unedited/ not proofread 5/28/21

Chapter Nineteen: Close-up

Sasuke

Close-up

The subject framed by the camera fills the screen. Connotation can be of intimacy, of having access to the mind or thought processes (including the subconscious) of the character.

Hey dude
Kept my eye on that zetsu guy all night
Only spoke to your grandpa like twice but he does give off shady vibes
Hope you two are fine
Naruto

Something is off. I'm not sure whether it's because of last night's events, her fever, or both, but I know something is weighing heavily on her mind. How could there not be? After the shit my grandfather pulled last night, it's understandable that she's deep in thought and worried about what's to come. Hell, I am too. There's not a doubt in my mind that whatever he has in store for us won't be easy to overcome, and there's that irritating, nagging voice in the back of my mind that has been ceaselessly reminding me that it's my fault she's been thrust into my mess.

I can't help but scoff at my own thoughts. If she were here at this moment, knowing what I'm thinking, she'd most likely chastise me too, mentioning that we're now partners and that it takes two or something of the like. But that brief sense of amusement disappears quickly back into my initial concern. Would she be the same right now? After seeing her in the state I left her in my apartment?

Her cheeks looked hollow, her eyes heavy with no sleep, her skin hot to the touch. Not to mention her behavior. Perhaps it's solely because of her fever, but there was a chill in the way she'd spoken at times, a rather distant demeanor, the complete opposite of the woman I've gotten to know as well as I do now. I should have stayed behind, ignored her telling me to do otherwise. But it's been months since I've seen my mother open her eyes, let alone move an inch on that damned hospital bed she shouldn't even be on to begin with had it not been for the mind-numbingly complicated state of this family.

Maybe I'm overthinking things. I could simply ask her when I get back. She's with her closest friend. It's not like she was left alone. But the whispers of worry in my mind don't seem to want to leave me be.

I hear the door open, and my eyes focus on my brother entering the room again, looking like he had not slept a wink either. I stand from the couch, a hand casually finding its way into my pants pocket as he approaches.

"You look like shit," I say, meaning no offense. Only saying the truth.

Itachi chuckles softly to himself before shaking his head at me. "You don't look too different either."

Do I? I look down at my attire. Just a simple black shirt, a jacket, and pants. Nothing too different. He, on the other hand, hadn't gone home and spent the night in this room, so naturally, he'd look ruffled, his hair a mess and his clothes wrinkled.

"I'm not talking about what you're wearing. You may have showered, but you look like your mind is elsewhere."

I narrow my eyes. "Where else could my mind possibly be when I'm here in our parents' hospital room?"

Itachi's smile ebbs into a line, his eyes softening at my defensive response. "Sasuke, it's okay. You of all people have plenty to think about. No need to feel guilty."

"I'm not."

"You'd think being an actor would make you a better liar." He sighs.

"Can we change the topic?" I ask, looking away, my gaze falling on my mother's hospital bed. "What did Dr. Senju say?"

"Mother's condition is still stable for now. But nothing new since last night."

"Then what took you two so long out there?"

"She wanted to discuss something else." Itachi lets out a long exhale as he takes a seat. "Mainly what we plan to do next."

I raise a brow, my back straightening at the implication. She knows the vague gist of the situation, but the mere fact that we're going against Madara's wishes was reason enough for her to let us have our parents admitted here in secret. "Meaning?"

"We're going to have to tell her everything."

"And will that be safe?"

"She's someone we can trust, Sasuke. If anyone in this city has the same amount of power and influence as grandfather does, it's her. And we need all the help we can get."

"We've fared fine with just us until now."

"Yes, but with what you told me about last night and the added complexity of the nature of your relationship with Sakura, we should be as prepared as we can."

"'The nature of my relationship'?" I parrot the words back at him disbelievingly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have a short fuse today, otouto. I merely meant the popularity you two have on the public. The brighter you two shine, the faster you will burn is what grandfather's thinking, I'm sure." There's interest in his eyes, an inspecting squint of his lids proving it. "And because grandfather has his sights set on you both, we need more help. Mother can't speak yet, father is still unconscious, and there's not a doubt in my mind that grandfather has had his pieces moving long before now."

