As I was reading some of your lovely reviews (hint hint…) I realized I forgot something in the last chapter.
But none of you really thought I owned Naruto, did you?
"Live Life with No Regrets"
Sasuke missed catching the same elevator as Naruto by an instant. The blond had shouted something about a time crunch and a record before slamming the "Door Close" button, leaving the Uchiha doomed to either take the stairs or be late for his first photo shoot with Icha Icha Fashion.
Suddenly, Uzumaki Naruto was very, very, annoying.
Slightly winded and covered in a thin layer of sweat from running down so many stairs swathed in so many layers of "pure fashion genius," Sasuke leaned against the door to Set Three in a last minute attempt to maintain the infamous Uchiha cool. Once certain he was suitably aloof, Sasuke opened the door. Instantly a spotlight snapped on, blinding him, and he threw up his arms to shield his abused eyes.
A rapidly clicking told him the photographer, at least, was somewhere behind this childish assault.
"Good, good. See, Naruto? That's real surprise, real passion! This is why the ladies love him. Even pissed as hell he's simply gorgeous!" Ebisu ranted, finally dimming the lights and allowing Sasuke to see. Behind the strange looking photographer, a silver stool sat empty, and beyond it, a small urban block seemed to have been recreated. False brick walls were tagged with graffiti, the stone worn by years of weather. A rusted fire escape snaked up the side of one, barely attached by bolts more oxide than iron.
In short, the set was perhaps the most realistic thing Sasuke had seen.
Ebisu settled on the stool, pushing his glasses back up his nose and adjusting them. Naruto whispered something that Sasuke couldn't quite make out, which made Ebisu flush and adjust his glasses again. The pair continued to stare at him. Sasuke unleashed the Uchiha glare.
Damn those piercing eyes…could he see something beyond the façade? Sasuke unconsciously adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, making sure his wrists were fully covered, then tugged down the hem too. What did Itachi tell them?
"You're in my chair, Ebisu." Kakashi placed a gloved hand on the other's shoulder. No one had seen him enter, and all three jumped as he spoke. Kakashi inwardly congratulated himself on a sufficiently dramatic entrance.
"Kakashi-sensei! I'm sorry…I was just…meeting Uchiha Sasuke."
"In my chair. Well, Now that we all know each other, let's get on with it. Sasuke, Naruto?
"Oh, Sauske, my name is Hatake Kakashi. This is my set. They are all my sets. On set, I am god. Off set, I am a simple genius. You can call me Kakashi. You do as I say, we'll get along just great. Screw with me and not even the Hyuuga Investigators will be able to find your dead body. "
Sasuke and Naruto both froze in midstep and stared at Kakashi, eyes wide with shock. With almost inhuman speed, Kakashi grabbed his camera and snapped a photo.
"Damn if that won't make a great Christmas card." Kakashi smiled broadly, eyes turning into thin crescents. Once again a vest obscured the lower part of his face, leaving much of his expression to the all too vivid imaginations of the teens. More than a little discomfited, the pair made their way to the set and proceeded to loaf awkwardly. Naruto leaned against a fake fire escape, careful not to rest too much of his weight on the structure just in case the bolts weren't quite secure. Sasuke tucked his hands in his pockets and slouched, looking bored.
"Really? Is that the best you've got?" Kakashi snapped a half dozen photos, then reviewed them on his tablet.
Shot 1: Sasuke scowling at his feet, Naruto's eyes closed, neither looking at the camera.
Shot 2: Sasuke starts to look up, Naruto starts to scratch his head.
Shot 3: Sasuke unleashes the death glare. Naruto continues scratching.
Shot 4: The glare intensifies. Naruto begins to open his eyes.
Shot 5: If looks could kill, Kakashi would be the victim of quadruple homicide. Naruto smiles.
Shot 6: Sasuke rolls his eyes. Naruto laughs.
"If this is the best you can do, Mr. Uchiha, I'm afraid you aren't going to be long for the world of Icha Icha fashion."
"Hn."
"Oi! Kakashi-sensei! You haven't even told us what you want yet. Don't give him such a hard time. Besides, he's a newbie. You can't expect that much."
"It's my first day here, dobe. Not my first time modeling. I've done more shoots than you've drawn breaths." Sasuke suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Again.
