Hey! Guess who?
Lalala...here's chapter 10!
OMG! We're on ten!
Anyway... this chapter...was hard to design. So, basically, the two events happen at pretty much the same time. Kabuto comes first so that I can concentrate on the GaaNaru afterwards. They start within minutes of each other though, so think parallel. YOU CAN DO IT!
Randomness: Lordi
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Suit Square
These were the high-class suburbs; sure, the houses all looked alike and rather like mini-hospitals, but they cost a lot. Status symbols didn't necessarily have to be pretty. Perfectly cropped lawns – god forbid someone would plant flowers here! -- , white paint, two or three sleek cars in each driveway – no, not the garage, who would see the new paint job if it were in the garage? -- , silence.
That was all there was to it. In Kabuto's opinion, anyway.
He'd gone right along with higher corporate society when it came to choosing his house(suburbs; okay, if he had to), his car(hell, it was free, even if the gas wasn't), and his hobbies(sex with a certain beautiful black-haired teen in aforementioned car excluded. Oh, and of course none of his colleagues knew about his Rambo obsession. But hey, those were details.).
He'd deviated in only one category.
It was, looking back, the stupidest category to veer off course in. He should have just owned up to liking bad 2D-vids of muscular men killing each other and dreaming of slim boys instead of buxom blondes. Though, to digress for a moment, he did suspect that quite a few of his colleagues were closet homosexuals. He wondered, briefly and with a slight twinge of something that he didn't want to define, how many men from his department had already indulged in Sasuke's charms.
Kabuto brushed the unbidden thought away and went back to bemoaning his lack of clearheadedness. Pulling the key out of the ignition and sliding out of the car, he cast a glance up to the sky. It was close to five, the gray clouds already starting to darken.
Corporate society hadn't evolved that much since its conception sometime in the late nineteenth or early twentieth century. The men were tall, wore suits, sat at desks, shouted around, drank brandy with their business associates, paid lots of money for everything, and had wives...
...that were docile, sweet, loving and had the mental capacity of a corncob.
Kabuto adjusted his glasses with a mournful sigh and slammed the car door closed, clicking the 'lock' button on his electric key as he made his way up the grainy concrete of the driveway. The garage door was pulled up, the clutter of Aki and Tsume's toys, bikes, and whatnot friendly in the gloom – it looked lived in. He skirted the bumper of the other car, a gleaming, shocking, frightening pink contraption that he still rued having paid a few thousand cel for.
But it had shut her up, at least.
Up the steps, around the dried out flowerpots – she tried to keep some plants alive on the small porch, and failed miserably except for in the cases of the cacti – and through the door. Kabuto scanned the entrance hall a bit apprehensively – he was in a very good mood; he didn't want it spoiled – and began taking off his shoes.
White walls, of course. The furniture and the tatami were all the same light golden color, a warm tone that made the place at least inhabitable. The entrance hall led to the narrow flight of steps to the second floor, and the kitchen, bathing, living and eating rooms tapered off it on the ground floor.
He dropped his keys on the dresser next to the kitchen doorway. Muffled, exuberant voices sounded from behind the door to the living room – his children -- , but the kitchen was ominously quiet.
Like the silence before a storm, Kabuto thought wryly, and chuckled inwardly at the accuracy of the statement.
He stepped into the kitchen, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. "What, I don't get a greeting?"
She was standing at the counter, pouring rock candy into a blue bowl. Kabuto tried hard not to gag. Concentrated sugar. Ugh.
Her head whipped around, her eyes narrowed. Her raucous voice hit his nerves like a chainsaw. "What the fuck is up with you, you piece of shit! Why are you home so fucking late, huh? You think I don't fucking know what's up with you?"
Kabuto adjusted his glasses again. His mood was deteriorating rapidly. "What a loving welcome." An image of Saskue in his kitchen, muttering a taciturn welcome – not smiling, Kabuto wasn't that delusional -- , rose up, and he squelched it. Gah. Not good. Well, yes good, if it were ever to come true, which it wouldn't, but --
Gah. Focused. He had to be focused. What was he doing again?
Pink hair streamed out over tanned skin and pale fabric – she was wearing something amorphous and unflattering – as she stormed over to him, bowl firmly held in one hand. "Damn you, fucker! You think I don't fucking know you're fucking around behind my fucking back?"
