Hello again, everyone. Just for you guys, I made this chapter extra long. Or long in my standards anyways. :3
I've been trying to speed up the work a little, as I know we are all anxious to see when Sasuke meets Naruto. However, there is still a while to go and you will be able to see partially why in this chapter. I am trying to keep it realistic.
But the wait will not be long now. Thanks for being patient.
As for my life, summer school's almost over. I have about three days left...and then RELIEF. :D I'm so excited.
Disclaimer: As you can tell, Naruto is not prone to yaoi or yuri. So, I do not own it. ^_^
Chapter Three
Incoherent
A tall figure walked across the wide parking lot, his ebony hair glistening like dark champagne in the afternoon sun. His suit was clean and spotless; his tie straightened and his hair tied back effortlessly. His pale skin was completely free of flaws, minus the dark bruises and indents under his eyes from the lack of sleep. Under his clothed arm was a manila folder—in which the contents were labeled and neatly placed. He stepped through the entrance, the glass doors swinging open at his presence.
Walking up to the main desk, he was confronted by the desk manager.
Nodding politely, a bare hint of a smile touched his lips. Tipping his head, he offered his greeting.
"Karin-san. I hope you've been well."
The red-haired girl jumped from her seat, hastily covering the magazine she had been idly skimming through. The man gave allowed a thin-lipped smile at the girl's frantic gestures.
Upon realizing that the person was not a customer, but an old acquaintance, she quickly stopped her movements. Settling back into her seat, she pushed back her squared black frames as she gave a pinched smile.
"Why hello, Itachi-san. Where have you been all this time? Though, you don't look the least bit less handsome than the last time…asshole."
He gave a hollow bark of laughter, unable to stay restrained. His tired eyes seemed to glow with old liveliness, masked by long years of hardship.
"Oh Karin-san, you did flatter and insult me often. You don't look half bad yourself. And to refresh your simple mind, I live in Suna. The rest is self-explanatory."
Blowing a strand of vibrant-red hair, Karin relaxed in her chair as she gave a snort.
"Half bad, Itachi? Simple minded? I take back every compliment I've ever said about you. To think I'd almost forgotten how much of an asswipe you were. And people wondered why we never got along. You're lucky I don't give a shit what you think, brainless twit."
"Hey now…that insult was uncalled for. I state nothing but the simple truth."
"Truth, my ass. You are unbelievable—and that was not a compliment." She shook her head of flaming hair as if to shake out his ridiculous notions from her mind, "Well, for being gone that length of time, you sure haven't missed much. Tsunade-sama's as cranky as ever…and probably twice as often intoxicated. If she wasn't the head of such a booming company, she would have been broke a long ways back, I swear."
Checking the small digital clock on the wall, Itachi quickly straightened out.
"Well, Karin-san, as much as I'd love to continue this conversation, Tsunade-sama is in need of me. I'm supposed to be in her office in five minutes. Would you mind telling me which floor? I haven't been in this building in so long; I've forgotten all the room numbers."
She gave him a deadpanned look before tapping a few keys into her laptop. As she typed, she spoke, "Right, as if your memory is that terrible. If you can't remember shit, then pray help all the stupid people of the world, they would all be brain-dead."
"I believe that was a compliment, Karin-san."
She glanced up quickly before glaring through her intense red eyes at his handsomely-crafted features as if to melt them. Sniffing, she replied haughtily, "As if I would give you another compliment. Don't flatter yourself too much; your brain might explode from your inflated ego. Plus, I have a boyfriend, baka."
"Well, a man's pride is all he has. And a boyfriend? You? Who would be that insane?"
"Get the hell out of here, Itachi! Your very presence is making me sick, no matter how well you serve as eye-candy. Tsunade-sama's in room C4—that's on the third floor, and in case you had any ideas of getting lost, asshole!"
"You shouldn't stare at me too much; your imaginary boyfriend might get jealous."
"HE'S REAL, GOD DAMMIT! AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I LIKE YOUR BROTHER MORE THAN YOU, BASTARD-ASS-JERKFACE!"