I simmer in silence, mad at myself more than anything. I shouldn't be taking out my stress and frustrations on him.

"Everything okay?" He questions, worry slipping in his tone, and lines on his forehead form from the concern in his visage. "Was there more to last night than you told me?"

"No, it's not that." My fingers meet the skin at my temples as I attempt to gather myself, but that only makes my dilemma more apparent to him.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say it has something to do with your currently sick girlfriend."

"It's not a wild guess if you know the gist of what's happening in my life." I sigh, giving up all pretenses and taking the seat next to him on the couch to let my shoulders sag. I study the white ceiling and the lines between each panel.

"At least she's resting. I could tell just meeting him was exhausting to her."

I say nothing but hum in agreement.

"You don't want to talk about it."

"Not at the moment." I wouldn't even know where to start. Not to mention mother's within earshot. I wouldn't want her to worry about anything else but getting better at the moment. "We should discuss the serious stuff outside the room."

One last look at the two hospital beds in the room, then we both stand.

The door clicks to a close behind us just as Itachi's phone begins to ring. Taking the device out of his pocket, I catch a glimpse of the caller ID. Shisui.

It's a short call, and I wait as Itachi nods and mutters brief replies, curious. "Come to the hospital. We'll discuss everything here with Dr. Senju." He ends the call, putting the phone back into his pocket before looking at me. "He says he found something important."

He leads me down the hall to the receptionist desk where Izumi is busy looking through some papers. She looks up briefly, hearing our quickened steps on the tile floors. The brief second we pass by, I see she can sense the unease radiating from the both of us, the corners of her mouth in a slight frown. She doesn't stop us to ask, nor does she show that she might want to. Instead, she nods at me, perhaps acknowledging that she knows enough not to bother us in our haste.

It only takes us less than five minutes to reach the large doors that lead to Dr. Senju's office. Itachi knocks, and we enter after hearing her voice telling us to come in.

Dr. Senju's behind her desk. There's paper piled on her desk, open folders and colorful graphs face up at the ceiling. Her computer screen is on, but the brightness is low, signaling that it's almost close to going to sleep due to unuse. Her laser focus on the flat-screen TV on the wall across from her tells me why.

It's an aged video, the quality dating it to a time before I was born. Despite that, I immediately know who's on the screen.

"What's this?" I ask, eyes squinting to study my grandfather's face. It lacks the wrinkles that came with age, and his eyes were less guarded, calculating. Dare I say it, maybe even warm.

"It's a news broadcast from when he had just started his company," Dr. Senju says, hand on the remote and raising it to put it on pause.

The headline on the screen read "Former A-list actor turned business mogul".

"And this is for?"

I see her brown eyes cast a judging look at me before she sighs, out of annoyance or resignation, I don't know. "Is there something urgent you two wished to discuss with me?"

I turn to Itachi, his back against the wall as he crosses his arms. "You said you wanted the specifics."

Her eyes narrow.

"And seeing as you've helped us this far, it's only fair we oblige. The private investigator I've hired will also be here in a few minutes to discuss new finds."

"This is regarding your parents' accident?"

He nods. "That and… more complicated matters related to it."

"Then quit with the walking on eggshells routine."

Deciding to let Itachi rehash the situation himself, I take a seat on one of the four seats before her desk.

"You're aware of our contentious relationship with our grandfather and our suspicions he's behind the accident."

"That much was already obvious."

"I believe our parents found something he didn't want to be found. He denounced me as heir and intends to have Sasuke have the title because he believes he's more malleable to his wants."

I scoff. It's true that he thinks that way, but how he came to that conclusion is beyond me.

"Things have only become more troubling. Last night, he threatened Sasuke's girlfriend, and we have proof he's been in contact with her former manager who was responsible for many issues in her career and is now serving time in jail for other crimes related to it."

