Here's a profound metaphor: This story is like a mountain for me to climb. By the time I am done, I expect chocolate chip cookies with almonds on my front porch. I kid you not.
This chapter got a lot of reworking done, and I think I'm satisfied with it. If any of you remember the original, tell me which you like better... Enjoy and remember feedback means free hugs.
The bridge I crossed
The Third
I looked at myself one last time in the mirror, flinching when I heard Shikamaru growl. "You look fine. You're going to work, not to seduce your boss."
"But still." I didn't want to go up to that Uchiha Bastard looking like a complete fool. I would have to make amends for my stupidity before.
"Naruto." His voice held warning, and I took heed of it. So, I gave one last look at myself. My hair was spiked as usual, there was nothing I could do about that. And my outfit was business: normal white, full-sleeved, button down shirt, a navy blue tie, the usual gray suit, just a shade lighter because dark colors don't look good on me according to Kiba, and the same colored pants. I looked ridiculously old, and told Shikamaru as much, whining a little about it. Maybe you should go to work with a bib on, he offered. I couldn't even attempt a laugh, and instead, followed Shikamaru out.
He graciously suggested that he would drive me there, and I accepted. I didn't know what to make of all that happened, and remained silent the rest of the ride to my work, trying to figure out a way to phrase my introduction. I could feel the blush coming upon me again when I realized that I would have to face all the workers who witnessed my outburst. I should have rejected Kakashi's offer--fifteen percent raise or not. This embarassment was not worth the money.
When Shikamaru stopped at the same place the taxi driver had, he lingered a moment or two to make sure that I was all right before leaving. I watched him leave this time, hoping to delay my confrontation. After a few minutes, I steeled myself and walked through the doors, this time under more control. The lobby was a bit more crowded, and I noted with a moment's pride that I was on time. There were a few people already waiting for the elevator, and I joined the mass, hoping that it would come down soon, and feeling the pit in my stomach grow deeper and deeper by the minute. Not a single person said a word to me.
When I finally got on the elevator, someone at the front asked the floors that people wanted to be dropped of at. Someone before me had already mentioned '9', so I let it be. I felt a sense of alarm when someone else said '6', thinking they might recognize me. But they didn't. Maybe the Uchiha Bastard had sent out a staff-wide memo that no one speak of the incident. Maybe. Or maybe not.
Slowly, the elevator emptied, and by the time I was stepping out onto the ninth floor, there was only one man beside me. He considered me before a while, before he spoke. "Uzumaki Naruto, right?" I felt my throat close up in embarassment, so I nodded. "Yakushi Kabuto. I was there when you fainted."
"Oh--yeah," I forced a smile on my face, and prayed that the elevator stopped. It did, at the sixth floor. Kabuto got out, but lingered by the door to chat a little.
"So, what happened? You were pale the entire time, and then the next thing you know. Flop. You were on your face." I told him that I was suffering from a very high fever then, that I was hallucinating because of the affect and strain. "Oh," he looked sincerely sorry, and I felt a pang lying to him, but I knew that I had to do so to preserve what little reputation I had. "Well, you should probably go and see Uchiha now. He's on the ninth floor."
I nodded gratefully and watched as the elevator doors closed on his retreating figure. When it stopped again on the ninth floor, my jaw dropped at the view. The elevator opened directly into a large, rectangular waiting room. There was a desk at the far end for the secretary--a big desk, I realized with a smile--a few seats, artfully placed paintings. But the best part of the entire setting were the glass windows spanning an entire wall, directly across from my seat. I could see all of Tokyo's business downtown from my seat, watch the sun rise to its full height and descend again. The boss might not be so nice, I realized, but the view certainly was.
With each step towards the UB's door, I reminded myself over and over again that this was a temporary job, a stepping stone between now and grad school. I had stalled my last year in college, not sure of what I wanted to do, and now, here I was. The best student, the youngest, from Japan's most prestigious university, and I was to be a secretary. For five weeks.
Scowling, I knocked. Twice.
The minute the sound died out, I panicked, thinking that I had knocked too many times. Did people usually knock once? Twice? Was I supposed to knock four times? I didn't have too much time to sort out the answer because there was a muted "come in," and I was pushing the door open even before I had time to collect my breath.
