This chapter is dedicated to Darkheim for guessing correctly who it was who vouched for Naruto! Heh heh. (:

Warnings: Boyxboy, language, un-beta'd

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, blah blah blah, don't make me anymore depressed.

A/N: There's a POLL UP on my profile, 'which fic should I write next?' , VOTE after you read this please. (:

Anyone have any ideas for persuasional speech topics? Letting me know of some would be much appreciated.

SnowWhiteQueen2009: Yesh! I love you forevers and evers!

Naruto: Hopefully we won't have to see that asshole this chapter since Ellie Lights super power punched him into the next millenuim back in chapter one. She's my favorite now. -Glomps-

Enjoy.


Here Tsunade was, giving Jiraiya a chance, and what had he brought her? Nothing but a little runt. Truthfully, before his retirement the white-haired man had an unmatched taste when it came to potential talents and who so ever he took under his wing became a big hit throughout the country. But maybe his break from the showbiz industry and all that writing had dulled his sense for talent, because the boy standing before he certainly wasn't much.

He stood awkwardly at 5'8" with his hands shoved into his pockets and his legs placed as if he had to pee. Sure, he had potential to be good looking, but the unkempt condition he seemed to be in made him look simply…average. His tan skin was slightly oily and he had three slashes on each of his cherub cheeks, looking odd and displaced on his face. Golden hair covered his head in a distressed mop, spiking up un-expectantly in some places and laying limp in others; it remained untrimmed and too long, uneven and jagged along the bottom and throughout the layers. Blue eyes just barely peaked out from behind a mass of overgrown bangs that had to be causing some type of vision problem. He wore a dull, worn-out orange sweatshirt that did everything but flatter his seemingly lean frame, along with distressed jeans, and a pair of tattered sneakers.

Nothing about the way he looked inclined Tsunade to except him into her company, nor did it tell her that he had any enthusiasm or desire to join it himself. This had to be a joke.

"Who's this brat?" she asked bluntly, unimpressed with the entire ordeal.

"Uzumaki Naruto," Jiraiya sanswered swiftly before the blonde, who had opened his mouth to retort with an annoyed look etched on his face, could answer. "He's the one I was telling you about earlier,"

She turned to her computer monitor and began typing away at the keyboard. "I don't have time for this, Jiraiya, I have work to do. Either bring me the real person, or get out,"

"Oi, ya old hag, I am the real deal," The blonde snapped.

A pause in which the mouse of the computer could be heard crushing under Tsunade's grip, and then, "What did you just say?"

"Ohhh, I forgot, you're probably going def, huh?" he said, continuing to taunt the woman's temper. He cleared his throat and spoke in a loud, clear voice, enunciating each word, "I am the real deal."

From a seat beside the large office window, Kiba—who had been the one who sold Tsunade on meeting with the blonde, 'Naruto', in the first place—sing-songed, amused, "Blondie's gonna get his ass whooped,"

Jiraiya shrugged, smiling. "Let him learn his lesson the hard way,"

"No, a little before that…Something to do with being 'old'," Tsunade spoke in a dangerously calm voice.

"Ah…" Naruto grinned. "Old hag."

Crash.

The bottle shattered into tiny pieces as it hit the door of the office. The warm liquid slid down the frosted glass and a series of spider web cracks formed where the bottle had made its impact. Good thing Naruto had ducked in time, or it would be his skull with pretty little cracks in it.

"What the hell?! Are you trying to kill me old lady?!"

Smash.

And this time it was three sake cups smashing simultaneously against the door.

"You want to try calling me that again, brat?!" Tsunade shouted, partially raised out of her seat.

"It's true…" he grumbled under his breath.

Her eyes narrowed to slits but she still sat back in her seat. She sniffed indignantly, "Made me waste a perfectly good bottle of sake,"

"How is that my fault?! You threw it at me!" Naruto squawked.

"Anyway, brat, what the hell do you want?" she inquired, leaning back. When Naruto looked at Jiraiya expectantly, she added harshly, "I want to hear it from you,"

He paused, and then asked outright, "You can make me a model, right?"

"I could…what of it?"

"What else would I be here for, then?"

"Don't get smart with me," Tsunade warned. "I'm giving you a chance, but I can always kick you out now,"

"…Gomen," The blonde apologized, and then mumbled something incoherent under his breath.

"Hm? What was that?"

"I want you to make me a model," He spit out quickly, refusing to look at the woman.

"Uh-huh…why?"

