Hello the world!
Disclaimer: I do not own nor Naruto nor Long Vacation.
This story is co-authored by StarsOfYaoi.. Thanks for your hard work!
This chapter is dedicated to Edy for her Birthday: Happy Birthday!!! :D
This chapter is un-beta-ed, please take it into consideration.
For all those who though that I had stopped writing: No, I didn't! University (or rather the idiots blocking it aka I had to fight to go univ' and was too tired to be able to write) forced me into a very long non writing period... . Added to that that my dear SOY was hit by the terrible writer block's illness that seems to attack a lot of Naruto's fanfic writers.
Important: I'm not trying to bash Sakura even though it look like it the goal is too show how shallow/stupid some people can be. I may remind you that 'my' Sakura (because honestly she had next to nothing of Kishimoto's sixteen-years-old Sakura's persona) has a real life model! This is not really bashing!
Thanks to all the reviewers: Devil-Speaker;NiChee; dagget; DeathGodGirl;Mad Mardigan; Kougyoku; DarkRavie;PirateCaptainBo; creepy crab; txgirl123;Creasias; tokiko-chan; lkj (hmm Sakura is the bad guy of the story and she will have a lesson teach but no death for her); ddd (hey that's Sakura :p); eTerNaLzAnzI98;Hime; frogger666; lady-ribbon (thanks for your two reviews); sydneydallas; lildevil425; cutsycat (I'm sorry I didn't answer your review sooner . But here is the long awaited chapter); Catgirl4351 (Thank you very much for both your reviews! And ItaNaru will come soon I hope... The day will pass slowly (for this one day) because a lot of thing happens);shu (thanks there is your update); rozengrass;PurpleKiwi.
And a special mention to ProudSakuraHater who reviewed Five time the chapter 5 (I know I've made you wait too long! Mea Culpa!) and no Sakura won't end up fat at least I won't write that far into futur who knows what the futur held for Sakura and I don't know this Timbaland's song or at least it does not ring a bell.
And thanks to all those who added this story or me to their alert!
Enjoy!!
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Long Vacation
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Chapter 5:
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Sakura's face paled drastically; her shoulder tensed as she quickly diverted her eyes from the tall figure that was standing in front of her, trying to suppress a shudder.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath, mechanically moving out of the suite barefoot, abandoning her shoes behind and not bothering to listen to the pleas of the tall black haired man, who was worrying over her health.
'If I ignore it, it will disappear, like if it has never been there…' she kept repeating this like a mantra, trying to reassure herself.'Nothing happened, nothing!'
In her haste to run away, she slammed the door close whilst exiting the room, hurrying down the corridor with barely concealed horror; despite her distress, she managed to find the elevator, a few meters away, and walked up to it, her shredded dress swirling and curling around her as she moved.
'Don't let this reach you! Must stay dignified! Head up!' she scolded herself, lifting her chin up high as she frantically pressed the elevator button, willing the doors to open as soon as possible. Her wide eyes were roaming around, scanning the hall, praying hard for no one to see her current state.
Finally, the automatic doors opened with a muffled whirr, and Sakura threw herself in the elevator's cabin, pushing the bottom and breathing in relief when the doors closed behind her.
No, thankfully that horrid person didn't follow her in; honestly, she was not sure she would have had the strength to look at him too long, let alone speak with him and still keep her polite front, the one she practiced for so long to achieve.
The mere thought was revolting.
She was quite proud of her acting skills, since she had fooled numerous people, men and women alike, old, young, from the meekest to the heartless, she had managed to seduce them all; manipulating, twisting their minds, until she could attain her goal.
Of course, that could only work if she was able to keep her temper in check, and she knew that some things were too much, even for her.
Just like that… person, back in the suite, whose name she could not even properly remember anymore –Li, Lai, something like this– she could not speak with him keeping her front intact, she would have surely ruined it all by lashing out at him.
