Sai had met the most peculiar person on the streets today, on his quest for an ideal landscape to make abstract and interesting. He'd been pale as a science-class skeleton, with hospital-gown blue hair and bumble-bee yellow eyes. He'd grinned at everyone who looked at him, flashing sharp teeth. Sai had only seen a few people with sharp teeth and they were all from some weird-ass village on the coast that practiced infanticide and all manner of odd customs. Sai had always wanted to visit the village, just to see what it was like; apparently, they liked inviting people in for the sole purpose they got sick pleasure from watching people squirm.

He'd stared, and he hadn't been subtle about it. He'd stopped in the street, disrupting the paths of several others, and stared right at him. He was used to getting stared at himself, and to be frank he almost enjoyed the attention. It probably wasn't healthy and was liable to get him shot at. But at any rate, he made a spectacle of himself, made several passers-by angry, and caught the attention of the peculiar person.

The person's eyes had traveled up from Sai's flip-flops, to the canvas tucked under his arm and the Wally's World bag full of art supplies, to his bare stomach, back down to his ratty blue jeans, then to his face, then to his paint-splattered shirt and then to the jacket tied around his waist. Then he smiled at Sai, just like he'd smiled at everyone else, and wound through the crowded sidewalk over to him.

Sai hadn't expected him to approach him, and wondered if he intended to harm him. He had a pistol in the waistband of his underwear and a smaller gun in his Wal-Mart bag--you could never be too careful in this city, and it wasn't like he'd be in trouble with the law if he remembered his license--so defending himself was not the issue. In fact, he saw no reason to be nervous. If his intent was innocent, whoop-tee-frickin'-doo. If it wasn't, well, he'd pump him full of brass. He shook all doubts from his head and smiled awkwardly.

He lived alone, save for his turtle ('Pumpkin') and his colony of cannibalistic goldfish, and wasn't exactly Mr. Social. He had a few friends, but even then his smile was infrequent, as he saw no reason to go around flashing a gratuitous grin at everything he saw, like Naruto did.

The stranger grinned wider and said, "Hey."

"Hello," Sai replied.

"Caught'cha starin' at me," the stranger said, grin unwavering.

"Yes?"

"Why?"

Sai thought about it, while the stranger stared him down. "You're very interesting."

"Yeah, I know," the stranger said. "You an artist?"

"Yes," Sai responded, moving back a few inches.

"You do portraits?"

"No. I'm no good at people."

"Bummer," the stranger said. He lifted a big-gulp cup sans lid to his lips and took a long draught. "Never mind, then. See ya."

He ambled down the street, and Sai thought about the rudeness of youth before continuing on with his life.

And would've continued doing so, if one day, he had not been in a cafe, enjoying delicious espresso--oh, sweet caffeine, upholder of all society--and heard that familiar voice ordering a Super-Sized water. Sai didn't much care, and would've gone on not caring if the stranger hadn't invited himself to sit right down.

"Hey."

Sai looked up, first through his lashes and then turning his head up, and said, "Hello."

"You like it here?"

"I'm sitting here, aren't I?"

The stranger stared for a minute, and then laughed. "Yeah, I guess. Whatcha got there?"

"Sketchbook," Sai said disinterestedly. However, he brought the side of his arm on top of it, sending the signal that it was off limits.

"You published?"

"Yes," Sai said.

"Under what name?" the stranger pressed.

"...Black-san," Sai finally admitted.

"...wait... bells are ringing... yeah, I know you. Didn't you have like, ten pieces in that one book of shunga--"

"Don't talk about that."

"So, what's your real name?"

"None of your business."

"C'mon. I'll tell you mine."

"Go right on ahead," Sai said. He'd already thought up a nickname for this one, as was his habit. It was 'Nosy Bastard.'

"Suigetsu. Written 'water moon'."

"...Sai."

"No kanji lesson?"

"Nope."

"Isn't that the polite way?"

Sai thought about it. "I suppose. You won't be writing my name any time soon, though."

Suigetsu laughed again; it was getting sort of annoying. 'Nosy Hyena,' he mentally amended.

"Wow. You're sorta robotic."

"Good for me," Sai said.

"I've seen your art before," Suigetsu said, moving back to the subject of art. "You sure cover a lot of mediums. Ukei-o, ink... you like abstract, don'cha?"

"If you make one mistake in realism, you've ruined the piece. If you make a mistake in abstract, it works itself into the piece."

"Isn't that a cop out?"

Sai spilled his coffee and looked up sharply. "Excuse me?!"

"Just saying," Suigetsu said. "It seems like a cop out to me. If you make a mistake, then you work to correct it so you don't make it anymore. That's what I was taught: it's called perseverance."

Sai decided right then and there that Suigetsu was not in any way a friend.


Thinking of continuing this so that Sai and Suigetsu get to be friends.

I'm so certain I raped Suigetsu's character, but I told myself the next fic I wrote I'd post; I've been trashing them left and right lately.