Title: The Four Seasons - Part 2: Spring

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Humor, romance, music

Pairing: Eventual SasuNaru

Characters: Lots of Team 7 (Sai included) and more or less everyone else.

Wordcount: 6 450 of 29 300

Summary: What does a string quartet consist of? A good violinist (first violin), a bad violinist (second violin), an ex-violinist (viola) and someone who hates violinists altogether (cello).


Unbeta-ed D: I apologize in advance for all the errors and typos ;-;

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.


The Four Seasons


[Viola, n.: A stringed instrument of the violin family, slightly larger than a violin, tuned a fifth lower, and having a deeper, more sonorous tone.

In the past, since the viola's role is mostly as accompaniment, that is to say 'secondary', violists (= viola players, not to be confused with violinists) used to be chosen among the worst violin players. It's not really the case anymore today but violist are still the target of countless jokes among musicians, having the reputation of being bad, often dumb players.]


- Spring -


Sasuke glanced at his watch and swore under his breath as he stalked down the corridor.

He was late for their morning practice. He hated being late. He hated that training with the orchestra was taking up their whole afternoons and that they had to come in at ungodly hours of the morning to fit in their quartet's practice. He hated feeling that tired for said practice. And he hated being half-hungover while he was at it.

God damn Itachi, surprise visits and his last finds in the realm of red wine to the last circle of Hell.

He was so focused on cursing the man that he didn't notice he was already hearing music until he'd almost reached their appointed room. When he did his steps faltered and slowed down, almost stopping entirely.

It sounded like Sakura had already begun. And it sounded like she was in a far better state than Sasuke felt today. She was playing her part from that piece of Debussy without a hitch for once, whereas she usually found it incredibly difficult to play it right.

And yet her music sounded different somehow. If only Sasuke could put his finger on it...

He felt he was just about to find out what exactly was ticking him off when the music broke off abruptly.

"Hear that?" he was surprised to hear Naruto say. "I think it's here you lose the rhythm. You don't draw that minim quite long enough and you carry on with the quavers a little bit too fast because you worry about the upcoming scale already. I know it's a difficult one, but you should trust your abilities more. Enter it slowly, it should be a piece of cake."

The music came back, smooth and flowing under gifted, nimble fingers, before it vanished again. "See? Just like that. Now try it."

Sasuke reached the door just in time to see Naruto give the violin and bow back to Sakura who took them with a smile of thanks. He stood in the doorway, feeling numb, while the blonde musician took out his viola and began to tune it as if nothing had just happened, as if he hadn't just proved he could play the violin beautifully as well.

"You're late," Sai said from the corner where he often scribbled God knew what instead of working on his music. "So I made a chart. If your seven minutes delay count for as many negative points, then Naruto is back under the whole cumulated hour. Sakura and I, on the other hand, even won some bonus points. Now I have a suggestion about a rewarding system-"


When the orchestra parted that evening, Sasuke found himself taking his time to pack up his things. He knew that Naruto always lost time chatting with other people and was therefore one of the last to leave the place. Not that Sasuke had anything to say to him or-

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Naruto exclaimed, rolling his eyes because he'd obviously noticed the violinist's strange behavior. "Just ask, I know you're dying for it."

Sasuke threw him an irritated glare, never admitting he felt embarrassed at being that obvious. Then he carefully closed his violin case, smoothing his hands over the surface of the box as if to straighten the rigid material.

"I don't understand," he finally conceded. "If you're so good with a violin, why do you remain stuck to a mere viola?"

Not that Naruto's playing on his instrument was bad, far from it actually. But from what Sasuke had heard that morning, brief though it had been, it was only a matter of training before the blond musician could have a seat as first violin within reach.

(Outside from Konoha's orchestra of course. That seat was very much taken.)