Turning around, keeping her back on the doors, she watched her distorted reflection on the golden metal board, methodically combing her hair with her hands to put it back into place; rummaging through her purse for the small powder–box she used to keep in there, she scolded as her reflection of her face appeared in the round mirror of the box.
Apparently, she had lost one of her lens, and the thought was enough to ruin her mood a bit more… she would have to buy new ones again, and it was such a bother!
Readjusting her make up, she added more blush on her cheeks, quickly brushing some eye–shadow on her eyes, blinking twice to adjust. Blinking again, she fought the urge to massage her left eye, that was already starting to hurt.
Gritting her teeth, she looked up, uncaring –it would have to wait, at least for the time being. Sighing, she finished the inspection and after placing the powder–box back in the purse she smoothed out the dress as much as she could, trying to hide the wrinkles.
The elevator reached Ground Floor with a loud ping, and Sakura straightening up, stepping outside in the hall, her chin up and a small polite smile on her face. Walking up to the reception desk, she pressed her manicured hands on the wooden surface.
"Excuse me…" she started, with a sweet–coated voice, elegantly hiding her condescending undertone. "Could you please call a taxi for me?"
"But certainly, I can." the young receptionist replied just as politely, picking up her phone. "Your taxi should be here in a minute, miss. If you would, please, wait here."
Sakura turned around with a curt nod, eyes meeting with an old couple that was watching her; the old woman was whispering something in her husband's ear, loudly enough for Sakura to hear, about her unacceptable get–up.
The pink haired young woman gritted her teeth, hiding her anger and showing restraint as she walked past the old couple, not even sparing a glance at the two as she passed by.
Outside the doors, her taxi was already waiting for her, and she thankfully directed it to her new apartment.
She arrived there half an hour later, utterly exhausted, and carelessly threw her purse on the console in the entrée way.
It was not even midday and she was already feeling the stress weight her down, such a horrible morning! All she wanted was to take a bath, nothing more, nothing less. A long, relaxing bath.
Moving to her bedroom, she caught sight of the post–it she had scotched on the mirror hanging on the wall, the pink ink clashing terribly with the dark yellow of the paper 'Meeting 12h work TV Tôkyô, (Nihon Keizai Shimbun) 4-3-12, Toranomon, Minato-ku, Tôkyô (1)'.
Looking down at her watch, Sakura realized it was just ten. She had the time to take a bath, that was for sure.
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Whilst other people paced through rooms whilst phoning to unnerving associates that had nothing better to do than get nosey, Itachi had the habit of staying still, his eyes never wandering from the spot he was looking at.
Though the distress with his associate was clear by how his left brow twitched lightly every now and then.
"No, not today, anyway…" Itachi muttered in his phone. "Why?... that is none of your business… no, I don't care, not at all… this is what you are here for, Kisame…"
Itachi let out a small huff as he hang up on the conversation, effectively ending the discussion he was having with his associate. The man had the bad habit of being pretty nosy, especially with Itachi's matters, and even if he was used to it, the fact still bothered him.
Soon after leaving his parents, tasting the freedom he had not been able to fantom under the control of his father and clan, Itachi found himself with many directions open for him to follow. He had a clear idea on what he wanted to do, since despite his father's acting, he had liked his lawyer studying. He did not want to quit with it.
That was why, after finally creating his own office, he had associated himself with several other lawyers he had met in court rooms, and that he had some sort of respect for. Many of them had been harsh, but competent, and all in all Itachi had felt they were just the right people he wanted to work with.
He had to admit that their work was, for the most part, far from legal, at least under the surface, but those were matters that held no importance. As long as he got what he wanted.
It was not a matter of justice or injustice. Living in the Uchiha clan family erased all morals Itachi could have had in his childhood. He only accepted cases he could feel some interest in, and that he could easily win, but there were some exceptions to that.