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she does so. "That much isn't shocking. He's aiming at them because they're public figures. Makes little Sasuke here a more susceptible target because of his star power, not to mention his girlfriend's. Tell me something I don't know."

Little?

"What is it you do know, then?" I interrupt, irritated.

Once again, she regards me as if I'm a child asking to be scolded. She may be decades older than I am, but that doesn't mean I have to take this. "Who pissed in your cereal, kid?"

I feel my irritation rise and anger simmer to a boil in my stomach. Itachi can tell and speaks before I have the chance to. "He's had a rough couple of days."

To her credit, she doesn't poke nor prod at me afterward, but it's clear as day that she has something to say about that. Perhaps I'm lucky I don't have to hear it now.

Although Tsunade Senju and our relationship with the woman isn't the least bit hostile in the same way it is with my grandfather, she is known to be not the kindest woman. She isn't a terrible person, but she never cuts corners and is known to say what's on her mind without stopping to think twice. It's a curious thing, why she ultimately decided to help us with this issue. Surely disdain for my grandfather can't be the only thing. For all she knew, this could have been a ploy to get into her business. And yet, she helped. I had always wondered what her true motive is, but never really questioned it until this moment.

Itachi continues to rehash events. Going over the failed attempt at what would have been my arranged marriage as well as the growing involvement Sakura has in this endeavor, I notice that the more he mentions her name, the more her eyes appear to narrow.

"So what you're saying is, essentially, you are aware the two are being followed and that that old piece of shit is up to something, and that's all you know." She sighs, fingers laced in front of her as she looks to be contemplating something. "All that from months of sleuthing?"

"You know just how secretive our grandfather is."

"Here I thought I'd have at least something."

"Something for what?"

As soon as my voice cuts in between theirs, both sets of eyes set on me. Itachi's tell me to reel in the anger that's been on the low boil and Dr. Senju's examine my features in an almost surgical manner.

"Why even help?"

A smirk rivaling that of a Cheshire cat lifts the corner of her lips, but it's less devious and more impressed. "And here I thought you ate your tongue with the way you just sat there saying nothing."

I don't respond to her taunt, knowing better not to unless I'd rather hear a mouthful than the answer I want.

There's a moment of pause, one I don't particularly like. For a moment, I thought she wasn't going to respond, but the moment her chair gives a slight screech as it moves back when she stands, she calls our attention back to the TV screen.

I stare back at a more youthful image of my grandfather, at a time when his eyes weren't so devoid of warmth, a time I'd never experienced.

"Have either of you ever asked that old man why he stopped acting? Why he decided to be some bigshot?" Her hands find the remote again and she presses a button, the video begins to play again. The volume is on low, so I can't hear what he's saying, nor do I understand the reason why she put it off pause.

Itachi and I share a glance. Had we? Maybe when we were children, but it's not something I recall. It's something he must recall, though.

"When we were kids. He just said he grew out of it."

"Grew out of it, huh?" She doesn't sound convinced. "Not exactly what my grandfather said."

Her grandfather? Hashirama Senju?

"You are aware they used to be all buddy-buddy, right?"

Itachi nods.

"Back in my college days, my grandfather would have me around him while he worked just so I could get the gist of what I was getting myself into once I started working." She walks to the front of her desk, remote in hand, and presses pause right as a photo of three people flashes on the screen. "This interview happened to play when we were in his office. Grandpa didn't seem too happy at what he was seeing."

On the rare occasion that I did see Madara smile, it would be a small one, and hardly ever genuine. I'd seen some of his old films and, even then, there was something beneath the surface that displayed something dissembling. No matter how well he acted, you knew that's what it was, an act. I have that suspension of belief when watching actors I know and are acquainted with, but I could always tell even before knowing just how crooked he is. I had always thought of it as something I'd innately know because he is my grandfather, but is that truly the case?

"I was too busy taking down notes, but I did hear him whisper something to himself."

Itachi's eyes flicker back to the screen as she speaks.