When I was inside, I made a point to look at my hand holding the door knob as I closed the door behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled--he was looking at me. Staring at me, even. I could hear my breath, feel my own pulse. I looked up--I couldn't stare at the door knob for the rest of the meeting--and then my heart, I think, stopped beating. No more lub, dubs. Just silence. Orochimaru was right. He wasn't joking when he said that the Uchiha Bastard was handsome.
His suit was draped casually over the back of his chair. He had rolled up his white shirt, unbuttoned the top buttons, loosened his tie, and his hair looked a little unkempt, looking as if he'd spent the entire night working. But his eyes--deep, dark, and uncannily bright. Even in his seat, I could tell that he was tall, over six feet, broad shouldered. I could see the ridge of his collar bone, angling down into the folds of his shirt. Even from a distance, I knew that under that shirt, he had defined muscles. From my years with Zabuza, I knew, instnatly, the Uchiha knew how to handle himself.
He looked dangerous, like Kakashi, like Orochimaru, even. Something about him made me want to press my back against the door, defend myself against an oncoming attack. You kissed this man, a small thought floated across my mind. I wet my bottom lip at the memory and felt his bite, still healing--remembered how absolutely wild this man was, remembered the feeling of being close to him.
I don't know how long I stood there, looking at him, and him calmly regarding me, pen still in hand. It was the phone that finally interrupted the silence in the room. He picked it up, answered it with a few spaced out 'hms,' an 'all right,' and then 'fine' before hanging up. I blinked once. Then twice before I snapped out of my reverie. Squaring my shoulders, I began: "I-- I'm s--"
"Sorry?" He interrupted me. I fell silent, clenching my fists to control myself. That man was one second away from having his face smashed into pieces.
"Yes." I bit off my word and didn't offer any more. Kakashi had said that the Uchiha had been disgruntled, that he liked the kiss. But standing in front of the him, I could barely detect any hint of emotion.
"I was amused," he said after a while. When I didn't make a move, he said, "You can sit." His eyes flickered towards a set of chairs facing his desk, and I strode over angrily. I was going to quit this instance. Heck, I would rather go and screw on Coke bottle caps. "So, Naruto, was it?"
"Yes."
"You know my name, I'm guessing," he took his eyes of me for a second, and I felt as if someone took off a few hundred pounds of weight.
"Well enough to have come up with a nickname of my own," I muttered under my breath, now that he was no longer scrutinizing me. I didn't mean for him to hear it, but he did, and he raised an aristocratic eyebrow at me.
"Oh, and what is it?"
I bit my tongue, but his eyes told me that silence was not an answer, so I ventured daringly. "You really want to know?"
"Yes, I do, actually." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.
"UB." I grinned, the rational part of me wondering when I'd adopted a suicide mission. There was silence, and then the phone rang. The Uchiha Bastard picked it up, mumbled a "not now" and then hung up instantly.
"I'm guessing its an acronym."
"It actually is." This time I leaned forward and gazed at him critically.
"What does it stand for?" He was enjoying this, I knew, and so was I. So I answered.
"Uchiha," I paused for a second so I could let him anticipate. Then, "Bastard." There was no widening of his eyes, no pursing of his lips, nothing. His face was just as it had been when I first sat down.
"It's daring."
"I thought it was creative."
"To an extent."
"To a full extent." If he was going to fire me, I would go out in a full blaze of colors. He didn't object to me saying that, and answered yet another muted ring from his abominable phone. When he hung up, he turned to his right and punched a few things in his computer, the screen flickering in response, and he did this for a while before he said, still considering the monitor of his thin, monitor, "Our little kiss the other day."
He didn't say anything, and I knew he was holding off the rest of the sentence just to provoke me. So I finished it for him. "Was an accident."
"Really? Didn't seem like it." He looked at me and very pointedly stared. "You healed quickly."
That son of a bitch. I clenched my fist, seeing that my anger was rising again. "Drop it, UB."
"Should I?" He looked at me, momentarily distracted from his monitor, and then looked back. I remained silent, until the Uchiha maneuvered his chair back to face me again.
"I was feverish."
"Oh?"
"Yes," I snapped, "I was." Then, I stood up, and took a deep breath, unable to bear this any longer. He was nothing but a rich, inconsiderate, impolite asshole. "If you're going to behave like this, then I'm leaving." I had taken a step or two away from him, when I heard his whip-like voice.
"Come back here."
I paused in my stride and turned to regard him, my anger acting as an anchor for me. "To hell with you."
"All right," he paused, rolling his shoulders. He yawned, covering his mouth with a fisted hand, as if he was about to cough. "And to you too."