He had rules for himself, rules that no one gave him but that he accepted without thinking about them too much –reveal information about his cases was a no–no, so not even his secretary knew about these (she also did not know anything about his… not–so–legal intercourses).
Also, even though he often did not differentiate between the innocent and the guilt, as he never judged those he defended, he still had lines he did not want to cross. Like child abusers, for example. Or mass murders.
The group he had helped create was not by all means a congregation of lawyers that worked together, but more of a secret organization of sorts, where each one had their specific department to work with, and their only interaction was when it was required.
There was Sasori, who worked with his partner Deidara as notary –fighting daily over such meaningless things as art–, there was Hidan, who by far was the one who enjoyed death penalty cases the most, even though his idea of justice was distorted by the strange, under–religion he followed -whose God demanded blood to be spilled for him.
The one he had been having a conversation with was Kisame, the one amongst the 'organization' that he worked the best with –no matter their altercations– who specialized mainly on divorces and similar, but that also helped Itachi out on his cases and was pretty useful when it came to information gathering.
The name of the organization was Akatsuki –whispers of that name, hushed and fear–laced- filled the undergrounds of all the cities, even though no one knew if it really existed, and who were its members -as no one of the associates wanted to use their real names when crossing the legal line.
A shrilling ring echoed through the apartment as Itachi was about to place his phone down on the nearest counter, effectively shaking the Uchiha out of his thoughts. Placing down his cell phone, he slowly proceeded to the door, picking the hand microphone that was hanging from the wall next to the door, on the left.
Satisfied that the apartment had a small entry phone, with a camera on the outside, Itachi picked up the receiver and looked at the screen in front of him.
"Yes?" he muttered, frowning darkly as his eyes narrowed at the person showing on the screen.
The strangled and high–pitched voice of his secretary squished through the receiver and effectively managed to deafen Itachi, forcing him to distance his ear from it in order to understand what she was saying.
"Uchiha–san? It is Minako".
After a small hesitation the dark haired man pressed the button for the building door to allow his secretary in, listening to the soft buzz sound coming from the outside.
"6th floor, apartment number 616," Itachi added coldly before hanging up.
A few minutes later, someone knocked at the door. Quickly, Itachi opened it, finding his secretary precariously balancing herself out, with two bags hanging down to her hips, and one on each shoulder; in her hands, she was holding a black suitcase.
Itachi took the case from her, walking away and leaving his secretary at the threshold, not even bothering to invite her in –which any other person would have considered very rude.
Moving past the coffee table, he opened the case and clicked open his laptop, connecting it to the nearest wall–plug with no hesitation.
Minako, who had been standing still until then, finally decided to speak, unable to take her eyes away from the apartment. "So, Uchiha–san…" she began, with a trembling and shy voice "so… ah… you're going to live in there?"
Taking off her shoes trying not to look clumsy, pushing them in a corner with her naked feet, Minako entered the main room, scanning around the place with her dark brown eyes; she quickly assessed the various pictures on the wall, the furniture and the books as she juggled to hold the bags better.
It was not a bad apartment, at least she thought so. Pushing a strand of her short dark hair behind her ear, she bit her lower lip in wonder, frowning when the strand stubbornly moved again on her forehead.
Minako frowned, eyes narrowing as she took in the small details she had overlooked at her first glances around. It was obvious that a woman was living there –the green plants, strategically placed in the corners, the lavish pink curtains tied with a reddish bow at the kitchen's window, the dark pink cushions that were adding colour to the white sofa…
Yes, everything screamed of a woman's touch. Minako could feel the strong stirring of jealousy move inside her chest, but tried to ignore the feeling. Maybe it was just a woman's touch of an already decorated apartment, before her employer leased it out.
Maybe there was no woman living there with her boss…
"Where do I put those?" she finally asked, trying to sound casual and not intrusive as she spoke.
Itachi made a vague motion to the two doors at the other side of the room, his eyes never lifting from his laptop, and Minako nodded, walking to the door on the left, assuming this was Itachi's room.