Naruto had turned a chair around and sat on it backwards, arms folded on top of the backrest. He gazed at Sasuke for a long time, long enough for the violinist to feel unnerved. When he spoke, it was softly:

"You told me the other day that you didn't care about who my father was. But you actually don't know who it is at all, do you?"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, silently racking his brain in search of any known artist wearing the name Uzumaki. He came up blank and prepared a cutting remark in answer, but Naruto went on before he could utter it:

"See, I took up my mother's last name when I entered the Academy. I didn't want to be associated with him from the get go. Although the way I look and play already does it sometimes."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes at the violist, taking in his bright hair, his blue eyes. He remembered the way he held instruments, with surprising grace and care for someone as clumsy as him, like they were something to be cherished and stroked so that they played as they should and...

And he felt an ominous suspicion spark at the bottom of his stomach.

"When I was a child," Naruto went on with a smile, probably guessing what Sasuke was thinking, "there was that great alliteration in my name. Naruto Namikaze. Sounds great, doesn't it?"

"You're kidding," Sasuke almost snapped.

Naruto laughed softly. "I assure you I'm not."

And Sasuke knew that already. He kicked himself for not having noticed it earlier. Hell, he'd had a four by five feet poster of Namikaze over his headboard from age six onwards. The man had been one of his young mind's idols, right behind his brother and right beside Bach, Prokofiev and Chopin.

Everyone in the music world knew of Namikaze - Minato Namikaze, the violin master who could make even the cheapest instrument sound like a flowing river, like the song of birds, like a choir of angels. Hearing his music would make the most illiterate idiot stop in his tracks and listen with an enraptured attention he'd never known, it would make music lovers falter and stutter with emotion and incomprehension at how such a thing was possible.

But everyone knew of that terrible accident too, the event that had deprived the world of the genius, and the genius of his gift. Namikaze's hands had been broken and had never entirely recovered the dexterity they'd once had.

His ears had never been able to catch a sound again.

Sasuke looked at Naruto now, saw the reflection of his father in him, noticed his small, pained smile and wondered how hard it had been, in the years that had followed the car crash, to keep on living while the whole music world was mourning like the man was dead entirely.

"For a long time, I chose the viola for all the wrong reasons," Naruto began softly. Sasuke sat down, ready to listen. "At first it was almost forced on me, in fact. When I began at the Academy the teachers only saw my father in me, and they expected me to be the same."

He snorted. Sasuke could only imagine how hard it must have been, growing up and beginning to play in such a man's shadow. Hell, he'd suffered from growing in Itachi's shadow and the man was a food critique now, roaming the Five Countries in search of the most unusual dishes and receipts he could find.

"Hell, they would've loved it if I had already been able to play as well as he did in his prime," Naruto went on. "But I wasn't, upon admittance I was only like any other eight-years-old with more passion, more hopes, more dreams than talent. They were so disappointed," he laughed softly, even if you could feel the hurt underneath, the pain of a boy unable to meet expectations he didn't realize were far too high. "I had taken up the violin, of course. And each and every time I made a mistake they kept repeating I didn't deserve the instrument, didn't even deserve my place in school sometimes and threatened to relegate me to the viola ranks. See, they still had their old-fashioned ideas about how you recruited violists."

His smile vanished and he buried his nose in his arms before he went on: "And I let them. I never listened to what my parents said and moved on to the viola because I believed I wasn't good enough, because I was sure I had failed and wouldn't ever do anything right."

There was a silence, then Naruto straightened slightly, just enough to rest his chin on his forearms.

"Not the best way to start with an instrument," he mused, followed with a sarcastic snort. "Then I kept at it out of spite and petty revenge. Because, you see, I got better. I always worked by leaps and bounds. I would train and train and train and wouldn't do any progress. And suddenly I would get it, my fingers would suddenly become nimbler or my body would find the right stance, like they'd known all along and only waited until that precise moment to show it. And the staff of the Academy, oh, they wanted me as a violinist then, of course. I refused," he smirked, "which was stupid, I know. But I don't regret it."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest.