I opened my mouth to say something when I realized the full consequences of my actions. If I did walk out, he could warn my future employees of my attitude. It would most likely lead me to a job-less life. Great. I'd made a wrong move and the Uchiha was entirely aware of this. "Bastard." I resigned and sat back down in front of him.
"So, about your fever," he said. He got up and walked around his table to stand beside me. He leaned against his table, looking down at me. I tilted my head in his direction.
"I was tired from my fever. I was hot."
"You still are." His comment made me blush, and I realized a little too late again that he did it on purpose. To test the waters, to see my reaction, and no doubt, to shred my character to pieces in that twisted little mind of his.
"Same goes to you," I flung it back at him making it sound filthy. He didn't flinch.
"So I've been told."
That little, my nerve snapped again, and I stood up angrily for the second time, knocking the chair over in the process. I glared at him with narrowed eyes. "Fine! You know what? Fine! I don't care anymore. I can't stand you, and the way you act as if something crawled up your ass."
He stared at me, eyes blank. "Fine."
"Fine!" I shot back.
"Fine."
"FINE!" I was close to yelling now. "FINE!" I growled under my breath, opened my mouth to say something else and then shut it with a snap. Fine. I would leave. I would not stand this.
"We've established that. Fine. Now leave. You're dismissed." He pushed himself off his desk and was about to leave when I grabbed him by the collar again. No one dismisses Uzumaki Naruto.
"I won't." I won't?
He stared at me, and opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. I surprised him this time, and I knew it. Finally, he said, "Fine." We stared at each other, and I then I began to feel out of place, too close to the Uchiha bastard. I could not pin-point exactly why I started to blush, but I did. The phone rang, but he ignored it, and continued to look at me.
"Kakashi'll have your directions. I'll call him up." And that was that. I let go of him, and then I was out in the waiting room, breathing heavily as if I had run a mile or two in a matter of a minute.
When I looked back at our confrontation, I realized that it could have been much worse. I could have actually hit the guy and walked out with his blood on my knuckles, or even worse, I could have killed him by stabbing him with one of his pens. Either way, our confrontation was over with, and I realized that I wouldn't have to see him again for a while. Or at least I hoped so.
I went over to my seat and sat down wearily. If I hadn't dashed into the elevator like that, maybe I would not have leaned against the doors, and maybe UB would not have insulted me when I fell backwards. Maybe. And now I was stuck with him with no way out because I could not refuse the job. It would ruin the rest of my plans for the future.
I wished suddenly that I was like Shikamaru and Kiba with a decent, clean life, a goal in their minds, parents for financial support and all that good stuff in the world that I was never privy to. I remembered my childhood, how I was bounced from one foster home to another. I remembered when finally Zabuza took me in, and I was happy then. Haku was the other orphan that Zabuza took in, and in no time the two of us were good friends. I regret doing what Zabuza told me to do, and I hated that life I led, living in a well kept apartment above the bar in Tokyo. I'd been able to hear all the shouts, whoops of laughter, the blaring music that made the floor of the apartment shake. And then that one night Zabuza had killed Gato, the short man with a strange haircut.
That night, the bar had been closed. Zabuza must have planned everything out, down to the last detail. But it was a sloppy job. His alibi hadn't stuck, the MPD had been waiting for an opportunity, and two days later, the sirens had come blaring to a halt in front of our bar and Zabuza had been taken away. Haku and I had been left alone for a year, and in that time span, I ruined everything between us. I placed a hand over my stomach where my tattoo was, my ears filled with the siren noise that the police cars made. I closed my eyes against the memories, hoping that they would fade away.
When Kakashi came in, he took me by surprise, touching me lightly on the shoulder. "You look pale," he said without bothering with the preliminaries. "You okay?"
I nodded my head, my mouth suddenly dry. "I met with the Uchiha," I said finding nothing else to say.
"Oh? And what do you think?" Kakashi asked. He leaned against my desk the way Uchiha had, and I looked towards the door that separated me from the Uchiha Bastard.
"I think he's a load of crud," I muttered a little darkly.
"You'll get used to it--"
"I don't think I need to get used to him," I said quickly.
"You can't change him," Kakashi said. He pushed himself off of the edge of my desk using the heels of his palms, and looked down at me. "Sasuke's like that. I know you might not like the way he is, but we can't do anything to change it."