Her back low for the weight of the bags, she entered the room, exiting it only seconds later. She had few time to actually glance around -she could not actually snoop- but she had been right about her employer: he had found a woman.
The bedroom was the absolute, indisputable proof of it.
Biting the inside of her mouth to prevent her face from showing the wild emotions she was feeling now, Minako made her way back to where Itachi was sitting, shifting uncertainly as she approached.
He was escaping her.
After all this time, carefully spent trying to attract Itachi's attention on her, dressing as properly as she had to, looking professional, competent, the perfect secretary anyone would want; after weeks and months spent learning all she could about law so she could be of help, wiggling her hips, showing him her brains and her body as well…
Itachi found someone else.
Where?
Who?
Who could be better than she was?
Minako licked her abused lips.
"Uchiha–san?" she hesitated, but did not stop. "Do you, by any chance, have a… roommate?" choosing her words well, carefully, she stepped forwards.
It was then that Itachi finally looked up from the screen, turning accusingly dark red eyes on the woman that was standing a few feet away from him, looking down at her hands as she shifted pathetically on her feet.
Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes meeting with Itachi's red ones, and blushed.
That was it, he would understand her devotion, her love, he would surely tell her something now, that–
"Minako" Itachi began, his voice as smooth as silk. "You're fired".
The jingle of the computer signalled that Windows had loaded completely, and Itachi returned his eyes to the screen, completely ignoring the woman that now stood frozen in the middle of the room, unmoving.
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Higashi was pacing in his office, his mind going through the talk he just had with the ex–fiancé of his daughter, replaying it over and over.
He did not even notice he had knocked off a stack of papers out from their ordinate pile, too deep in thought to notice they had fallen on top of his desk, crumbling together in a chaotic mass.
Never in his life had he faced such a shocking, life–changing talk, ever before. Never had his beliefs been shaken so throughout, so much he felt lost.
Until the day before, every thing about it all had been certain. But, today, his world had crumbled under his feet, collapsing away.
A bitter smile found its way on the man's lips, as he remembered all too clearly that just twenty hours before he had been hoping -for nothing more than a split second- for the marriage to be cancelled, foolishly believing that his life would remain unchanged through it all.
He would have never thought it to be possible for his sweet, innocent daughter to be the one cancelling it out, the one betraying her word.
He had imagined that the bastard –as he had taken on calling the blond fiancé of his daughter in private– would forsaken the wedding, for some miraculous reason, and there he was, utterly mystified that he had been wrong.
That the child he had given no second thought in hating was not the poisonous snake he believed. Not only had he been wrong about the blond, but also -and this hurt more than anything else- about his own daughter.
He had to shut his eyes close as they fell on the picture of his beloved child that he kept on the desk, picking it up and holding in his hands, unable to look down at it; he knew it by memory anyhow… a child not older than six, dressed in a silly pink dress, holding her favourite toy, a teddy bear of the same colour as her dress –Monsieur Ours– cuddled in her puffy arms.
She was smiling at him, back in a time when, finally out of their hardships, Higashi and his wife had been living in happiness, trying to let Sakura have everything she wanted.
Higashi could remember the scene perfectly, in front of his closed eyes –Sakura giggling and trying to reach up to him, and his wife laughing as he fumbled with the camera, unable to make Sakura stay still enough to flash a photo, then, in the end, he managed to make her calm down by giving her Monsieur Ours.
She was his little angel.
Always had been.
What did go wrong then?
How on Earth had his little lovely angel turned into a rotten, spoiled princess? Had he been so blind not to see the tell–tale signs before?
His grip tightening around the frame, fingers trembling in fury and guilt, Higashi pressed too hard on the thin glass layer, making it crackle under the pressure, blood from his now bruised thumb tips slowly trickling down the cracks.