Well, isn't that clever. Her mouth was as dirty as ever…same old Karin. Itachi simply gave another closed smile, the rest of his face clearing as he walked to the elevators. Behind him, a red-faced Karin continued to fume. She looked like a bright cherry, with her flaming hair and matching red face. Itachi almost snickered.
The elevator looked as glossy as ever, as if beckoning Itachi to step on and slide his lips across the ceramic wall—if only to make a dirty spot against the clean surface. But, he was not the same psychotic child who had come here only years ago as a client. No, now he was the person giving the support and help.
When the doors opened, he was stunned at the beauty of the third floor. As a client, he had never experienced the appreciation for such magnificent artwork. He had been a moody, bi-polar child who had been on the verge of suicide. He didn't have the eyes to admire his surroundings—for back then, his life had been very dark. Now, as he looked around, he could see the light etchings carefully placed in the white walls. He slowly examined the smooth surfaces of the glass tiles and the potted plants sitting idly in on white window ledges. The sun light was streaming in through a nearby window, making the normally uncomfortable place look strangely open and lively.
The only lacking counterpart was the people. He could spot no workers bustling about and in the back of his mind; he wondered where they could all be. However, seeing as it was none of his business how Tsunade ran her therapy center, he gave it no other thought about it as he approached room C4.
Knocking lightly on the door, he waited for the muffled voice to let himself in. But instead of the normal validation, he was startled to hear the crashing of some sort of large object before a loud voice grunted him confirmation.
Shaking off his anxiety, his face appeared as cool and composed as before as he stepped inside. Trying to keep his face straight after that was…rather difficult.
The first ideal that hit him was the smell. It stank like ripe body odor as well as the heaviness of consumed alcohol. Second, his pathway was completely blocked off. Towers of crumbling paperwork stood in heaps on every available space in the small room. The spaces on top of said paperwork were consumed by bottles of alcohol—mainly sake, Itachi noticed with a critical eye. Both empty and full bottles were scattered about, even standing inside a dead potted-plant knocked to the side by some papers.
Scanning his eyes briefly over, he finally noticed the person he had been looking for. Seated in the swamped desk, Tsunade's head seemed to be smashing some papers as the phone cord hung idly knotted around her fist. Without even bothering to lift her head, she raised her hand with her middle finger motioning him closer. At first, he did nothing—only looking about with his eyes to find some sort of narrow, but walkable pathway to go through. But with urgency he finally decided to plow through the work, seeing as Tsunade seemed in no shape to criticize him.
Setting aside some of the papers blocking his view to her, he noticed that she looked in nicer terms, a complete zombie. Her eyes were framed with dark, purple bruises as her head tilted to the side—making a pillow of papers to rest upon. Her hair looked like a giant knot of straw, which Itachi knew would be a pain in the ass to untie.
Seeing as she made no motion to move or speak, he hesitantly touched her shoulder. Again, there was no response. He pushed a little harder. She shook from the inept balance and fell in a heap on the ground. Itachi's eyes were alarmed, confirming the noise from earlier to be her falling off her seat. Painfully sprawled on the ground, Tsunade's beady brown eyes glared up at him. With the little strength she had left, she pushed herself off the ground and unsteadily clambered back into her chair. Resting back, she grumbled about the many knots in her neck and back as she tossed her messy hair behind her.
Finally, she slid on her reading glasses hanging around her neck, blinking at the sudden clarity. Itachi tried to resort his expressions back to normal. Refusing to be embarrassed, she only chose to glare at him once before looking away. Taking a large swig of sake, she smoothed out the same wrinkled dress-shirt she had worn since the beginning of that week. Scowling, she cleared her throat twice before beginning.
"Itachi Uchiha. I see you've improved drastically since you last left."
"Yes, Tsunade, I have. And I see you have not gone sober yet."
This cracked the tense atmosphere. Tsunade shot him a small grin, the expression looking out of place in contrast to her worn face.
"That tongue of yours is as insolent as ever, Itachi."