"'I warned him.'" Tsunade folds her arms. "Warned him about what, exactly? Never asked him at the time, but he'd never really tell me the exact reason why his old best friend suddenly became his worst rival. I only ever started hating the man because he's the biggest asshole in the industry, treats me like I don't head my own fucking business."

"You think your Hashirama Senju kept something that could tell us what we know?"

"If he did, this would be the only thing. I only got it because it was with the estate he left for me in his will."

"And who are they?" Itachi's finger is pointed at the screen.

Grandfather stands in between two other men with similar features. Family, most likely. One significantly older than him, his hair grey and face aged, but he still stood tall and with the aura similar to that Madara exudes now. Power and authority. The other man on his left looked about his age, if not younger, and made it clear he didn't want to be there.

She raised a brow. "You don't recognize your own family members? That's Madara's father and his younger brother."

I feel my chest tighten, and my breath hitch in my throat. Younger brother? Itachi shares my shock, though he masks it better. He quickly shields his thoughts from appearing on his face, but I spotted the initial hit of surprise in the way his lip twitched and the way his hand twitched. He may be good at hiding things, but he has certain tells that make his thoughts obvious.

"Judging by the fact neither of you is saying anything, I take it you've never met them. I knew Madara kept that fact a secret from just about everyone, but I didn't know he'd have hidden it from his own family." Interest twinkles in the woman's eyes.

"Why did he keep this footage?" Itachi finally speaks, his tone hints at a demand on the tip of his tongue. "And how did he get it? This would have popped up in our investigation by now."

"Not if your grandfather wanted it hidden. I mean, if he can hide the fact he had a brother from the public and you for so long, he can hide anything, don't you think? From what I gather, he had this interview re-edited and that picture wiped."

"And back to the question you never answered," I interject, tired of the roundabout but dizzy from noise racketing in my mind. "Why exactly do you want to help us?"

"Two things." She raises two fingers. "One, figure out why my grandfather kept that tape. For a man he's supposed to despise, he sure didn't seem like he did. And two should be obvious." Her stare turns intense, serious. "Give that motherfucker what he deserves."

And as if on cue, there's a knock on her door.

Shisui's here.

I ride the elevator up to my apartment in silence, but my mind is restless. It has been for quite some time now, but with the amount of new information I'd gotten in the span of a few hours, it's no surprise.

It's known that Tsunade Senju hates Madara Uchiha, and while I can see why, I understand her reasonings slightly better now. But while my grandfather has secrets, she does too. It didn't escape Itachi and me that she dodged a lot of our questions earlier, and did the same when Shisui arrived. She didn't strike me as someone with ill intent, not to us anyway, but it's suspicious. Though, for now, we do need her connections and her influence in the business world to get out of the information rut the investigation has been in.

Shisui did have new information, but all of it alluded to one thing—Red Cloud. And we still had no idea what it is. No doubt, it's something underground, something more nefarious. But that's only off of our hunches. What's a hunch compared to solid evidence?

But one thing continues to irritate my thoughts, cloud over everything else in that meeting that confounds me. Grandfather never really spoke about his own father, only telling us he was someone to look up to, someone to respect, and that he'd passed. Not once did we ever visit his grave with him. And when I'd ask father about him as a kid, he'd always say he died when he was young, so he never got to know him much since he was always away.

And while he rarely spoke about grandfather, he never spoke about his brother. A brother neither Itachi nor I even knew about until today. Our parents never mentioned him having a brother, and that information isn't online, either. We wouldn't have ever known if not for that tape and if not for Tsunade's odd but helpful information that she's somehow privy to.

Itachi and I might have asked her more questions if not for her appointments and schedule in the hospital. While I do find her suspicious, I can admit it is admirable how she manages to handle the schedule that is required of someone who's both a doctor and a CEO.

I know Itachi can handle things while I go back to film in Kiri, but I do feel guilty that I can't be of much help in the meantime. The only thing Sakura and I can do while filming is be cautious and figure out who grandfather hired to trail us.

A groan reverberates in my throat as the back of my head meets the mirrored wall behind me while I mindlessly stare at the red numbers changing with every floor the car goes past. My mind's been so preoccupied with the ever-complex family issues I was born into that I had managed to not stress about the only woman capable of distracting me from the turmoil my family situation brings.