The faint but instant pain was welcome as Higashi's eyes fluttered close again, hoping it could erase, if only for a second, the pain he felt deep in his heart.
"Do you remember, anata (2)?" the soft voice of his wife broke the trance he was in, shaking him out of his musings. "Do you remember that she wanted to be like her daddy when she grew older?"
He turned around to face her.
"She was such a sweet child..." Mikoto murmured, her black eyes filling with tenderness as she pried the picture away from her husband's grasp.
She passed her hands on the back of her pale blue kimono to smooth it down as she moved to sit on one of the brown–coloured soft leather sofa; placing the picture on her knee and took out her handkerchief, unfolding neatly at her side before proceeding to delicately take out the small shards of the broken glass.
She still remembered clearly the day the picture had been taken: it was at her blossom's sixth birthday, as she was putting to bed her little Sakura. The young girl was still wearing the pink wig that was part of the princess attire she wore for her birthday party; her Monsieur Ours, the cute little bear her father had bought her whilst returning from one of his business trip in France when Sakura was four, was being held tightly in her arms.
She had never parted from it when she was little, not when she left to go to school, nor when she had to go to the doctor or the dentist –she even took it with her during a trip to Ôsaka with her class, coming back crying because she had ripped a bit of its left ear.
But now… Monsieur Ours did not matter to Sakura anymore.
Mikoto felt a wave of nostalgia pass through her, together with a painful twinge at the thought. Maybe, just like Monsieur Ours, she as well did not hold any importance in her daughter's eyes.
A lone tear fell down her cheek.
"Where are you?" she whispered, her voice cracking as she traced Sakura's chubby face with her index, tears now freely running down her soft cheeks.
Higashi looked down at his wife, his heart wrenching in pain at the mirrored one on her face. A feeling he thought he would never feel for a member of his own family was now blossoming in his chest, growing stronger with each moment passing by… and he was feeling it for his daughter none the less –resentment!
What a terrible feeling!
It was burning down his throat to his chest, feeling helpless as he watched his family crumble down… and what for?
He knew who was at fault –it was Sakura, his own flesh and blood, his only child, his beautiful rose and yet, as a father, he should have been able to forgive her for whatever mistake she might have done. But he could not find in himself the strength to forgive her for making his precious Mikoto cry.
Was he a bad father?
Was he wrong in thinking that any daughter causing their mother to cry was a bad daughter?
He thought back to his past, his life as a father: he had always tried to be a good parent, always placing his family before anything else, coming home early, spending time with his wife and daughter. He had imposed himself a curfew, and the same to his entire administration department's employees –19 o'clock at the most. Then he would close up and go home, and play with his little rose up until dinner, and then he would be the one to tuck her into bed with a kiss on her forehead, basking in the big, sparkling eyes of Sakura as she carefully listened to his stories of princes and princesses, her favourites.
He would always buy her presents when, for some reason or another, he had been forced to come home late, or when he had to move out of town for work. Each summer, he would go on a one–week vacation somewhere in the world so his rose would see all those different cultures, exploring those countries he had dreamt so much about when he was a young man.
Turkey, China, Korea, Bombay, and even two weeks in America, spending time just with Mikoto and Sakura, making both happy, showering them with love –and he loved them so much.
He had really done his best to raise her; she was intelligent, and terribly so! She went to the best of schools, regardless the price… doing anything so she would get a life, to be able to do anything she wanted, with no restrictions, even if it was merely to become a make–up artist.
Anything for her.
Maybe… maybe he had spoiled her far too much, in his fear to not be able to make her happy. And now she was… where was she?
"Tôkyô" Higashi said abruptly, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "She is in Tôkyô".
Mikoto lifted her head, eyes wide.
"Tôkyô?" she repeated, a desperate undertone.
Oh, how she hated that city. She had lived through her worst moments in Tôkyô, and just thinking about it filled her with dread. She did not want to go back in there, never!