I heaved a sigh and nodded in resignation. Why did Kakashi put up with the brat anyways? Orochimaru had said they were friends, but still..."Fine. The UB said that--"
"UB?" Kakashi's arched an eyebrow in mild interest. "A nickname already?"
"Uchiha Bastard," I explained. "I think it's creative. UB doesn't."
"You told him?" Kakashi sounded incredulous and I tilted my head to catch his expression, but his face showed nothing.
"Yeah, I told him."
"He was okay with it?" His cross-examination was starting to annoy me, but I forced myself to answer his questions.
"He didn't say anything."
Kakashi muttered something under his breath, and looked at me for a second before motioning at my computer. "Fine then, I'll tell you what you have to do." And he did. He began with a detailed description of my job. I listened half-heartedly. It was an easy job--managing the UB's schedule, his calls, and the like. Apparently, he had several other secretaries scattered around the office. I was the one with direct access to him. A Yamanaka Ino, among others. How, I wondered, did I even get this job? I had applied out of boredom, almost. A job like this, with a man like Uchiha, required past experience, but here I was.
Most of the time, I realized, I would be bored. I would have to find a way to distract myself. I contemplated the wisdom of playing tic-tac-toe on Uchiha Corps letter heads. "...the hard part is dealing with Sasuke's more personal needs..." He trailed off as if in search for words, and in those few milliseconds, I snapped awake.
"A girl named Sakura might call in often, but turn her down one way or the other, except when she says its important. If she gets too insistent, direct her to Sasuke. Don't ask him before you do this, though, he'll say no and block any directed calls from you, and you'll have to deal with Sakura by yourself."
"A sister?"
Kakashi chuckled and shook his head. "Fiancé."
I stared mutely at him. The UB was engaged? To a woman. "Engaged?" My voice was strained. I felt alarmed. Kakashi nodded. "Does she know? This Sakura I mean. Does she know that I accidentally...uh..." Made out with her future husband? In public? On the office floor? That he bit me?
"Kissed him? Yes. Most people know, Naruto." Kakashi said quietly. "So if she's a bit mean to you--don't take it personally. You need to understand how she feels about all this." Kakashi sounded fond of this Sakura--maybe that was why Kakashi was nice to the Uchiha. Someone he cared about was marrying the UB--so I nodded in understanding. He looked pleased with my response.
"Well, that's all then. Good luck."
I felt as if I was trapped, and watched Kakashi walk towards the elevator and disappeared out of sight. It looked like it would be a boring day--and from what Kakashi told me, access to Sasuke was limited. There were an army of corporate officials peppered in the building, and Sasuke the lord of it all. I was just about to sit back in my chair and relax, maybe start a game of tic-tac-toe or even the day's crossword, when the phone rang. I picked up the ear piece and cleared my throat.
"Uchiha Sasuke's office, Uzumaki Naruto."
"So you're the person who kissed Sasuke." It was Sakura, there was no doubt about it.
My mind clicked into action. "It was an accident, ma'am. I'm really sorry. I wasn't feeling well, and was a bit dizzy and it was just a series of unfortunate events. I'm really sorry." I put in a guilty laugh.
"Whatever, just give the line to Sasuke."
I wanted to put her through, just to spite the UB, but instead did what Kakashi told me to do. "He's busy right now, on the phone with someone else that I just re-directed. I'll let him know that you called, so he can get back to you." My voice was softer than usual, the way I used to speak whenever I was in the bar. There was silence, and then she finally consented to my idea.
"Thank you," she said grudgingly.
"You're welcome." She hung up and I gave myself a mental pat on the back for my success with the woman. I wondered momentarily if she was beautiful, but then I heard another ring and I answered the phone, my patience already gone. This was not what a Kyoto University Graduate does. I picked up the phone, was ready to identify myself, but then I heard a stern, "Get over here."
So, I stood up grudgingly, putting away the ear-piece. Inside, I lingered at the door, bored and slightly offended that the UB hadn't even bothered to say my name or even a 'please'. So, I voiced my thoughts. "Next time, make sure to say my name and 'please', UB."
The Uchiha glanced up at me, but looked back down to the papers onto his desk.
"Your fiancé called," I informed him.
"Huh," he muttered, still writing something. Why didn't he want to talk to her? Kakashi seemed to like her--maybe there was a love triangle, I thought, grinning at the idea. This job would be much more interesting than I'd anticipated.