Hopefully, she's rested enough. With our filming schedule, no one would want her to be sick for too long. Least of all me.

I breathe out a heavy exhale and let the feeling linger, let it float through the small space like a calming haze to cloak everything else if only for a moment. Ever since Itachi mentioned it last night, and even earlier today, I still can't wrap my head around it. I'd admitted it to myself just last night, but it's still difficult to process. Now is not the time for any of that, especially with what could happen if my grandfather got his way.

This was all supposed to be a distraction. The movie was supposed to be something to pass the time, to get my mind away from the bullshit. And yet, all it's done is double the stakes and amplify every single one of my concerns as well as add to it. Scratching an itch became a rash I can't get rid of, an aphrodisiac turned into a desire I've come to not just want, but crave in ways I never expected. Because I don't want it to be just desire at this point, and that in itself astounds me.

I suppose I should have seen it coming. Maybe not at first, but with each interaction we share, each secret uncovered, it becomes glaringly obvious that the way I treat her is different. I care. I truly do. It's unusual since we haven't even known each other for a year, and she can already read me so easily. And I don't mind that she does. Every quirk I've come to know has become endearing and every look we share a secret conversation where no words are necessary.

I met her because I wanted a distraction, and she became one. She is one. Only she's a distraction that ended up embroiled in the mess I was already in. And I can't help but allow the guilt to seep through my skin and into my system. I've made things more complicated for her. She was already dealing with so much, and I selfishly brought her into mine.

And the realization stings. It's a fire that burns through the hazy fog I'd allowed myself to be overcome with, and now I'm staring straight into an inferno with no way out, reality flaring at me.

There's a loud 'ding', and the elevator doors open. It takes me a beat before I walk out into the empty hall where my front door is only a few feet away. I fish my keys out of my pocket, and as I'm about to turn the key, I can hear Sakura's voice faintly from the door. Instantly, I get a bad feeling.

I turn the key and open the door, but the first thing I see isn't her eyes. It's her back at me, her phone in her ear, and her body facing the windows. Her shoulders are slumped, and I can tell that whatever I saw in her this morning that was a part of my concern hadn't left.

"But I have not once ever let out my frustrations to you about the things you put me through because I felt guilty."

It had festered.

"Do you not care?"

Her question comes out in offense, her voice above a whisper but not quite aggravated as a yell.

I take a quick look around the room. It looks like her friend had left. How long has she been alone?

"I know I should have, but-"

It doesn't take long to put two and two together. I know who she's talking to.

"I sure as hell wish I was drunk now. To listen to what you're saying! Almost two years of being lied to, and you got off without hearing a peep from me because I felt bad about your situation, yet when I finally muster up the courage to talk about it, you act like what I feel doesn't matter?"

Hearing the frustration in her voice spurs something inside me. Maybe it's the effect of every single conflicting emotion I've felt this entire day finally coming to a head, or maybe it's the way I know she's hurt, and I know it's by the man that had somehow managed to keep her by his side for two years despite his lies. Or maybe it's all that and then some.

"Overreact? Almost two years of my life, Sasori. Why would me being mad at that be an overreaction?"

I close the door behind me gently, so she can't hear. Who called first? Was it him? Why would he call out of the blue for no reason just to piss her off? And if it was her, why call him in the first place? Is there something she didn't tell me last night? Why call him now, especially when she's sick?

She's sick.

I quell a coming groan. She shouldn't be stressing herself out more. Why isn't she hanging up?

"What the fuck, Sasori? What the hell happened to you to make you sound like so much of an asshole right now?"

I take a few steps forward, feeling the irritation continue to rise as her anger begins to soar. Enough of this.

She finally turns, and her entire body freezes as she spots me, but I don't stop walking, not even when I see her watery eyes. I'm not sure if it's from anger or sadness, but the thought of it being the latter pisses me off.