How could… how could she get her daughter back if she had moved off to that place?
Mikoto's hands trembled as she dropped the frame from her lap, watching it with unseeing eyes as it fell on the white carpet, where it laid broken, as a mocking reminder of an old, long since gone past. Burying her face in her hands to muffle the choking should of the sobs that were racking through her, Mikoto cried, unable to stand the horrifying truth of Higashi's words.
She could feel the presence of her husband standing still a few inches away from her, not touching her, but comforting her a bit at the same time.
She took a deep, shuddering breath: "We have to go there! To take her back!" she yelled, looking up at her love with tear–stained cheeks. "Anata(2)…"
Higashi looked harshly at his wife, his anger overwhelming his previous comforting aura.
No, he could not forgive her. He could not, would not go after her. He could not spoil her more than he already did, he could not act as if Sakura was right in hurting both him and Mikoto! He could not close his eyes again, even if a part of him wanted to…
She had made her own decision, and this time… this time, he would not help her out. It was over. Over. The time had come for Sakura to finally taste what reality was.
"No, we won't." Higashi said harshly, his voice calm but final. "She has a week. A week, to repent from her decisions. If she is not back by then…" he did not have to continue.
Mikoto cried out, latching on her husband's hands, the despair still heavy inside her chest.
"Anata…" the woman pleaded, her eyes filled with new tears, tears of despair. "Don't–"
"She has made her decision. It is time for her to grow up." Higashi said softly at his wife.
The man's eyes were dark as he walked up to his desk, picking up his phone with slightly trembling hands and dialling a number. After a moment he heard the click that signalled the connection was open.
"I'm Mister Haruno… I want to speak with Hatake-san…"
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The day was just perfect. Obito was humming happily, going nowhere but simply enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin, and he was moving down the street, a half–plan to watch a movie later, when he caught sight of someone he knew on the opposite side of the road.
Blinking and rechecking if he was actually right, he was overjoyed to see that it was true –Naruto was walking right there. A grin slowly wormed its way on his face, making him immediately look younger.
"Naruto!!"
Honestly, Obito did not care if the few passer byes were watching him as if he had grown a second head, scurrying away as if he had some infectious disease; the person he had wanted to talk with was on the other end of the street, and he was not going to pass up that occasion to speak with the blond, only to follow some unwritten rules of politeness, or whatever rule he was breaking.
For him, things did not work that way. He was carefree and hated constrictions, whilst his 'family' still tried to impose its control on him; but Obito did not really care –no one would ever control him, he did only what he wanted to.
A smile formed on his face as he saw the blond looking around frantically, trying to locate who was calling his name. At last, Naruto finally noticed him waving.
"Wait for me right there!" Obito yelled, gesticulating frantically, trying to convey his intentions through his gestures. "I'm coming over through the footbridge! Don't move!"
Naruto smiled a bit with a raised eyebrow, watching the older man on the other end of the street; he had always thought Obito was a bit weird, but in the nice way. He really liked him, feeling as if they shared some kind of understanding. Obito was funny and anti–conformist, loud and cheerful, and he did not hide it.
Sometimes Naruto wondered if there was more to him than what transpired by his attitude, not to mention the fact that the man had never told him his real family name; but then he reminded himself that he did not really care about it… to him, Obito was Obito, that was all.
"No strings attached, I am a free bird!" was the way he answered whenever someone would ask about it.
Sometimes Naruto wished he could be able to pull off that carefree act like Obito could, but he knew better than that –Obito was not really carefree, at least not entirely. He was hiding.
"Naruto? Hey, oh? Naruto?" Obito was waving his hand in front of his face, trying to catch the blond's attention, making Naruto blink in surprise, shaking himself out of his thoughts.
"Ah, sorry..." Naruto blushed and scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile, as Obito made a face at him. "So, what brings you here?"
"I wanted to speak with you," Obito said as he began walking down the street. "Would you come with me?"