"See, now I'm a violist because I really like it, you know. I love it, actually. It took me a while to get there and to understand, but now I've reached that point and hell if I'm moving." He titled his head to the side, eyes lost in memories. "I got help on the way. Did you know Jiraiya Sennin was a violist before he went off on his search for the craziest percussions and instruments he could find? He's the one who made me listen to what violas were doing for an orchestra. He has those recordings of whole concerts in which they've taken out the violas' part - don't ask me how they did it - and it's awful, believe it. It just sounds so... so absurd and empty and unbalanced. You barely notice they're here when they are and yet..." He shrugged. "They support the whole orchestra and violins first and foremost. They're, like, the instruments behind the scenes, they're the one really pulling the strings here."

The shit-eating grin he couldn't repress as he spoke those words was a clear indicator as to how clearly he was aware of the bad pun he'd just made.

"And they don't care if they aren't in the spotlight because they know they're essential anyway."

Sasuke's raised eyebrow took on a sarcastic curve. Naruto saw it and chuckled.

"Okay, I admit, I'd love to have the spotlight and I'm a sucker for any piece composed exclusively for violas, not just arranged for them. Telemann is my God. But still. A viola-" He smiled at that, a small, happy, tender smile. "They're underrated. They're like the misunderstood poet in the orchestra. And yet they have such a rich tone; their timbre is only a tad lower and it's enough for them to sound that much warmer. You just have to know how to handle them. I love the fact that you can do so much with them, that they have all those hidden abilities waiting to be discovered if you're just curious enough."

He sighed and the silence settled. It drew itself out until Naruto threw a malicious glance at Sasuke and joked:

"So don't get you panties in a twist. I don't have my eye on your beloved seat. You're safe." He grinned. "For now."


The concert was going to start soon and Sasuke was nervous.

He hated being nervous. Not that he never felt anything of the sort before a performance in public, far from it. After all, you needed that small thrill sparked by your own expectations and those of the public to surpass yourself for a couple of hours. But feeling nervous like he currently was...

That nervousness was the wrong side of these feelings: the slight fear that made your heart beat a little bit too fast until you had more risks of losing the rhythm, the additional tension that laced your shoulders until it turned your posture faulty, the slight tremor that made your hand tremble until your bow couldn't hold a straight, pure note anymore.

God, how he loathed that feeling...

And he hated the fact that Itachi was able to cause it just by informing his little brother that he'd exceptionally be in Konoha that evening and would make the most of it by coming to see him play. Knowing that Itachi would be there somewhere in the large hall while Sasuke steered the whole orchestra through tuning, while he led the violins to accompany the opera singers just the right way...

The fact that the orchestra would almost have a secondary role that evening didn't change anything.

Worse, he knew what Itachi's presence meant even before the start of the concert and he couldn't even breathe behind the scenes, fearing that any second-

"Excuse me, sir?"

Just as he knew it would happen, Itachi had just stepped in through a side door, not caring about the flaming red sign claiming it was reserved for the staff. Sasuke hastily retreated back into the corridor he'd been about to leave before his brother could see him. For a second he toyed with the idea of locking himself up in the orchestra's changing rooms, then realized the voice he'd heard was very familiar when it spoke again:

"I'm really sorry but you're not allowed to be here."

Eyes narrowed, back pressed to the wall, Sasuke twisted his neck so that he could throw a glance around the corner and see what was happening. And indeed Naruto was there, standing right beside Itachi, bringing two extremities of Sasuke's life together in a unexpected, dizzying whole.

"I'm looking for Sasuke Uchiha," Itachi replied with that calm voice of his, the one he knew always unnerved the person he was talking to. Chilly bastard.

"He's getting ready and is therefore unavailable," was Naruto's clipped answer, apparently unfazed by Itachi's vocal wiles. "I'll have to ask you to leave."