"Hey, teme, you're the dobe. Making Kakashi-sensei angry on the first day."
"Ladies! You're both pretty, now quiet down and let Kakashi work." Iruka intervened before Kakashi could make good on his threat of murder.
"Well, seasoned professionals like you shouldn't have any problems getting the shots I want. This week's theme is more of an edgy street fight. So, fight." Kakashi's eyes crinkled again.
"Naruto! Don't hurt Uchiha-san!"
"Hai. I'll try not to." Before Sasuke could wonder what Iruka meant by the warning, Naruto took a swing at his face. Sasuke dodged reflexively, but Naruto swung wide deliberately. So that's his game, Sasuke thought. Shadow boxing. Getting into the spirit, he "fought" back, angling his attacks so that, from Kakashi's vantage, it looked genuine.
As if from a distance, Sasuke heard Kakashi muttering, Iruka's muffled comments, and Ebisu's scandalized gasps, but all sound faded beneath the rushing of his own blood. Even false, something about fighting Naruto took hold of Sasuke and he lost himself in the feeling. Without thinking he grabbed Naruto's fist as the blond punched. Sasuke twisted the captured arm down and used it to leverage the blond back against one of the fake brick walls.
For an instant, their bodies were flush from chest to thigh, their faces millimeters apart. Sasuke could feel the planes of Naruto's chest against his, the blond's hot breath on his lips. His heart hammering against his ribs added t the sound of rushing blood in his ears, and his field of vision narrowed until the only thing in his conscious was Naruto.
An instant later, the moment shattered as Naruto swore and escaped the hold by throwing Sasuke against the opposite wall of the pseudo alley, knocking the wind from him. Sasuke glared up at him, while Naruto smiled triumphantly.
XxXxXxX
That week's cover featured an incredible shot of Sasuke flying backwards through the air, his back arched in a way that suggested both grace and power. His face angled slightly towards the camera, and his eyes held a menace that suggested the fight was far from over. Even the shape of his hands implied a hidden strength. Near the bottom of the frame, Naruto was following through with the attack. With his back to the camera, the muscles of his torso outlined in the contours of his shirt, the blond seemed an oasis of strength. Despite the absence of his charming face, the picture still radiated Naruto's self-assurance, and showcased a tougher side of the model that had the fan girls melting.
Ultimate Clash: Uzumaki v. Uchiha
"In the ultimate showdown, world renowned Uchiha Sasuke met Icha Icha's Uzumaki Naruto in a full out, drop down, standoff. Will this spell the end for what could have been the most powerful modeling duo ever to step in front of the lens?"
Jiraya let the issue fall to his desk with an exaggerated sigh. Tsunade glanced up from the paperwork she was pretending to complete and waited for an explanation.
"I thought getting Uchiha on the staff would boost sales, not tabloid columns."
"There's no such thing as bad press. Only favorable and unpalatable."
"That's all well and good, Tsunade, but I don't want this Uchiha interfering with Naruto's career."
"I'm sure Itachi feels the same way about Naruto and Sasuke's career. Don't worry too much yet. Have a drink and see where this goes."
XxXxXxX
The day after the issue went public, Naruto plopped in a chair near the right edge of the lecture hall. With all the experiments the teacher performed, the front row was as dangerous as the splash seats at a Blue Man Group performance, but he wanted to be close enough to see. Shikamaru dozed in the seat next to him, hand still clutching a pencil. A solved integral, complex enough that Naruto couldn't even begin to comprehend it, sprawled across the page in Shikamaru's obsessively small script.
"Oy, Shika. Did you sleep here?" Naruto leaned over and poked the genius in the shoulder.
"Ugh, Naruto? You're not in…ugh. I slept here? What a drag." Shikamaru wiped the sleep from his eyes with the back of his sleeve and sat up.
"What? Was going home too troublesome?"
"Nah, I had to finish this problem before I could leave last night."
"Hey! Naruto! Naruto!" Naruto spun around to face the source. Some of the girls from Icha Icha, Sakura and Ino, were hailing him from the door way. Naruto waved and turned back to Shikamaru.
"So what, you just never left?" He prompted.
"Hey! Naruto!" Sakura shouted.
"Get your sorry ass up here!" Ino added.
"What a drag." Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Go on. I've been here all night, I'll still be here when you get back."
The girls started yelling before he even reached them.