"You should respect her some more, UB, if you want to have a successful marriage." My advice made him look up momentarily, and he motioned for me to sit down again, so I did. Oddly enough, we were on better grounds now.
"Are you married?" He asked. I was surprised at this question--didn't he know? Couldn't he tell that I wasn't interested in...he seemed like he knew--and I shook my head 'no'.
"So how would you know what it takes to make a marriage a success?" He demanded. I saw that he was angry, but I countered it with my own.
"It's called common sense. Maybe if you talked to her once in a while, she would be happy. You know, you're not the only one with feelings in this world."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, really," I retorted. "And what's with this marriage anyways? Is it one-sided or something like that?"
He shot a glare at me before returning to his papers. "My marriage is my concern and none of yours," he said.
"Out of curiosity, was it arranged?" I couldn't keep my mouth shut to save my soul. The Uchiha put his pen down with a sharp click, and sat back to consider me. When I cocked my head, he seemed to realize that I was not asking for an answer, I was demanding one.
"It was. My marriage is only to produce heirs for the Clan." I grimaced at his coldness towards such a thing. Kiba told me only last night not to throw something away like that so flippantly, and I repeated what Kiba said to me.
"It's special, you know. Something like that. You shouldn't throw it away so easily." The last phrase I' quoted Kiba word for word, and I was happy that I did. I hated the UB, but I didn't hate the Sakura girl. The Uchiha raised an eyebrow at me again, and I wondered how he did it without disturbing any other part of his face. It was a perfect motion: he was aristocratic down to the very bones in his body. I never had a liking for the rich and rude. "Why did you call me?"
He pushed a file across the desk. "Get these over to Kakashi, I want them hand-delivered. Make dinner reservation for four at Baku's at seven, the table overlooking their gardens. Let Natsumi know that I'll drive myself and I want the lamborghini. I sent Neji a message that we'd have a press conference sometime this week about the merger. If his secretary makes an appointment, run it by me before fitting it into my schedule."
I stared at him, wondering if he'd give me any more orders. He did. "Leave a message at my loft for Eiji and tell him that I want clothes sent over. When the suit gets here, bring it in with a cup of coffee, black, one cream, and half a spoon of sugar. I want to go over my schedule for tomorrow at twelve thirty."
I took the papers a little hesitantly. These go to Kakashi's, I repeated in my head. I had to take them myself. "That's all," the Uchiha muttered, and turned away to the computer. But where exactly was Kakashi? And how exactly was I supposed to find him if I didn't know. I stared at the Uchiha, hoping he'd offer some help. A moment passed, and slowly, the Uchiha turned to me. "I said, that's all."
I rolled my eyes. "I heard, UB. I was just wondering. Where's Kakashi?"
He was silent for a while, and I began to wonder if he'd act the way he did when we first met. Maybe he'd refuse to help me again. "Sixth floor," he said, finally, taking me by surprise.
I smiled at him. He was learning. "Thank you," I said, placing unnecessary emphasis on my words. "Now being nice wasn't so hard, was it?"
He stared at me, frowning slightly, sulking, I realized, like a petulant boy. "I'll order lunch, as a reward," I said, smiling still.
"I don't eat l--"
"Miso ramen, from Ichiraku," I cut him off, standing up. "They started delivery service a few weeks ago, and I haven't gotten a chance to call them up yet."
"I don't want ramen," he snapped when I got up to leave.
I was half out the door already when I grinned at him. "Trust me, UB. Everyone wants ramen."
--
Before I left the office, I took a post-it on my desk and scribbled down everything I could remember. He wanted dinner reservations at Baku (did I hear that right?), at a table that looked over some garden somewhere. And a man named Na-smething was supposed to give the Uchiha a lamborghini, and another man named Neji was going to have a press conference about a merger. Someone would talk to me about that, but I wasn't supposed to schedule it. I was supposed to call the Uchiha's loft (and what exactly was that?), leave a message for a man there about getting a new set of clothes. And he wanted coffee. Black, one cream, and half a spoon of sugar. And something about going over his schedule for tomorrow at twelve thirty, which I would have to figure out when the time came.
I found Kakashi easily enough. He was flirting casually with one of the women in the cubicles. When he saw me, he straightened and walked over to greet me. "These," I said, handing the papers over to him, "Are for you."
"Already working you like a slave, huh?" Kakashi mumbled, flipping through the papers.