Itachi wasn't one to back down that easily, of course. "Tell him his brother is here to see him," he said as if Naruto hadn't just explicitly refused.

His calm but authoritative words had the exact opposite effect to the one they were meant to. Naruto, who until then had been nervously scratching at the back of his head, obviously forcing himself to be polite and nice, stilled and crossed his arms. For the first time Sasuke found himself really appreciating the blond musician's single-, strong-headedness.

"I told you it wasn't possible. Try and talk with the reception desk if you wish to see him that much after the concert," Naruto stressed between clenched teeth. "For now, leave or-"

"Got a problem, Blondie?" one of the heavy-armed, dark-skinned bodyguards of the opera house asked from behind his sunglasses. He was standing near the heavy curtains hiding the stage from the public but was turned in their direction, ready to intervene at a moment's notice. "A word from you and I make that bloke flee."

Sasuke had never understood why security had such a soft spot for Naruto.

"None at all, B," Naruto replied, his eyes never leaving Itachi. "Our surprise guest was just about to leave, wasn't he?"

Now Itachi wasn't an idiot and knew when to admit he'd lost the battle. He stared coldly at Naruto for a long while, probably waiting for the blond violist to falter and back down - which he didn't - then he narrowed his eyes and turned away.

"I'll come back," he promised, discontent clear in his voice.

"After the concert," Naruto reminded him as Itachi left through the door.

He let out an explosive sigh once said door had closed, followed by a grunt Sasuke interpreted as 'ass'.

He waited until they were back in the changing rooms and the other musicians were beginning to leave to go find their seat in the orchestra pit before he stopped the blond violist on his way out.

"Thank you for making Itachi leave earlier," he said low enough for his words not to be heard by anyone else. "He can be a bit... overbearing."

And still hadn't understood that Sasuke wasn't an eight-years-old in need of his big brother's good wishes and support before every single one of his concerts anymore.

Naruto only blinked at him, eyebrows raised.

"You know him?" Another blink. "Wait, that was really your brother?" he blurted out, apparently floored. Then he guffawed. "Man, I thought it was another one of those crazy fans trying to get at you or something. They make up the wildest stories, you know."

It was Sasuke's turn to blink. The resemblance between him and Itachi was kind of obvious...

Then he smirked and patted Naruto on the shoulder as he passed him on his way out.

"Don't change, Blondie. Don't ever change."

He heard Naruto protest loudly for the nickname all the way to the pit where Sakura welcomed him with an enthusiastic smile. From the other side of the conductor's rostrum Naruto threw him a grin as he sat down and Sai caught his eyes with a nod.

And he realized he wasn't feeling that nervous anymore.


"I met the rudest boy imaginable today," Itachi said over a glass dark red wine.

Sasuke turned his own glass in the light to admire the deep color of its content.

"And I think, I think, that I saw him among the orchestra players during the concert," Itachi added.

Sasuke brought his glass back towards him and, with a small, slow circular movement of his wrist, he made the liquid swirl slightly so that it could breathe.

"They'll really hire anybody, it seems," Itachi went on in a mutter.

Sasuke brought the glass to his face and breathed in through his nose, closing his eyes. The bouquet was rich, fruity and promised a little bit of sourness in the aftertaste.

"You should do something about it," Itachi suggested. "Aren't you the leader of the orchestra?"

Eyes still closed, Sasuke tilted the glass towards him and took a small sip of wine, letting it spread its taste on his tongue. It had strength but was also slightly tart. Pity.

Fortunately Itachi knew when to let a subject drop, even if it took him a while to relent.

"Also, I found that quiet family restaurant in Wave Country, or rather in the middle of nowhere," he said, his voice taking on a new, vivid tone. "They make the best dango I've ever eaten."

Sasuke smirked in his glass. "I thought you were there to critique a renowned three-star restaurant in the capital."