"How dare you hurt Sasuke!" Sakura screeched, fury rolling off her in waves. Ino grabbed Naruto by the arm and shoved him against the nearest wall, heedless of the glassware stored on the built in shelves. Naruto gulped inwardly at the ominous glass clinking, and hoped that the girls didn't get too violent. He didn't relish the idea of pulling glass out of his back, or explaining why he couldn't do the next issue to Kakashi.
"Umm…" he stammered. "I don't really know what you mean, Sakura. Ino."
"This!" The girls slammed the issue into his nose, under the belief that by literally gluing his eyeballs to it, he'd be able to see it better.
"Oh..." Naruto muttered as he pulled the issue to a readable distance. "That."
"Yes, that!" The girls chorused.
"It's just for show. You know, wires, and mirrors, and junk. It's not real. Look at the rest of the film. You'll see. It's just a fake." Naruto lied smoothly, hoping to escape further public upbraiding.
"Then why is Sasuke-kun hiding? He hasn't been to work in days." Ino whined.
"Umm, I dunno. He hasn't been scheduled?"
Slap!
"If he wasn't scheduled, why was Kakashi-sensei looking for him? Huh?" Sakura attempted to throttle him as she yelled.
"What the hell Sakura?" Naruto pushed her off him, starting to get irritated. "Like I know what Kakashi is thinking any more than you do. Why don't you ask him instead of beating me."
Sakura and Ino paused and exchanged a glance. Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she intended to say was lost to the call of "Hey, Ino! Sakura! Look at this!" A brunette Naruto didn't know came running their way.
"I found…pant…a video…huff huff…like you asked." She sighed, pressing a button on her tablet and angling the screen so they all could see.
On it, in a very tiny, blurry, and virtually useless video showed a dark haired man in a suit pushing his way through a crowd followed by a familiar looking raven haired teen. Said teen sported a black eye and several bruises on his face and neck.
"Naruto!" The last thing the blond saw was a fist heading his way. A hush fell over the room as the sound of breaking glass breached the commotion.
XxXxXxX
Perching in front of his computer, Kakashi studied the film from the first session with Uchiha while he drank his afternoon tea. Alone in his "office," a small room converted into a hybrid darkroom/lounge/photo editing software heaven, he slung his vest carelessly over the back of a chair. Blowing gently on the steaming tea before taking the first sip, he scrolled through the thumbnails.
Most of the early shots were unusable, and a full quarter of the film was wasted, blurred pictures taken by Ebisu before the models even arrived on set. Silently vowing to strangle him, Kakashi advanced to the last fifty shots. Setting the viewer to "slideshow," he amused himself by letting the pictures change automatically, and watched the boys shift from obviously fake punches to a genuine brawl in slow-motion stop action.
Every few frames he paused and enlarged Sasuke's face to study the range of expressions, learning exactly what his new tool could do. At first, obvious confusion clouded the endless obsidian eyes of fan girls' dreams, but that quickly faded into confidence and self-assurance as he caught on. Then the fight devolved into actual fisticuffs, and everything changed.
Kakashi paused on the one shot where Sasuke had Naruto pinned against the fire escape, practically nose to nose, and felt a smile growing on his face.
"Itachi, you cunning bastard."
XxXxXxX
Naruto slumped on the common room couch, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his face. Shikamaru sprawled across the rest of the cushions, his feet stretching above Naruto's lap to rest on the arm, head resting on his crossed forearms. They had maintained the same position for the better part of an hour, and Naruto's peas were melted beyond any degree of usefulness.
"So she really hit you. And the video wasn't even recent." Shikamaru drawled, chewing on a toothpick.
"What!" Naruto started forward, disrupting Shikamaru's repose and forcing him to sit up.
"Yeah. That video you saw is from almost a year ago."
Naruto fell back with a groan and was rewarded with pea-sweat in his bruised eye. Cursing, he leapt to his feet, alternating rubbing his eye and wincing at the pain of touching it.
"Shit. What happened to you blondie?" Kiba paused en route to his dorm and ogled the enormous black and blue mark marring Naruto's left eye. "You look like shit."
"Thanks, dog breath. I'm fine. No, no permanent damage done."
"Would you two dispense with the arguing? You're so troublesome." Shikamaru flopped back down on the couch, leaving Naruto no room to sit.