This time, as he spoke his words, his eyes did meet hers. Flat and unreadable, but filled with determination, the blue orbs told it just as he did. "There's someone I need to beat."

Tsunade froze, staring at the blonde. Only, for the slightest second, it wasn't the blonde standing there, but a light-haired brunet of the same height with sparkling green eyes who shared the very same willpower as him. The image was gone a moment later, but a gentle smile on the woman's face was left in its wake. A sense of nostalgia overcame Jiraiya as he watched her; it'd been a long time since he'd seen her wear an expression such as that.

"Alright, brat, I'll give you a chance." She said as she got to her feet. "We'll see what you can do. I'm not promising anything, though,"


Most days, people would try to stop him multiple times as he made his way through the workplace. The raven-haired, onyx-eyed, pale man attracted the attention of more than a few. Everywhere he went, someone's gaze was upon him—much to his utter annoyance—and work was no exception. But now, no one was stupid enough to bother him for fear of death or worse.

Uchiha Sasuke stormed through the halls of Konoha Corporations with hell at his heels. His black jacket billowed about him as he stalked toward his destination, the phone in his fist nearly cracking from the pressure he was putting on it. His gaze was set in an icy glare and a single name hung on his lips: Itachi.

Sasuke had woken up in…somewhat of a good mood that morning. He wasn't loathing any of the people that he would undoubtedly have to deal with throughout the day, and he wasn't annoyed with his decision of having ever joined the company. He had actually been pleasant with people. In fact, he had a fairly good premonition about how the day was going to go. Apparently said premonition was wrong.

It all started when his first break of the day, and he had been able to check his voicemail. Twenty-seven messages. Twenty-fucking-seven messages. It wouldn't have been that bad if they weren't all addressed to someone by the name of "Sassy Cheeha" from a website horribly named "Color the rainbow with love". Each and everyone of them was from a different man—all of whom sounded like the very essence of gay-cliché(1)—saying he would 'Abso-LUTE-ly love!' to go out and have drinks with "Sassy" before going to play around a bit. One of them had described each and every little detail of what the man planned to do to "Sassy" and instead of turning Sasuke on—which was most likely the desired effect—it made him want to vomit.

And Sasuke knew exactly who to blame for the messages on his cell phone and the account on some gay hookup website that presumabley had his number written flamboyantly across it. The culprit was the only person who had enough work to neglect to make the stupid account for his own personal amusement. The only person who, along with his boyfriend—who was probably in on it, as well—was constantly saying how he needed to find a good fuck. And the only person who knew of "Sassy Cheecha"—and it sure as hell had better stay that way; no one needed to know that once upon a time when he was younger, Sasuke had an odd lisp, resulting in the odd way of calling himself (the birth of the name "Sassy Cheeha").

It was none another than Uchiha Itachi.

Of course the asshole would change his number, yet again, knowing full well that Sasuke would try to curse him out on a highly expensive international call.

Sasuke flipped open his phone and stabbed speed-dial nine. He turned a sharp corner, impatiently waiting for the ringing to stop and a familiar voice to answer—yes, for once he actually wanted to talk to the perverted man.

'I know I'm late, Sasuke, but I had to help an old lady cross the street this morning on my way to work and then she just insisted she treat me to cake. So of course I couldn't turn her down! Besides, you should be used to my need to do good deeds by now,'

Sasuke rolled is eyes; naturally the first thing out of Kakashi's mouth would be an excuse. "If by 'needs to do good deeds' you mean 'need to be a lazy ass mother fucker' then yes, I am perfectly aware,"

'Maa, maa, so mean,' The man whined.

"My phone number. You need to change it," Sasuke stated sternly, searching the halls for the correct room.

'Ever heard of the word please?'

"…"

'Alright, I'll change it, you're highness. But tell me, why the sudden desire for a new number?'

"Itachi."

And enough was said,

'I see,' Sasuke could here the grin in the man's voice. He got some kind of amusement out of the torture Itachi put Sasuke through. The younger Uchiha was sure that if the two spent enough time together, they would become the best of friends, though Itachi would most likely grow annoyed of the lecherous man overtime and end up killing him.

"Just do it." Sasuke snapped hastily, hanging up and shoving his phone into his pocket.

Earlier, after listening to half of the voicemails, Sasuke had grown fed up and went to find Tsunade, who would undoubtedly have some way to contact Itachi. But, as it turned out, she was not in her office, busy alternating between doing work and getting drunk. He had then went to see out Shizune, the vice president of Konoha Corporation who also part-timed as her boss's babysitter--or at least that's how it seemed. She had given him the location of the blonde woman, and he was off once more. It was a surprise Sasuke hadn't given up yet, after having been sent on this wild goose chase. But then again, Uchiha's never gave up.

