail attire swayed about her loosely.

"Okay then." She said. "Welcome to Shade! You can call me Lace. Follow me please." Which I did. Lace led me through the place to the middle of the lounge where my brother waited silently, his head resting on an arm propped on the table.

I sat immediately and Lace laid the menu down in front of me. I paid no attention, but instead glared pointedly at the man opposite me. He returned the gesture with a smirk. "It's nice of you to come, Sasuke." He said smoothly. I glared all the harder. "You knew I would, Itachi."

He nodded in the affirmative and motioned for the waiter. I hadn't even glanced at my menu. Then man came straight over, putting pen to paper. "Champagne, please. Bring the bottle." He ordered. "Nothing for me. I'll just have the drink." I said right after. The man nodded and then rushed off.

My brother plucked a pen from his inside jacket pocket and I noticed that he was wearing one of his finest suits. I couldn't help feeling a tad under dressed while in my business clothes, sitting in a room full of spectacularly clad people. My embarrassment went undetected as Itachi set the pen on the table, saying "It will be of use later." I let out a frustrated sigh. He made no indication of hearing it. "You are here to ask questions, yes?" he questioned lightly. "Of course I am. Why else would I be?" I let my anger become evident, if it hadn't already been, in my words.

He shrugged. "I had hoped that you were here just see me, little brother." He chuckled and that irritated me. He wasn't taking this seriously. The people here made everything harder, I thought. All of them were talking in whispers, with the exception of the loud few, making it seem as if a wave were washing overhead, back and forth. It concerned me when I heard some rather over the top laughter coming from a table close to ours.

There was some hidden microphone on the woman seated at the table facing me; there must have been. The vociferous female's shrilly obnoxious laugh, which played in cycles every time something –anything- was said in her general direction, was splitting me from the inside out. He just sat there, smiling subtly, like a melodious symphony was being played behind him.

When the champagne arrived I wasted no time in downing my first glass. If I had to take this cacophony for the duration of my discussion with my brother, then I needed something to mollify the headache I could feel forming.

"Please, little brother, ask whatever you like." Itachi held his head tilted in one hand, elbow propped up on the arm of his elegant chair. How could he just ignore that? I craned my neck a bit to get a good look at the lady, still voicing noisily that something was 'simply hilarious!'. I could honestly say that I have never seen such a woman before in my life; she had bubble-gum pink hair spilling over her shoulders as she held her head back to let out another round of laughs, emerald eyes set in a pale, but heavily painted face, and a dress that I'm sure all of the man at her table were enjoying thoroughly.

I furrowed my eyebrows when she looked at me, but she must have just noticed me because she stopped dead and gaped at me from behind my brother's head. When the girl's friends saw her staring, they all turned to me and frowned angrily. I fixed them all with a fierce glare of my own before averting my attention back to the topic at hand.

"Well," I started, "let me just get straight to the point: why, in God's name, did you merge my company?" He blew out a breath. "I would think you mean 'our' company, and I only did what was best for our company. Suna would have made an offer you couldn't have refused soon enough and bought the whole thing, leaving you with but cold money in your bank account. I settled the matter and let you keep your position as Head Chair." He reached for his glass and I reached for mine.

"Ask another." He directed before taking the smallest of sips from his drink. I, on the other hand, gulped it down as I had the last, then proceeded to my next question.

"How did you know that I was going to be… out of commission when I was, so that you could take advantage of that time?" That had been bothering me from the moment I had received the finalized papers. He refilled my glass before answering. "I know you better than you know yourself." He stated simply, and said not another word about it. I would have to impose more on that later.

"When did you start making plans with Suna?" I took another drink.

"Ten months ago, I believe." He watched me throw back the next one. "What position does this arrangement leave me in? I know that I still retain my Chair status, but that could be something different altogether with Suna." "The counsel of Chairs still have authority, and you are still the Head, but the merge has simply split the Head in two." I gave him a questioning look. "There are now two Head Chairpersons, not just one. The Suna president will be the other in the new company." I was taken aback. Two! "I believe that the documents I sent you explained that particular situation clearly." Ah yes, I recall such words now. The shock must not have worn off completely.

"The president from Suna is very good at what he does, brother, make no mistake. He will work just as hard as you do to make this what it needs to be." I hung my head and gritted my teeth. "I'm sure he will. Is there anything else that I need to be aware of?" I demanded. "I do not want any more surprises." He studied me for a moment, then reached beneath the table, returning his hand with a stack of papers in it.

"This is a bit sudden, but it is necessary for you to keep your place in the company. Suna's committee is determined to find fault in you and I've found a way to maintain your supremacy." I felt my stomach tighten unpleasantly, a familiar sensation usually accompanied with the forthcoming of something schemed by my brother. I had the exact feeling when I read who that wretched envelope was from a few of days ago.

"They know of your previous degrees in college and are impressed with just how young you were when the company was entrusted to you. But," the man paused and trained his charcoal eyes to meet with mine, equally pitch. I narrowed my eyes as he drew his brows together in a semi-apologetic expression. "They want more from you. You need more training for their liking, brother." The fear built in my chest as I anticipated what came from his mouth next.

"I've enrolled you in the University for your Master's degree. You start at the next semester, which begins in three weeks."