"Don't worry," I said, "I'm getting paid really well." Kakashi looked up at me, a smile on his face. He had raised my pay by fifteen percent so I would agree to work here. As far as secretarial jobs went, I probably had the best paid position in the city. He was about to say something when I cut him off. "Where does the UB like his coffee?"
Kakashi gave me directions and answered a few more of my questions. Neji, it turned out, was Sasuke's distant cousin, head of PR; Na-somebody was Natsumi, Sasuke's driver, and the person at Sasuke's loft was Eiji. And Baku's was Sasuke's preferred business dinner location. I thanked Kakashi for his help and returned to take care of the rest of my tasks.
It was another half an hour before I had placed all the calls and started on the UB's coffee. By then, his suit had arrived. I made myself a cup as well and made my way back into Sasuke's office, suit draped over one hand. He looked irked when I walked around his table to stand over his shoulder. Reaching down, I placed the coffee in front of him before draping his suit on his chair. "It's been an hour," he snapped, snatching for the coffee.
"Oh, please, stop being so dramatic, UB. It's been half an hour." I sat down and made myself comfortable. "How's the coffee? The decaf in his building's kind of stale so mine's kind of stale." He scoffed, and took a sip before returning to his work, ignoring me. "The ramen should be here in ten," I said, taking a sip of my own coffee. "I ordered miso for the both of us."
He stared at me, angry now. "I don't eat lunch."
"That's not healthy," I said, and without letting him say anything else, stood up. "Now get back to work. We have ten minutes before lunch."
I made my way back to my desk and sat down, checking for any messages, and as if on cue, the phone rang. "Naruto, this is Yoshie, Kakashi's secretary. Could you pencil him in for an appointment at twelve ten with Uchiha?"
"He's actually having lunch then, how about one?"
There was silence on the other end. "Lunch?"
"Yep. One doesn't work?"
"No, it works. It's just--are you sure? Lunch?"
"Pretty sure. Just ordered for the two of us." She agreed to one, and then, just as I was hanging up, the ramen arrived. I tipped the boy generously, told him thank you, and headed in with our food.
"One miso for you," I said, putting a box in front of the UB, "And one for me. Dig in."
He stared at the box as if it was something alien. "I don't--"
"Oh, shut up and eat," I muttered, opening my box. "It's good."
Slowly but surely, Sasuke picked up his chop sticks and ate.
--
"--he was such an," I paused to chew. "Such an idiot," I finished after swallowing. The UB stared at me. "And then, he has the nerve to kick me off the team. But Idate quit too, and everything went downhill from there, so I got reinstated as captain. We lost regionals anyways. It kind of bummed us all out."
It was day six of my job, and so far, the Uchiha and I hadn't gotten into any major fights. Except for the fact that the UB insisted on ordering lunch every other day. So here I was, eating sushi. The phone rang at the Uchiha's desk, and leaning over, I picked it up. I routed all my calls to the UB's office during lunch and it had become a habit now: get through the first half of the day, order lunch, eat lunch in the Uchiha's office, spend a few minutes bickering, and getting through the rest of the day. "Uchiha's office."
"Naruto, could you patch me through to Sasuke?" It was Kakashi, voice pitched low in his office.
"Sure. He's right here."
"Right there?"
"Huh?" I picked up my box of food and realized that something was missing--"Yeah. He's right here."
"Where are you two?"
"In his office..." I swear I had more food just a few minutes ago--
"Eating?"
"Yeah, and--" I looked up to see that the Uchiha was eating one of my dumplings. When had he--"UB, stay away from my dumplings."
"You weren't eating them," the Uchiha snapped.
"Have my sushi, if you're so hungry," I mumbled, giving him my box. He took it.
"Who is it?"
"Kakashi."
He took the phone, glancing at me oddly before digging into my lunch. "Kakashi," he said, around a bite. For all his aristocratic upbringing, the Uchiha talked with his mouthful sometimes. I frowned at him, but he didn't notice. "Yeah, sure. Send it over to Naruto." He hung up and finished eating the rest of the food.
"What?"
"Nothing," he muttered, sounding a little peeved. The Uchiha liked to eat, I realized early on. He had an insatiable appetite, worse than mine even. Sighing, I reached over and dropped my last dumpling in his box."Happy now?"
He prodded at the dumpling a little before taking a bite out of it. "You were talking about your stupid coach," he prompted, mouth full.