"What happened?" Kiba asked, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Are you going to be okay for this weekend?" Kiba served as Naruto's training partner cum coach for his mixed Martial Art tournaments. Though he lacked personal experience, Kiba's father was quite successful, and he had grown up around the sport. Blood, missing teeth, broken bones, and all.
"Yeah. But it's not the tournament I'm worried about. Ero-Sennin is gonna kill me when he sees this." Naruto collapsed into one of the adjacent chairs.
"Shit. That shoot's this weekend too?"
"Yep. All day Saturday."
"Sometimes Icha Icha can be such a drag."
"You're just mad 'cause all you ever get to wear is the business suits." Kiba taunted.
"'Cause I really wanted to run around shirtless with you clowns. Under those lights? I don't think so." Shikamaru closed his eyes and folded his hands across his chest.
"Any hope of you getting out of it?" Kiba continued.
"None. It's the annual shoot. It has to come out next week or Jiraya will murder me twice. Plus, have you seen Kakashi angry?"
"No."
"Well I have." Naruto shuddered, recalling the memory.
In the early days, before the high rise building, before the basement studios, and before Kakashi had unlimited access to cameras, Naruto did the stupidest thing he could have possibly done. While showing off some of his "awesome new moves" he landed a roundhouse kick straight into the lens of Kakashi's baby, a camera he called "Pakkun."
It toppled from the stand and shattered into dozens of pieces of broken glass, cracked plastic, and a pair of thumbnail sized lithium batteries. The echos of the cataclysm died as the door closed behind Kakashi. With a speed Naruto hadn't known the man possessed, Kakashi crossed the room and cradled the wreckage, heedless of the sharp edges and shards. Kakashi's eyes narrowed into a glare, and Naruto would later swear that storm clouds covered in streaks of lightning formed behind him.
"You…" Kakashi intoned.
Without waiting for further reaction, Naruto bolted, running from Jiraya's garage like the hounds of hell were upon him. He made certain to stay as far away as possible from Kakashi's subsequent cameras, especially the one named "Obito."
"It isn't pretty." Naruto concluded with a shudder.
"Come on, there's a steak in my fridge with your name on it, Naruto. Peas aren't going to get you anywhere near getting rid of that shiner.
XxXxXxX
"Well, Sasuke, what have you got to say for yourself?"
"…"
"Answer me, Sasuke!"
Click.
Sasuke let the cellphone slide out of his hand and drop to the bed before he slammed his head against the wall.
"Ughh." He sighed.
"Rough day?" Itachi appeared in the doorway, hands covered in flour though the rest of him was immaculate. Though typical for Itachi, it somehow irritated Sasuke further.
"I told him you wouldn't want to talk. Having a picture of your first day plastered on every surface around the world is reproof enough. Especially when you get your sorry butt handed to you."
"Go die, Itachi."
"You first, little brother. It's just a picture."
"How would you like it if some…some dobe lands one lucky shot on you and your reputation was ruined?"
"My legal team would never let a "dobe" land a hit. And in the unlikely event that they failed on that count, I would personally sue the persons responsible for besmirching my name. That is how life works, in my world. That is how Uchiha Itachi handles problems. Is this how Uchiha Sasuke does it? Moping in bed and whining?"
"Go die, Itachi."
"The cake in the oven would not appreciate me doing that."
"My career is over, and you're making a cake? Sadistic bastard."
"No, you've hit a rough patch and I'm making a cake to celebrate your impending solution. Think about it. You have forty-five minutes."
Sasuke glared at him and rolled his eyes.
"And how the hell am I supposed to solve this? I can't make the picture go away."
"Nope. Making the picture disappear is definitely out of the question." Itachi sat on the corner of the bed, his levity evaporating. "But look at the situation beyond the picture. You got your sorry ass handed to you by a blond supermodel."
"Male model. Don't make me out to be a total loser."
"See? It could have been worse. The man kicking your ass could be someone other than the reigning mixed martial arts semi-professional champion."
"What?" Sasuke sat up and stared at Itachi.
"I swear, if you're lying—"
"Uzumaki Naruto competes at the semi-professional level in mixed martial arts. He is the reigning champion of his division. He also attends the college here, the one in which you shall enroll shortly, majoring in…Kinesthesia and Physics."
"Kinesthesia?"