"Was I?" Itachi's smirk was more discreet and refined than his, but no less efficient. "Well, I didn't. I'm sure our readers will enjoy the humble but cozy establishment I discovered far more after all."

And that, Sasuke supposed, was why Itachi hadn't been fired yet. He almost never did what he was supposed to do, never followed the pattern of assignments that had been drawn for him, but he had some incredible instinct and always found something better than the places he'd allegedly set out for. The only times he set foot in some renowned restaurant everyone expected the guidebook he worked for to rate, it was to leave behind an incendiary article written in polar sentences that had the whole staff crying for their mother.

Sasuke guessed many a restaurant was happy he didn't follow his duty to the letter and feared the day he'd step through its door on a whim.

"Do you think?" Sasuke asked after he'd taken another mouthful of wine and felt it warm up his throat. He put his glass down, crossed his arms and rested them on the table, tilting his head to the side. "Tell me more about it."


There was a click on the other end of the line, followed by a feminine voice:

"Is that you, Sasuke?"

"Mother," Sasuke replied with a nod, although she couldn't see it. "I wish you a happy Mother's Day. How are you?"

He could hear his mother's smile in her voice when she warmly answered: "Fine. More than fine, now. My darling little boy," she cooed, then she seemed to perk up even more when she added: "Itachi just called too. I think it's three in the morning where he is."

"Really."

Sasuke swore internally. He'd thought that with Itachi being on the other side of the planet it would mean he'd win that one time. No such luck.

Well, he'd try again for their mother's birthday then. And on Father's Day. And...

"But what about you, Sasuke? How are you?"

Sasuke had to pass his cell phone onto his other hand so that he could push open the door to the building the orchestra practiced in. "I'm fine, mother," he replied. "A little bit tired, perhaps."

God damn practices at seven in the morning.

"From what I've heard, you are the only one to impose such a rhythm to yourself."

Sounded like Kakashi had been talking too much once more. Sasuke shrugged. "Things have to be as close to perfection as possible, mother," he said, knowing she would understand.

She'd seen him spend hours and hours on end with his violin from the day he'd started playing the instrument onwards, and had always done everything she could to encourage his passion and help him through his first steps. She'd learned music theory and reading, she'd found breathing exercises that would better his posture, she'd never backed down when it came to new necessary purchases, she'd stood at his side every time he'd had to buy a new violin because he'd outgrown the former one.

He'd loved those times. He'd missed them once he'd started at the Music Academy, he remembered.

"Don't overdo it and tire yourself out," she scolded him gently. "That's all I'm asking."

"Of course," Sasuke whispered.

There was a silence, during which all he heard was the sound of his own footsteps echoing down the corridor and, beyond, the soft streaming of piano notes. Shino Aburame, their blind but incredibly talented pianist, was already at work. He always chose the craziest times to practice, it seemed. But at the same time, he couldn't see the difference between day and night. The fact that it was still dark when he got up would never have any influence on his morale.

"And how are the members of your quartet turning out?" his mother asked, sounding amused. Sasuke remembered how entertaining she'd found his endless ranting at the beginning of the year.

He thought of Naruto's tireless enthusiasm and lame jokes, of Sakura's iron will and no-nonsense mind, of Sai's gift to perpetually be off the mark and of the first feelings shyly peeking out from under his playing. He thought of the pieces they'd played and of the fact that he now liked mornings almost better than afternoons, despite his never having been a morning person.

"They're alright, I guess," he mumbled as he ascended the stairs that would lead him to the right corridor.

His mother chuckled, not fooled for a second by his vague answer. "I see," she chimed, but thankfully let the matter drop. "And tell me, would you happen to already know where the summer camp takes place this year?"

Summer camp was one of the orchestra's traditions. Since there was no way the musicians would be allowed to leave for more than a week because it meant just as much time not training with the rest of the orchestra, the board organized a yearly three-weeks-stay in some far away location or other for all his musicians so that they could have a taste of real holidays without actually dropping practice.