--
When I walked into the office on the seventh day, I felt a little anxious. My week was almost over. By all predictions, I was going to be fired today. I'd heard that there was even a betting pool on some of the floors. I spent the first half of the day, flinching every time the Uchiha called me in for something. I was quiet as we went over his schedule, and didn't even say anything when he called me a girl.
"Chinese," the Uchiha said, some hours later. "I want Chinese." This entire ordeal meant nothing to him. I was just another one of his many secretaries for him to hire and fire a week later at his whim. I was nothing to him, I thought bitterly, and the fact that this bothered me, even remotely, angered me even more.
"Order it yourself," I snapped, wondering when he was going to pull the trigger and kick me out. He looked a little puzzled, but picked up the phone anyways. I felt triumphant. The UB ordering his own food, not making someone else do it for him--
"Ino. Order some Chinese food for me and Naruto, would you?"
I threw up my hands and left his room with a loud bang of the door. A few minutes later, the door to his office opened and he came out, looking irked.
"What's wrong with you?" I thought about how to answer his question, but opted instead to finish the email I was typing up. "I said, what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," I snapped.
"If it were nothing, you wouldn't be acting like this, Naruto."
"I wanted pork ramen today, okay? Not Chinese." I breathed out heavily. That was not the reason, but for now, it would do. It shouldn't matter to me what my place was in the Uchiha's life. It shouldn't matter, even, that--
"If you enjoy it so much, I doubt that it tastes good," he shot back, angry that I was lying so blatantly.
"At least, unlike a certain someone, I know how to take care of myself because I'm not the one who has people groveling at every single word I say and licking my fingers for me!"
"At least I can afford that," he bit out. I stood up to face him and saw that his face had frozen into a look of pure, unadulterated anger.
"You were born rich, you fool, you have no idea what hard work is," I commented.
"You're the one who acts as if the entire population of Japan just got shoved up your ass, not me, pretty boy."
"Pretty boy?" That comment made me grit my teeth in anger, and I took the man by the collar, shaking him a bit, and saying, "And what are you, huh? You're the one who's strutting around with that 'all-hail-me' attitude," I flung at him. We were glaring at each other now, our voices raising over each other's words. And here I was, thinking that I wasn't able to ruffle a single feather on Mr. Peacock. His lips twitched, and then he gave me a full-fledged smirk, one that made me draw back my fist in an attempt to hit him.
I threw the punch at his face, putting to use all the street-fighting tricks I had learned. But he grabbed my fist, twisted my hand so it was behind my back, and then, his chest was pressing up against me from behind. "Don't think you're the only one who can fight," he hissed in my ear, moving closer. I snatched my hand away, and turned to face him, only to have him loom over me.
I took a step back. We were crammed into the relatively small space behind my desk, and there was only one way I could get out of this situation: run. I tried to maneuvre my away around him and out into the open space of the room but he pushed me back against the desk. "Don't underestimate me, Naruto."
I gritted my teeth at that. If he knew--if only he knew my background. "You're treading dangerous waters yourself, Uchiha," I hissed.
"Oh?" He chuckled, and I tried not to shiver at that sound.
I lifted my chin, defiant still, to face him. He placed his hands against the desk on either side of me and bent a little so that he could look at me in the eye. All it would take was for me to tilt my head just so, and our lips would meet. "I wanted ramen," I hissed.
"And I wanted Chinese," the Uchiha snapped back, his voice pitched low.
"Move."
"No."
"I said move, UB."
"And I," the Uchiha pressed forward until our noses were almost touching. This was too close, much too close for my comfort. "I said, what's wrong with you?"
"It's nothing," I mumbled, ducking my head.
"Look at me." I kept my head down, staring at our feet on the floor, a jumble of black shoes now that we were so close to each other. "Naruto." His voice held a threat, so I let my eyes wander over his face. It wasn't entirely perfect, I realized. There were flaws, small flaws. I tried to look at him in the eye, and saw something there that made the heat rise up to my face.
"Stop being a girl about everything, Naruto," he said, voice still low. There was no insult in his tone, only the warmth of his breath on my cheek. I put a hand on the desk for support, and in that instance, our fingers met. And that might have been all that he needed because he moved even closer, pushing at the small space between us, covering my hand with his, his gaze heated, and a little wild. I thought, over the past week, that he wasn't even interested in men, they way he handled himself, but this--
"Sorry to interrupt," Kakashi's voice cut through the silence, breaking whatever concentration we had on each other. I turned my head to see that Kakashi was standing by the elevator, a woman next to him.