"Well, I am the same brat who used to cause you so much trouble back then."
Her gaze softened as she leaned forward, her hand reaching out. Gliding down the angle of his face gently, she gave a look of satisfaction before leaning back. Itachi's frame slumped to a more relaxed position as she gave him another smile.
"No, you've changed, Itachi. Back then, you were a hormonal teen in the pits of depression. Now, you're a man—one grown with acceptance of yourself."
"It was all thanks to you, Tsunade."
She shook her head at his straight tone, smiling all the same. Though stressed and worn, she gladly hung onto the few spare moments she had with her old client. She cared for him as a mother cares for her own son. It was the simple, but special bond they had built ever since he had first stepped into her office so many years ago.
"I've missed you, Itachi," She paused for a moment. Her eyes seemed to grow misty for a moment, before they hardened into brown ice. "I can see life's been good to you, though. How's Sasuke?"
"He's doing great. You were right; he did need someone to comfort and stay by him. Now, I'm afraid he has a hard time shaking me off. He calls me 'overprotective', but I swear he's just plain reckless."
"He's a teenager, Itachi. Let him live a little."
"You mean, more than he already has? Life with him is a living rollercoaster, I can swear by that."
Tsunade laughed at his tone, while Itachi gave a small smile. It had been a long time since he had learned to smile freely. Nowadays, Sasuke always seemed annoyed because he smiled too much. His little brother was just too picky, if you asked him.
"Well, Itachi, as I assume you may have already guessed, I did not ask you to drive four hours to Konoha, only so we could talk over sake. I have a request to give you and as a therapist under the law supported by the Green-Stem Therapy Administration, you have the right to decline. However, I do think it is a job that only you can do."
Itachi looked confused, but nodded nonetheless. Tsunade took that as a confirmation and continued.
"Of course, I will need to know your answer as to whether or not you want to take this client after I finish explaining the circumstances. Then, perhaps we can bond a little over a few bottles of sake. Which, I cannot believe it—you are in age to drink now, aren't you? Or legally, I mean."
"Ah, yes, Tsunade, that I am. I'm twenty-two now."
"Twenty-two and still a brat, huh? Well, I suppose that will be something you'll never grow out of, no matter how old you are. As for the sake date—clear your schedule, we have a lot to catch up on, considering you never called once in all your time away, brat."
She gave him a pointed stare, as if daring him to disagree.
"This brat had to take care of one troublesome brother and juggle three part-time jobs. Have some sympathy, Tsunade."
"The only sympathy I have is sticking you with that lazy ass Shikamaru. You're even starting to sound like him."
"Yeah, that's generally what happens after spending a fourth of your life with the same person. Plus, wasn't it you that chose to stick him with us in the first place?"
"Actually, it was Shizune's suggestion. How is he these days?"
"Lazy…as always. He's back in Suna watching over Sasuke."
"I've always thought it was such a waste. All those genius cells in his brain are going to rot away, if they haven't already."
"Well, he still beats me in Shogi. I'm guessing that's a sign that his brain is still intact. Though, his job at the moment's settled down a lot. He always seems to be at home nowadays. Now, would you mind telling me the explanation? Mindless chatter does get rather boring."
Tsunade rolled her tired eyes, "Ah, you are right, as usual. My Itachi—a man, who'd expect it?" She gave him a sly wink, making him glare at her. Laughing, she continued, "As for the explanation. And you know the procedure: I must have your word that this does not leak to anyone not in included in the operation—la-li-da—all that legal shit. Comprende?"
"Of course, you have my word. Anything said in this room will stay between you and me. Now, what is this important job that I supposedly must take?"
Tsunade looked a bit uneasy now, pieces of her stringy hair falling over her glasses.
"It involves Naruto Uzumaki-Namikaze."
There was a harsh silence before Itachi spoke again.
"I must have blanked out for a moment. Did you just say the deceased Yellow Flash's son?"
This feels strangely like déjà vu.
"That is correct. Minato Namikaze's son. I—"
Itachi stood up, his legs almost knocking over a stash of papers.