And every single year, Sasuke's parents wanted to know what their destination was so that they could rent a house not far from the place and have the occasion to spend some time with their son. They hadn't much time for that during the year, being both extremely busy and often out of the country, a high-powered two-people cell that could still conquer the world if it wished to. They came to some of his concerts, sure, but never told him beforehand because they knew it made him unnecessarily nervous, and they didn't always have the time to see him afterwards.

"Not yet," Sasuke answered, but he was looking forward to it and made a mental note to call back as soon as the information had come in.

An unexpected burst of laughter had him raise his head and notice he'd reached the room that had gradually become his quartet's lair, not to be entered carelessly. "I've got to go, mother," he said. "Music calls."

She chuckled and wished him a good day. He bid her goodbye and snapped his phone shut, slipping it back into his inside pocket just as he stepped through the door.

Naruto was already there, sprawled on his chair with one hand deep in his pocket and the other holding his own cellphone to his ear, happily chatting away. Sakura was standing at the table in the corner, fiddling with the coffee machine under Sai's curious, attentive gaze.

The device had mysteriously appeared one day and had been welcomed as the quartet's new messiah, the one that would guide them through the early hours of work even in the middle of winter when it looked like day never really broke. The smell of coffee was pungent in the air, and Sasuke found himself craving a cup.

Sakura held one out to him just as he stepped up to her, not even bothering to look in his direction. She kept clicking away, explaining to Sai the different functions the high-tech device was apparently endowed with.

Sasuke took the cup gratefully and came back towards the center of the room. Naruto had just ended his call and was gazing at his cell's dark screen with a soft smile on his lips.

"Your mother?" Sasuke asked as he sat down, adjusting his dark trousers so that they didn't crease and taking a sip of his coffee.

Naruto chuckled. "Of course." He reached up and undid the first top buttons of his shirt. Sasuke had noticed he'd never ended one of their sessions with his suit jacket on, even in the deepest of winter. Now that the weather was becoming distinctly warmer he would come in with said jacket already thrown over his shoulder and his shirt would automatically end up with at least one of its buttons undone and its sleeves rolled up.

Sasuke didn't mind, as long as those infringements on dress code remained confined to practice hours and Naruto remained correctly clothed during their concerts.

"She's with my dad at some thermal spa somewhere in Yu," Naruto added, and Sasuke noticed he'd been staring at the man's toned forearms since the sleeves hadn't even made it to the first minute that time around. "Spending her whole time getting taken care of."

"Then I guess she's alright," Sasuke said, now staring hard into his coffee.

Naruto snorted. "Of course."

Sasuke felt more hesitant when he asked: "And your father...?"

There was a silence. The violinist couldn't help but glance at his partner and notice his now more subdued expression. He wondered if he'd overstepped a boundary but then Naruto answered, very quietly:

"He's doing better. He's able to write again and... and that's a good thing, right?"

He threw a smile at Sasuke that was a little bit wavering, a little bit forced. Sasuke racked his brain for something to say and found nothing.

A loud beep echoed throughout the room. Surprised, Sasuke turned his head just in time to see Sakura slap Sai on the head with a hissed 'No idiot, what did I just say?'. Apparently, the cellist wasn't faring so well.

When he brought his attention back to Naruto he noticed that his cup of coffee had disappeared from his hands.

"Soon he'll be able to scold and berate me freely again," Naruto said in a lighter voice, raising the coffee cup with a grin in answer to Sasuke's dirty look. "Although only through letters. Which is terrible, really. After all, if spoken words pass away, written words remain."


"You'll never guess what happened!"

Naruto and Sasuke glanced up from where they were studying a music score, heads bowed close together over the table. Sakura was standing in the doorway, out of breath, hair and clothes disheveled, gripping the doorjamb with both hands as if to keep herself from falling.