"Ah, yes… I am really sorry for yesterday," Naruto said walking up to Obito and falling in a pace at his side. "I made you waste a day…"
Obito smiled sadly at the younger man, "You are not responsible of that, Naruto".
The two walked in silence for a minute, but it was not an uncomfortable one. Naruto busied himself by looking around, wondering if Obito would mention the previous day again or not, and the older man just looked in front of him, whistling something in a low tune.
"Anyway," Naruto was startled by Obito suddenly speaking, and turned around at him, watching the raven haired man take a deep breath. "I need your help… I really need it, you know".
"My… help?" despite the situation, Naruto was vaguely intrigued.
He was happy that Obito was not treating him like a china doll, ready to break down any moment, crying like a baby; somehow, Obito understood his pain but also that he was not going to break down like this… he would not cry for Sakura ever again. He had promised this to himself, and he would never go back on his word.
He did not need people pitying him. He was strong enough.
Bouncing forwards and turning around, so he was walking backwards in front of Obito -turning around every two seconds in order to avoid any obstacle- Naruto grinned, his spirits lifted.
"Ne, ne, how can I help you?" he asked, looking Obito straight in his dark eyes.
"I need your advice about a gift for… for Kakashi." Obito grinned back, his eyes sparkling.
Naruto smirked, his own eyes lighting with mischief.
"I know exactly what he would want to have, and I know how to get it!" Naruto whispered almost conspirator–like.
He skipped ahead, grinning. "Here we go!" he yelled, punching his fist in the air, running happily.
Obito followed happily; he knew he had chosen well when he decided to ask Naruto for help, instead of speaking for hours about Sakura, their crashed wedding, and what the blond would be doing from now on. That would have been not just counterproductive, but useless. Naruto was strong, and he did not need pity.
He just needed a friend.
"There!" Naruto stopped in front of a soft blue and black shop, motioning Obito to follow him as he pushed the heavy door, producing a loud chiming that echoed through the shop.
"Irasshaimase(3)!" a young woman said, bowing deeply at them, her short black hair falling in front of her eyes like a curtain.
Lifting her head up, dark eyes lit up seeing who the new customers were "Naruto?!" her polite smile turned into a warmer one "please, come here!"
She was at his side in a moment, almost fussing over him as she checked him up and down. Naruto scratched his nose, blushing a bit at the attention.
"You look fine" she started, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Did you drink?!"
"Hey, Shizune nee–chan…" the blond exclaimed, embarrassed.
"I'll go call Tsunade–sama," Shizune sighed, shaking her head.
Naruto grinned.
"I don't need to see Tsunade baa–chan, it's Jiraiya the one I came to see… I need something from him…"
Shizune's eyes narrowed even more in anger, communicating a clear message.'You'd better not be turning into a pervert'.
"For a gift!" Naruto added quickly, waving his arms in front of him.
Obito shifted a bit, unsure on how to react to that scene, and Shizune looked over Naruto's shoulder, staring at the unknown man.
"Is it for… this friend?" she asked, not quite believing that the dark haired man with the warm eyes could be a pervert.
Naruto smiled sheepishly, nervously rubbing the back of his head as he turned a bit. "Shizune nee–chan, this is Obito–san" he said, waving his arm in the man's direction.
Obito nodded gracefully, Shizune bowed a bit.
"Obito–san, this is Shizune nee–chan."
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To be continue
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(1) Tôkyô TV: I am sure every one know that it is the famous channel that products loads of anime for our greastest pleasure! Nihon Keizai Shimbun is the media corparation owning it. The adress used is the adress of the headquarter of Tôkyô TV. But I am reminding you this is a fiction! I may use things, write about things that does not exist in reality. This said: TV Tôkyô is absolutely not a creation of mine!
(2)Anata in this context means Darling.
(3) Irasshyaimase: Welcome
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Note from co–author: review, review, review, review… you know you want to…