Chapter 4 Click click click

T Minus 17 Days

The quiet and steady clicking of the keyboard filled the room with what should've been comforting white noise. But every tap of those keys grated on his nerves; almost too loud, as though they were knocks on his throbbing skull. It probably had to do with him downing several glasses after seeing Naruto last night.

He didn't drink often. No, by no means was he an alcoholic. He indulged on the occasion - during corporate afterparties, charity dinners, at Naruto's place - but he was so very tired recently and the obvious unease of his happy-go-lucky lover only added to his already-frayed nerves. Alcohol was a simple solution to a complex problem that would take more time to address than he had to spare. So, he soothed over the nagging twist in his gut with the pretext that 'time and energy better spent equates success and happiness.' And wasn't that true. Every Uchiha patriarch learned and taught the timeless modus operandi of a successful business and a happy life: work first, everything else will fall into place. It ensured his time and energy would generate profit, and was well-spent. He rarely had any time for himself nowadays, let alone for Naruto. Had he the time to spare. For now, alcohol would quiet his agitation. Well no, that wasn't completely true either. The sense of unease didn't go away; it lingered under the haze of work and alcohol and busy, busy, busy. Really, it bordered on the edge of annoying.

It was work before relationships. It had always been.

Naruto would concede that point. He had his own business to run. Yet, last night kept resurfacing to the forefront of his mind: the blond's out-turned gaze, his reflection in the window, was so obscured in the bleak darkness outside that it was uncomfortably indecipherable. Naruto had always been easy to read, so the memory raised red flags. Another problem he didn't have time to deal with.

When he looked up from the keyboard, he found that he'd been holding down the space bar. Now there was a large blank space where there should've been the beginnings of a cost-benefit analysis.

"Fuck," he cursed. He jammed his index finger persistently on the backspace key.

His poor migraine couldn't have been worse if he'd taken a hammer to his head. And he knew it would only get worse from there. Nothing good ever happened when he had a migraine. Which, was probably why he wasn't as surprised at the president's impromptu visit that afternoon. His office doors slid open with a solemn creak.

"Itachi."

"Little brother," was the reply.

"What brings you to this part of Tokyo?" He drawled nonchalantly in an effort to hide his late-night drinking.

"You've been drinking."

Of course, it wouldn't work.

"Your eyes are red and your face is slightly swollen." Itachi raised an eyebrow, pointedly.

There was nothing wrong with his face, he was sure. He'd checked the mirror this morning, and he looked as immaculate as ever. Though, this was Itachi. Of course Itachi could tell two shades off-white from three shades off-white, if there ever was a difference.

"It's nothing," Sasuke muttered.

With the way in which his little brother looked away from him, gaze down-turned and fists clenched in his lap, the elder knew it wasn't 'nothing.' He paused momentarily at the stubborn set of that jaw. He could continue the line of questioning and get his answers immediately. But Sasuke, with drooped shoulders and tense eye fissures, looked more exhausted than he had been for months. So, as would an older brother looking out for his younger brother, he would leave it alone. For now. The persistent gleam in his eyes probably gave away his intent, since Sasuke flinched minutely when he looked up.

A small but brief smile crossed his face as he turned for the door.

"Father called a family gathering for next Sunday. Sleep well, little brother." And he closed the office doors to the too-large and too-bare room behind him with a resounding click. It's said the state of one's office reflected oneself. Evidence that their shared upbringing and spartan education did them no favours. Yet, he'd learnt early on that there existed things more important than the precedent and logic that his father, and his father's father before him, preached. As best he could, he tried to shield his younger brother from the politics of it. Unsuccessful, though, he may be, not all was lost. He remembered dearly how those innocent black eyes used to twinkle in admiration and devotion as they looked up at him. Sasuke would learn sooner or later, and he would be there to look out for his dearest little brother.

Sasuke sighed in the empty silence. He needed aspirin. It was from lack of foresight that he didn't restock when he ran out last week. He desperately needed it now. Probably later in the week too, seeing as how he'd have to face up to his father at yet another ritzy corporate gathering under the label, 'family reunion.' Making a quick decision, he gathered his coat in hand and bid his assistant goodbye for the day.