Oh, right. Fighting.
"Impressive. I do believe that was five times in two sentences. Though I've heard from reliable sources that you swear even more often while you're spreading your legs for Kidoumaro."
Her teeth gritted audibly, and her hand clenched around the bowl. "Fuck you!"
"No, thank you, Tayuya dear. As you've oh-so-graciously pointed out, I've already done that today, and I must admit that I'm quite worn out."
Well, watching her stalk up the stairs muttering a stream of expletives sure did help his mood recover.
Gah. Why oh why had he felt the need to be a rebel?
Kabuto stepped into the kitchen and took out supplies for dinner. At least Tayuya kept the fridge stocked up. And the maid in line.
A door opened down the hallway, and he smiled slightly – he didn't smile often, but they were worth it.
Well, Tayuya had been good for one thing.
Tsume launched herself at him first, her arms wrapping tightly around his left leg. He chuckled. "Hey, let me keep my balance!"
The little girl grinned up at him, her rose-colored hair mussed from what had probably been a long afternoon of playing. Her lavender eyes were huge and bright in her face as she exclaimed, "Tsume wants spaghetti!"
Kabuto laughed softly. "Huh, she does, does she? Well, we'll see. I might just make spaghetti."
He looked up, following the sound of a second pair of small feet padding softly over the tatami. Aki was wearing his usual defiant expression – he was Tayuya, just a bit calmer and without the swearing – and stepped up to his father with an indignant cry. "You're home late!"
Kabuto finished laying out vegetables to cut and turned to his son, raising an eyebrow. "Was I now?"
"You were!"
Tsume joined in. "Yeah, you were!"
"Well, I was then. But what can I do about it? It's already happened."
The children frowned in unison, puzzling out a good punishment for their tardy father. Kabuto pushed away an image of the reason for his being late, stretched out beneath him on the backseat. No. Aki and Tsume shouldn't be related with Sasuke in his mind. They belonged in two different worlds.
Tsume's face lit up. "I know!"
Aki looked at her skeptically. "What?"
"Spaghetti!"
Kabuto looked at his son. "Good enough?"
Aki scrunched up his face. After a few seconds, he nodded, scowling. "I guess."
Kabuto smiled. "Well then. Now, Tsume, I need to be able to move."
Tsume let go of his leg, and he turned to the counter. "You two can go play again – Aki?"
Aki stopped on his way to the door. "Yes, Dad, I've done my preschool exercises."
Then they were gone, and Kabuto could hear them giggling in the living room. He turned to the vegetables, glancing at the water-filled pot of the oven to check its progress. As he began slicing succulent tomatoes and carrots, he let his mind run over the day. Cooking was relaxing, a way to process the events and calm down.
Work had been uneventful, an unusually large order stressing him slightly – who the hell needed twenty thousand "§§3$6(A/N: Insert impossibly complicated piece of machinery here)s? -- but not enough to be truly angry. Oh, right... there'd been that incident with Sakon, his neighbor – his twin, a punk who seemed to make his living off selling discarded bottle-caps, had appeared at around eleven and demanded money. Otherwise, nothing of note had happened.
Then the vid... he'd been late because of the massive order, had forgotten the time. But the kid -- Sasuke – had still been there, so it ended well. It had been an amazingly stupid vid, entertaining but nothing else.
And... what had come after that...
Kabuto stopped chopping and struggled with his libido for a few moments.
Clamping a decisive hold on his imagination – and memory – he went back to work and let another smile cross his features. It was the smile reserved for the universe that didn't encompass Aki and Tsume, the place that had Sasuke written everywhere.
The next action vid would be playing in two days.
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Okay, so in the end this is one chapter, and the next will be GaaNaru. Remember, that one starts at around five too!
Tell me how you liked this one!
Honestly, reviews make me update! I was about to leave it at one update yesterday, when Bambi left me a nice, longish review, and I cracked. I was all, Aww, how cute...and felt really guilty.
So thank Bambi-chan for chap 9!
And me for chap 10!(And also freakin' idoiot, who REALLY wanted to know who Kabuto was married to)
Please review!