"The murderer? Why, above all reasons would you be—"
"ITACHI UCHIHA—SHUT THE HELL UP AND SIT THE FUCK DOWN."
Itachi sat back down, his eyebrow twitching as his eyes mirrored his confusion. Tsunade only took off her glasses to rub her swollen eyes, before blinking them many times. Goddammit, she was so fucking tired. Pray tell the day she would ever get a wink of rest. Setting her glasses back on, she leaned forward, elbows digging into her table, her chin resting on her hands.
"Itachi. He needs therapy. Just like you had needed therapy. You're the only one that would ever consider taking him."
Itachi's hand shook as he blew air out in frustration.
"No. I'm sorry, but I must decline."
He stood up, his voice clean of emotions with a silver lining of polite indifference. But before he could consider plowing through the paperwork, Tsunade had stood up and yanked his sleeve back into his seat. Her grip was as strong as iron and her eyes were like hardened ice.
"Listen to me, Itachi. That boy needs help. I have a very reliable resource. Screw the law—I need you to accept. Itachi, Ga—I mean, the person who called was extremely desperate."
Itachi's eyes went from being emotionless to angry in a few flat seconds. Clenching his fists, he bit out, "Well, you can tell whoever this sick, desperate fuck is that he can go tell that monster to go die. I won't help him. He deserves whatever the hell he's going through, as it makes no difference to me. He killed all those people in cold blood—why should I care about him? He didn't care—didn't stop to think for one moment about all those innocent people."
"He didn't do it—or that's what his friend—I mean, my source says."
Itachi sneered, the expression looking strangely correct on his face. The twisted features gave him a demented look that reminded Tsunade of when he had first arrived in her hospital.
"So that monster has got a friend. How touching. However, this situation has nothing to do with me. And I refuse the offer, Tsunade. And there's nothing you can do about it."
"Itachi—"
"My mind is set. I won't help that murderer. This conversation is closed. And I will have to decline the sake date as well. Now, if you would please excuse me."
This time, he did go through the papers in rapid pace, if only to escape the hell hole he felt suffocated in. Minato's death…he clenched his fist tight, his nails digging into his palm. As he reached for the door knob, Tsunade's quiet voice stopped him.
"You're my only hope, Itachi. If you don't accept, I have nothing to give to the client. And our business's reputation is on the line here. The person who called is very, hm, powerful. If I decline, I'm afraid that would be the end of the Green-Stem Therapy Administration. And after all the work and effort I put into this company…a waste. A shame, really."
Itachi turned around, his one elegant eyebrow twitching.
"You…suck at making guilt-trips."
Tsunade gave him a sad look, her brown eyes glinting with hidden mischief which she hid well.
"I thought you cared for me? I would grow so indebt without this job…having to live out in the streets as some poor hobo that nobody would take care of. You don't want that to happen to me, now do you?"
"This…is not working, Tsunade. Try again."
Tsunade's eyes snapped up, instantly losing all the fake-sadness and humor. In a frantic raze, she yanked the phone of the receiver and quickly dialed a number. As it rang, she spoke again evenly, "Fine. You talk to him." She motioned him closer before handing over the wired phone.
Itachi glanced down warily at the ringing phone, "Who did you call?"
"Gaara Sabaku. He's the one that called me earlier about Mr. Uzumaki's therapy."
"Hello? Tsunade, is that you?"
Itachi cleared his throat before speaking.
"No, this is the Green-Stem Therapy Administration, with therapist Itachi Uchiha speaking. Is this client Gaara Sabaku?"
"Ah, yes it is. And pray ask; is Tsunade in the hearing vicinity as well, Mr. Uchiha?"
His eyes flickered to the silent lady, who nodded while chugging away at another sake bottle.
"Yes, she is. I am using her land-line at the moment. I am the therapist she has considered for this case with, uh…"
"Naruto Uzumaki-Namikaze. His name is not a disease."
"I understand that," Itachi seethed through clenched teeth as he forced his tone to be polite. "But you see…"
This was going to be a long talk.