Sasuke drew a chair out for her and she stumbled to it, collapsing onto the seat with a relieved sigh. Two pairs of curious eyes and one raised eyebrow were now directed towards her.

"I overheard Ino," she began between gasps, "talking to Sai and saying that she'd heard some janitors talking about a conversation they'd eavesdropped on, in which Kakashi and Gai - you know, the man responsible for the brass section - talked about-"

"The point?" Sasuke interrupted, knowing he'd be very happy not knowing how the orchestra's rumor-mill worked exactly.

Sakura gulped, apparently finding it difficult to recover from running up the stairs in heels. "Danzō's been fired from the board of directors!"

There was a stunned silence.

"How did that happen?" Naruto exclaimed, but before Sakura could answer he jumped up from his seat with a whoop. Sasuke couldn't blame him: he had himself always loathed the sleazy man.

And he might or might not have let several nasty comments drop in the right ears after a certain interview between the man and a blond musician Sasuke was getting to know well.

Being lead violinist in an orchestra definitely had its perks.

"I don't know, but that's not all," Sakura went on, and Naruto was back on his seat in a second, leaning forward like the worst gossiper ever born, with the whole weight of his upper body resting on his hands gripping the front of his seat between his parted legs. "They decided not to do things by halves and to change the composition of the board drastically."

She let a fair amount of seconds pass to make sure the suspense was at its highest then explained, sure of the effect her words were going to have:

"They're calling back the Terrible Three to constitute the head of the board."

By now, Sasuke and Naruto were gaping.

"Tsunade'll keep her place as our conductor, of course, but she'll also have a role in decision making and-"

"The old hag on the decision board?" Naruto exclaimed with a wince, then raised his eyes to the ceiling and heaven beyond as he miserably added: "Get ready for some Wagner, guys."

Sasuke felt a twitch at the corner of his left eye. He liked Wagner. It had... magnitude. "Well, at least it'll be better than the contemporary monstrosities your mentor'll try and make us play," he declared, crossing his arms.

"Because the works of some composer of obscure repute from the seventeenth or eighteenth century your former teacher will make a point of imposing to us are so much better," Sakura chirped with a spark of cynical amusement at the bottom of her eyes. It disappeared though and the urgency came back to her face as she looked right at Naruto.

"But there is more: Naruto, they intend to appoint your father as an honorary member!"

All expression left the blond violist's face. He stopped breathing and paled so much that Sasuke feared for a second that he would faint. But then he gasped abruptly and shook his head, but not in denial:

"He doesn't know about this," he whispered, voice faint but steadily rising as he went on: "I hope he doesn't know about this because if he knew and didn't call to tell me-"

"You stole my news."

Three heads turned. Sai had appeared in the doorway and was pouting slightly, directing his most heated glare (which was nothing but a light glower on Sasuke's scale) at Sakura.

Sakura unexpectedly stuck her tongue out at him, crossing her legs and interlacing her fingers over her knee. "I did," she confirmed shamelessly, then finished her report with a decisive nod: "They're supposed to start right this September after we're back from summer camp, just in time for the winter season."

"Speaking of summer camp," Sai perked up, grudge already forgotten, his eerie smile slipping back onto his lips as if out of reflex. "Here is the actually most important piece of news."

Naruto's eyes grew as big as saucers.

"You know where it takes place!" he exclaimed, gripping his seat so tight his knuckles turned white. "Where?"

Sai's smile was even showing some teeth now. He was getting better. "Mount Myōboku."

Naruto's expression turned from expectant to crestfallen. "What, no beach?" he complained.

"It was Jiraiya's stipulation for accepting the job offered to him," Sai explained, index finger raised in the air. "Also, it's been extended to four weeks instead of three."

He probably thought it would be some sort of consolation.

"Moron," Sasuke snorted, arms still crossed. "Humidity is the worst thing for wooden instruments. Now what is a viola made out of?"