"It's the applied study of how the human body moves and functions at the physical level. Generally, it's the foundation for sports medicine."
"Hn."
"Your dobe also graduated high school at the top of his class, despite several lengthy hospitalizations for a chronic illness of an indeterminate nature."
"How do you know all this?" Sasuke interrupted, suddenly nervous. School records were one thing, but medical records were confidential, almost impossible to access.
"So, back to your problem. Knowing all this, suddenly, it isn't so embarrassing to be beaten by him." Itachi fixed his strongest 'And you were worried this would destroy your career you silly insecure kid' smile on Sasuke and waited.
"You didn't answer my question."
"No. I didn't, did I. Oh well." Itachi stood and headed for the door, crossing the small room in a few strides.
"What would you do, in my position?" Sasuke blurted. Itachi stopped in the door way and thought for a moment before glancing back over his shoulder, not even a hint of the elation he felt gracing his lips. Sometimes manipulating Sasuke was too easy.
"In your place, I would join the dojo down the street and get back in fighting form."
"I can't just waltz back into that life. It's been five years, Itachi. "
The elder Uchiha stared pointedly at Sasuke's wrists, hidden within his long sleeved shirt, while answering.
"Yes Sasuke, it has been five years. And life goes on."
"Itachi—" A timer in the en suite kitchen cut him off.
"Ah, that'll be the cake. Come on, it's best when it's warm." Itachi beckoned before disappearing around the corner.
By the time Sasuke got to the kitchen, Itachi had rescued the cake from the oven and was in the process of freeing it from the pan. Once the dessert was free, Sasuke couldn't help but stare.
"That's not cake." In fact, the only resemblance the thing bore to a cake was a vaguely circular shape, and the way Itachi was slicing it. At best, it was a demented cousin of the turnover crossbred with the lovechild of pie and soufflé. As Itachi cut, layers of fillings were revealed, separated by layers of pastry of varying thicknesses. It was a work of art, and rather disturbing.
"Do you have a better descriptor?"
"Hn."
"That's what I thought. Now shut up and eat your cake."
"Is this one of those things you learned in Barcelona? When you disappeared for a year?"
"No. I learned this in Paris, from —a friend."
"Right."
"Shut up, and eat." The brothers fell into companionable silence, the only sounds the clinking of cutlery and their chewing.
"Sometimes, you're an idiot." Sasuke said abruptly.
"Then enlighten me. Why?" Itachi shot back between bites, eyes locked in his "no nonsense or I'll beat the answer I want out of you" stare.
"I can't just forget it. I can't go back to who I used to be. I'm not that Sasuke anymore."
"Good. That Sasuke was part of the reason I left." Itachi continued eating. Sasuke leapt to his feet and hurled his plate at Itachi's head. The elder Uchiha avoided it easily by leaning slightly to the left, and it shattered on the cabinets behind him. Sasuke stormed into the bed room and slammed the door. With a sigh, Itachi stared at the closed door for a long moment before turning his attention to the mess spattered across his cabinets and floor. The broken edges of the plate managed to damage the varnish and chip the wood underneath. Itachi mentally added sandpaper and varnish to his "To Do" list.
"This, Sasuke, is the reason I came back. I have no regrets." Itachi continued, addressing the empty room. "None."
XxXxXxXxX
A/N: After subjecting my testing audience to this chapter (thank you!), I felt adding a slight disclaimer would help to clarify something and avoid angering a lot of you. Sasuke isn't cutting himself. The scars are from something else. He's not the stereotypical emo depressed kid that he frequently becomes in stories like this. Something seriously traumatic happened to him at the height of his career, and he's still not over it. So. Save your flames for marshmallows if they were regarding that. Otherwise, bring on the fire. (Which is not to encourage you to…I'm rambling again, aren't I?. Never mind.) Sorry to ruin what I'm sure would have been several really, really good rants.
Oh! If you have a request for a specific photo shoot theme/location I'll try to incorporate it. I'm open to suggestions. I've gotten one so far for a preppy/ polo shirts and upper class causal wear shoot of undetermined location. Be as vague or specific (I like nonspecific details) as you wish. Sign in, be anonymous. Whatever slices your banana. So. Till next time!
Reviews make me happy. Happy me makes chapters. Chapters need reviews.
See where this is going?