She was, by all accounts, beautiful. She had red--a dark pink almost--hair tumbling over her shoulders, and was wearing a cream-colored dress made from obviously expensive silk. The dress was normal, not too revealing, but it did the job because even I found myself tracing the soft curves of her body. The most beautiful part of her, though, were her eyes, a fierce, fierce green that sparkled in the office light. I didn't recognize her, so I offered a smile and said in the most composed way possible, pushing the Uchiha away, "May I help you?"
The Uchiha was looking at the girl till then, and my comment made him glance at me for a second before returning his gaze to the girl.
"Sakura," he stated calmly. "I got your message." I glanced at the UB in horror, my mouth open. Sakura, as in the girl who the UB was engaged to, as in his fiance. The girl didn't say anything, and instead turned her burning gaze on me, and I realized with horror what she was thinking.
I shook my head apologetically, and opened my big, stupid mouth again. "It isn't what you think. We were fighting over what to order for lunch and I tried to hit him--"
"Lunch?" She raised an eyebrow at my explanation. For everyone else in the world, the Uchiha didn't eat lunch. So no matter how truthful my explanation was, there was no way she would believe it.
"He wanted Chinese, and I wanted pork ramen," I plowed on. I shoved the Uchiha out of the way and made my way to her, hoping to salvage the situation. "I was just trying to hit him, but he was trying to threaten me, and--"
We must have looked intimate, like lovers, even, and since we were so close, it must have looked like we were about to kiss, maybe do something more. What must they be thinking? There was barely any space between me and Sasuke, and with me up against the desk, they must have thought--I blushed at the thought that came to mind, a rapid succession of images: the Uchiha and me, bare, against each other, moving together, his shirt undone, with my office desk for support, my hand in his hair, him breathing hard against my neck, entirely animal in his desire for--"Oh dear lord, that's a disgusting thought." There was silence. I cleared my throat. "Really, just try and understand. It's not like that--"
By then, the UB was sitting in my seat, calmly looking at the two of us with a bored expression. I wondered how he could stand there, watching as his engagement was on the verge of ruination. I looked at the woman again. Her lips were pursed, and then she took a step towards me. In that instant, I realized that she was a bit taller than me. It was maybe by an inch or two, not by much but at that instant it made all the difference.
"I am so sorr--" She took in a deep breath, squared her shoulders and then slapped me.
It stung. I had been in fights before, and I could vouch, with certainty, that Sakura held more strength in that arm of hers than many, many men I had fought. My head snapped sideways in the direction of her slap. It felt as if my entire cheek had been punctured with a pad full of needles, and I rose a hand gingerly to touch the sore spot. When I turned my gaze back to her, still bewildered at her action, she turned and left, the elevator door closing with a soft ding. I stared after her, my fingers still lingering above my sore cheek, and finally, after what seemed like a million years, I uttered, "What have I done--"
I glanced at the Uchiha, still unable to say anything else, and he cocked his head in my direction with an amused smiled.
"OII!"
"Not this again," he said with a frustrated sigh.
"Oi! You--you!"
"What? That's it? That wasn't too creative."
I walked over to him and took him by the collar, forcing him to look up at me from his seat. "Your fiance," I hissed, "Just thought you cheated on her with another man. If you had even a scrap of decency, even a fiber of your heart left, you'd go after her and explain to her what just happened."
"And what happened?" He stood up, pushing me back a few steps, and crossed his arms, demanding now. "What exactly just happened? Or was it so disgusting you don't want to talk about it."
"Nothing happened," I growled. He looked amused and raised an eyebrow at that. I was nothing to him, and neither was Sakura. We were just there, for his amusement, to fill his time, his needs. Maybe I was just one of his sexual experiments, maybe he got bored with women, thought, Why not give it a try with him?
I took in a deep breath. Don't punch him, don't punch him, anything you do, don't punch--I slapped him, hopefully just as hard as Sakura hit me. My fingers tingled at the contact and I noticed with satisfaction that his cheek was turning a slight shade of pink. He stared at me, eyes wide now. "You aren't human," I snapped, "There is nothing human about you, if you can just stand to break someone's heart and trust like that without even a second thought. You're going to go after her--"
I felt a hand grab me and drag me away from Sasuke and into the elevator. It was Kakashi, and when the elevator doors closed, an instant later, he said, in one of the coldest voices I had ever heard, "You're fired."
End of The Third