Naruto rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, Uchiha," he said, pushing Sasuke at the shoulder. "You're just happy we won't get to see just how skinny you are under that uptight suit of yours."

Piqued, Sasuke glowered at him: "That you'd be an exhibitionist on the other hand doesn't come as a surprise."

He didn't admit to himself that he was feeling relieved... and just that little bit disappointed.


Thing was, Danzō's dismissal was actually a hard blow for Sai, something they all discovered as soon as they started a piece and the man turned out to be unable to play his part as he normally would.

It was even blander than his worst smile and than what he'd done at the beginning of the year, as if all the work Sasuke had had them do had been no use. Luckily Naruto and Sakura were here to slowly and carefully draw stilted explanations out of him and Sasuke only had to refrain from ostentatiously champing the bit and from chowing the cellist's arms off in frustration and resentment.

It turned out that Danzō had been the one to choose Sai when he was barely more than a teenager and fresh out of the Music Academy. He'd propelled him forward until he'd reached the place of cellist in Konoha's orchestra sooner that should've been possible. Sasuke was feeling petty enough to sullenly think that it was another proof of the former manager's lack of judgement and taste - whereas Naruto and Sakura mused that it almost, almost, made him go up in their esteem. Of one millimeter or two. At least.

But they couldn't let things go on that way. Danzō might have been a great help in Sai's career, they all agreed that he had never been what you would call a good man, even less a good manager. Plus it was imperative that the cellist pull himself together and became able to play correctly (in Sasuke's eyes) again as soon as possible.

So they took him out to explain things to him and 'make him see the light', as Naruto put it.

Sai did, after the third glass of wine.

It appeared he didn't hold his liquor that well and was very pliant when drunk. It also appeared he took everything you said to him in a serious voice as an absolute truth he'd remember and most of all believe even once he had sobered up.

Naruto had a lot of fun with that one.


"Ugh, let me die," Naruto groaned as he collapsed onto one of the small couches their changing room was equipped with.

Sasuke glanced at him from where he was standing, talking in low voices with Tsunade to determine what they were going to say to the orchestra in their post-concert review. The series of musical events preceding the beginning of summer always was pretty demanding and exhausting. He was worried for a second that Naruto had overdone it. He tended to get carried away by his own enthusiasm.

But from the way he had to massage his neck, all along wincing and whining, it was clear that at least half of it was just for show.

Sakura came to stand in front of him, face scrunched up in a scowl and a pout.

"Move," she growled, feebly kicking the blond violist in the shin.

Naruto whimpered and barely scooted over by a centimeter or two. Sakura hadn't the patience to wait any longer and fell down onto the seat beside him with a grunt, not caring that they were touching from shoulder to knee.

"Tired," she mumbled, whole sentences now beyond her. "Sore."

"Want a massage?" Naruto asked faintly, not moving an inch.

"No," was Sakura's immediate reply. Eyes narrowed, she went on: "I know you. If you give me one then you're going to want one too and my fingers are so not up for it..."

Sitting on a chair not so far away, Sai looked about ready to fall asleep leaning against his cello case.

Sasuke decided he would put an end to their misery and cleared his throat to attract everyone's attention. Tsunade straightened up and crossed her arms in that intimidating way of hers.

Sasuke made sure they were all looking at him, then began to talk.


Naruto had recovered a bit when the orchestra finally parted. He waved enthusiastically at several of his colleagues and even chatted lively with some of them.

Sasuke wondered if it was because he'd fallen asleep during half of the review, only listening when stringed instruments were concerned.

He knew he should've been harsher.

He made sure he had all his things and picked up his violin case.

"See you at the station, bastard!" Naruto hollered in his ear. Grinning, he avoided the fist Sasuke swept at him and scampered away to join Gaara Sabaku who was calmly waiting for him at the entrance. For a second the redhead's eyes and Sasuke's met, then the violist turned away to leave.

Sasuke felt himself frown.

He'd never liked the guy anyway.


TBC


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