Sasuke stopped before the door Shizune had directed him to, somewhat confused. Shizune had said Tsunade was working with a model in room 516, and the door did read '516' but this room, as it turned out, was a deck(2). It was one of many, filled with cameras, lights, props, and other photographic delicacies, that were used for photo shoots. Tsunade hardly ever involved herself with the photographer's duties, however she did sit and watch the models at work—which automatically put pressure on everyone. The only time she took it upon herself to help was when the subject either needed a lot of help or had a lot of potential. So if Shizune's words were true—and they probably were since she had no reason to lie—then Sasuke had some interest in seeing just who exactly the company president was dealing with, and whether the talent was lacking or excelling.

This interest was pushed to the back of his mind as be opened the door of the deck. First things first.

Majority of the many workers froze at the sight of the dark-haired man when he stepped into the deck. He didn't pay them any attention, however, and made a bee-line straight for the only woman in the place who hadn't spotted him the moment he walked in. She was tall, with blonde hair that was pulled into two pigtails. She worse a lavender suit that strained to cover her large bust and hugged her every curve. On her forehead was a blue triangular shaped bindi that she wore everyday. He waited with hardly concealed irritation as Tsunade spoke slowly but purposefully to the photographer. After what seemed to be an eternity of pointless chattering, but was only a few minutes, she looked at Sasuke as if she had only just realized his presence there.

"Oh, Uchiha, do you need something?" Tsunade inquired.

"Yes. Itachi's number," Sasuke said upfront.

Her eyebrows rose slightly. "Why?"

"He changed this number again and that ass—"

"Never mind. I don't want to know, nor do I want to get involved in your little siblings rivalry. What makes you think I have his number, anyway?"

He answered flatly, "You're the president."

"So?" she said. She added under her breath, "I can barely keep up with my work, what makes them think I have time to babysit?"

Someone obviously hadn't had their morning alcohol intake. (Oh, if only Sasuke knew).

The dark-haired man turned to leave but stopped when something (or rather someone) caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't because the person had that good of a face, or was even good at what he was doing. It was quite the opposite, really. A slim blonde stood before the plain backdrop awkwardly as if he had just been given appendages and had no idea how to use them. With his over-sized clothes and messy hair, he looked as if he was just, well…there.

At least the earlier question was solved: his talent was definitely lacking.

"I want you to meet him," Tsunade said, her hazel eyes trained on the blonde.

"What? Why?"

"Maybe you can give him a few tips." She winked at him and called the boy over with a loud shout of 'Blondie!' He looked over at her, a grateful and relieved expression overcoming his features, and immediately loped over.

"I want you to meet someone," Tsunade told the blonde as he stopped before the pair. She motioned to Sasuke. "This is Uchiha Sasuke, one of the top models at our company. I'm sure you've heard of him. And Uchiha, this is—"

"I know," stated Sasuke.

"What?" Both blondes said in chorus.

"I know who he is."

"You do?" questioned Tsunade.

The dark-haired man nodded. "I do." He looked at the blonde male. "You're an amateur. Someone who waltzed in here thinking this job is oh so easy, something anyone could do. That's what it looks like to you on television and in all those magazines, doesn't it? You probably think its some way to instant fame, or perhaps you wanted to meet an idol of yours? Either way it's pathetic. It's obvious by your performance that you have no experience or genuine interest in this work. You're a mess, both your expression and movements are stiff," He paused. "Quite frankly, you look like a dumbass,"

Silence in the entire deck followed.

Sasuke turned to Tsunade, "Were those tips good enough?"

The president nodded dully, stuck in a trance between surprise and interest.

Sasuke nodded curtly in affirmation. He turned on his heel and exited the back without another word.

The delayed reaction of Naruto rang through out the building five minutes later.

"You Bastard!"


(1) Who ever can guess what movie I was watching while writing this part gets next chappy dedicated to them ^_^ The gay-cliche part is a hint as well as this quote: "Would the faggot on the table please get down?"

(2) I will refer to rooms that photoshoots are taken in as 'decks'.I'm pretty sur ethis isn't what actual photographers would call it...or if there is even a name for it...but for the sake of my sanity this is what it will be called from now on.


Neh...I really don't like this chapter. But oh well, no matter how many times I rewrite i'm not satisfied. I'm so picky. .

Reviews will make me love you forever! (And give me inspiration).

Ja!