"H-have a good evening Mr. Uchiha!" She stammered. It didn't invoke the normal smug satisfaction he had at intimidating his employees.

He didn't bother sparing his secretary a glance, but she still flinched as he walked by. Last week, she had proved herself incompetent and she would soon be replaced. The corporate world bore no leniency, especially in his company.

The front desk clerk greeted him, ready with his car keys. He shook his head at the old man. The pharmacy was a mere 5 blocks away. He could walk to clear his head.

There was a strange warmth spreading from his chest as he passed by the alleyway where he'd snogged Naruto many weeks ago. The subtle yet putrid smell only made the ache in his head worse. A niggling at the back of his head told him the state of the gritty wall and the lingering dust hadn't mattered when he'd been there with Naruto. He rubbed a palm against his sternum to ease the tingling. What was it?

Nostalgia, that was the word. And what a weird word it was.

It made no sense, like much of the world around him. Why would people choose to reminisce in the past, in things that have little-to-no impact on the present? He would never understand it. It was why he build his own world from the ground up - with things that made sense, things that were logical and fluid. There was no value in illogical, inconsequential things like nostalgia.

When he first met Naruto, their relationship had also been as straightforward. They had clicked. From close friendship, it had become a whirlwind love affair that seemed to steep too fast, too quickly.

Despite the awkward lull in conversation now and then, he would say their relationship was going well. Sometimes there were distinct pauses where he wondered if he should offer something more to the conversation or otherwise, but eventually they would move past it onto more pleasurable activities. Naruto couldn't stand silence for too long. There was nothing wrong with that. Although those awkward silences were prevailing over the past couple weeks, it was nothing to expend more energy to worry over. Naruto would get over whatever problem he had soon enough. And if Naruto didn't get over it within the next week, he would snap his idiot blond out of it. Make him see reason.

Things were going reasonably well for the both of them. Their relationship was give and take. He had a great lover, a great company and staff, people who were willing to go out of their way just to glimpse at him and supply his every need. He had a freedom he'd never known as a child growing up in the Uchiha estate.

Yes, things should be perfect. He hurried his steps. He really needed that aspirin.

By the time he got into work that morning - fairly later than usual - Naruto found that he had an infestation problem. Or, more accurately, a female-friends-interrupting-work-and-commandeering-workers-for-non-work-purposes problem. It looked as though the fairy queen of lace and satin had strutted her way into the space and thrown up pink-and-white all over the furnishings. The entrance - now a dynamic cushioned seating-area with soft white curtains - opened up to a large open boutique with two symmetrical rows of chairs (in white) cordoned off by rustic wooden end tables with floral centerpieces and candles, accented (of course) in pink. Despite these, the prime focal point of the room was a gothic-and-modern golden chandelier that spanned a full metric radius of 3 feet, white organza hung from the arms to the rafters. That had definitely not been there when he first contracted the place.

He was almost tempted to go outside to check if he'd entered the right building. But Kyuubi was only one architectural marvel on the entire block that incorporated both modern and gothic aesthetic elements. What's more, there was no mistaking the loud and obnoxious antics of his staff. Particularly Deidara, who was precariously balanced on the outside of the railings, in the middle of wrapping the same organza around the post of the stairs on the second floor landing.

"-'m not lightweight! And I see no reason why you can't do this instead," he shouted through the roll of clear tape clenched between his teeth.

He was answered by a strawberry blonde who could only be Sakura, "I'm not as coordinated as you and I have to direct the other preparations." She originally had very light brown hair but repeated bleaching had permanently changed the base root colour. He'd told her the thirtieth time that it couldn't be good for her. Well, she was as stubborn as him if not more so and she liked the colour despite it's brittleness, so it couldn't be helped.

"And what, pray tell, are these preparations?"

Naruto stepped further into the room, drawing the attention of the staff who all froze in their hustle and bustle.

"Naruto!" Sakura broke into a wide grin and launched herself across the room at him. Unlike the other staffers whose hands rubbed nervously together, she had no qualms about pushing him around. It was one of the things about her that both aggravated and endeared her to him. It was also what made her so difficult to work with before she'd resigned more than a couple months ago. They were too similar on that front.

"Naruto! Help me," she wheedled shamelessly, "I have a convention tomorrow to organize and the place I reserved suddenly called and canceled on me because a leak broke in the ceiling. Please, can I borrow your studio here?"

Why me, he sighed. As though psychic, Sakura immediately turned her wide blue eyes on him in her ultimate Doey-Eyed Look. (It wasn't quite up to par with his Ultimate Puppy Stare, but it was compelling enough to deserve caps.)

"Fine," he mumbled, "seeing as how you've already set up before I even got here." But no one heard his words because Sakura squealed and jumped up with a "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She then set him up with more white and gold accents and sent him adrift.

"Come on people! Time's a-wasting!"

By the time they finished, it was mid-afternoon and his staffers were cranky, exhausted, and hungry - a terrible combination. Naruto fared no better, seeing as his better aesthetic senses had appealed to him, and he'd had to rearrange everything so the pink accents wouldn't make one's eyes bleed. (With the argument that it was his place, he'd not-so-subtlely replaced most of the extraneous pink wall and table decor with tasteful beige accents that went well with the gold.) It'd been a long and tiring day. So while Sakura was busy confirming the catering details for the next day, he sent everyone home with a 'good work today.'

On the way out, Sasori, who'd only met Sakura today as he was Sakura's replacement after she left, clapped a hand on Naruto's shoulder and muttered, "She's a monster. Good luck."

There were good-natured complaints and murmurs of agreement as his staff filed out. He still needed to sign off on a couple fabric orders for his design submission so he couldn't leave quite just yet.

"Naruto?" It seemed Sakura had finished her phone call.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for this." She gave him a truly grateful smile.

"No problem Sakura. I'm just awesome like that," he laughed and struck up a pose, "Be awed by my generosity."

She giggled at his posturing as she tidied up a few misplaced arrangements. Her heels clicking loudly in the recently-emptied hall. Naruto couldn't help but think it must be hard being so OCD about things. Well, he supposed, when it came to his designs, he could also be called a perfectionist. He leaned over to help her readjust a centrepiece.

"So," she said. And her tone of voice was so terribly familiar; it was the one where she was nervous and didn't know how to word something delicately and so would bulldoze her way through. He just knew he wouldn't like what was coming next.

"Ino's back today," she continued. He blinked. That was unexpected.

"And she brought one of her colleagues back with her."

Ah, he thought, there it was.

"And he's really sweet, smart, and good-looking. Nothing like your ex. And I just know he'd be perfect for you if you give him a chance! Come on, Naruto! It's been so long since you've let someone else make you happy. I mean you're always making your friends happy and you're the best friend a girl could ask for. And you've really got nothing to lose!" She took a deep breath. He could see she was about to continue but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Sakura, I'm not looking for a relationship," he sighed. He was doing that more recently. Sighing. It couldn't be healthy. "But I'll let you know when I'm ready for one." He smiled. It was an act of contrition. With Sakura, he needed to compromise or she would never let him hear the end of it.

"You've been saying that for two years already. It's been more than three years since your last relationship! Come on, Naruto. You don't even have to be romantically interested! He can be a really great friend!"

She clearly wasn't going to let this one go, he thought. Well, there was no harm in having more friends.

"Sure. I'll meet him."

Sakura cheered. She really was a great friend, he chucked. He didn't deserve her.

"Okay! Tonight, nine o'clock at Akatsuki! I'll set it up." She whipped out her mobile.

"Wait! I have something else tonight. I can't." He chuckled nervously as she eye him with suspicion. She probably thought he was going to push it off until he didn't have to go. So he hastily added, "But I'm free the night after tomorrow! After the convention?"

A smile eased away her frown and she seemed to accept the excuse. "Okay! The night after, then! And he'll be at the convention tomorrow so I can introduce the two of you."

"Great," he laughed nervously, rubbing his head in a sheepish gesture.

Let me know what you think!