I stop right in front of her, eyes boring into hers with the questions she knows I'm about to ask. My open palm is in between us, and her eyes drift from mine to it. I can sense her hesitation, the quiver of her lower lip, and the quick intake of breath. Her cheeks are flushed, and there's sweat on her brow. She's still unwell.

She takes a deep breath before uttering a soft "Wait," to the bastard on the phone before handing it to me.

I bring the phone to my ear, my eyes never leaving hers.

"You done?"

The bastard sounds irritated.

"Depends," I say, and the brief moment of silence tells me he's taken aback. "What have you been saying to her?"

"Who's this?"

"You know who it is." I almost growl, but I stop myself.

I hear him scoff on the other line. "Tell your girl not to call me."

I raise a brow at Sakura after hearing this. So she called him. She looks away, somewhat ashamed. And I find myself missing her self-assuredness, the self-assuredness I first caught sight of in that cafe in the studio lot. The Sakura I know, though with peeks of self-doubt, has a strong sense of self. It may be drowned out by those insecurities every now and then, but I know deep inside that it's there. And with everything that's been happening, it makes sense that those insecurities crept up now.

"If she called you, she must have had something to say. Though, I don't know why she'd waste her breath on you." It's best to hear an explanation from her, not him. "I shouldn't either."

I press end call, not bothering to let him say another word. It's not what I want to hear.

Sakura looks down, a heavy, almost shuddering sigh escaping her. "How much did you hear?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes— No—" She brings her hands to cover her face. "I don't know."

I place her phone on the coffee table behind me before placing my hands on her wrist, carefully removing her palms from her face. I feel an odd sense of relief after not seeing tears. Instead, I see exhaustion. As her hands fall to her sides, I bring a hand to her forehead, and no doubt, she's burning up.

"You're still sick."

My hand finds the small of her back, intending to lead her to her room to rest, but her feet remain planted on the floor.

"You're not mad," she states, almost surprised.

I have the strange urge to laugh. "No. I'm pissed."

"You're not mad at me."

"I should be. You should be resting."

"But—"

"Do you want me to be pissed at you?" I sigh. "Get to bed, then we can talk."

I bring a chair to the side of her bed and sit, watching as she fidgets, her back on the bed's headboard.

"So," she starts. "How's your mother?"

I stare at her incredulously. "Is that really what you want to talk about?" Is it what I want to talk about right now? Not at the moment, especially after that phone call.

"Yes."

"She's fine," I say immediately after her response and fold my arms. "What was that? And where's your friend? I thought she'd be here with you."

"She had a photoshoot scheduled."

"And is that why you called him? For someone to talk to?" It's a preposterous idea, one I know isn't the answer, but just the thought of it irks me.

There's hesitation in her eyes, and I try my best not to let it affect me. But I remember it.

"Why, indeed?" There's a mirthless laugh in the room. Hers. "God, that was a stupid decision."

I nod, not wanting to say anything else to let her continue.

"You remember when you said I didn't forgive myself? On the boardwalk?"

I recall the afternoon. It was after that impromptu interview was aired.

"Well, Ino said something like that when she was here. Made me realize that I can never forgive myself if I never get proper closure." She looks down at her fingers on her lap. "I thought we were on good terms. Apparently, he doesn't think so."

"You thought you'd get closure while you're sick?"

"I know, I was hasty, but I just thought—" she looks up. "—I might not ever feel spurred enough to do it if not then. I didn't expect him to be so hostile."

I think of what to say. On the one hand, I'm proud she worked herself to call and attempt at getting closure, but at the same time, I'm angry. Angry she did so so hastily, while she's not feeling well. Most of all, I'm pissed off that despite Sakura feeling that they were on good terms, the bastard spoke to her the way he did.

"I thought you'd be angrier," she whispers.

"You want me to yell at you?"

"No."

"Then stop saying that."

"I just— Sorry. I can't seem to think straight."

"You still have a fever. You shouldn't have called him."

"You don't think I know that after all that? How was I supposed to have the foresight that instead of the relatively nice guy that invited me to dinner with his boyfriend would answer like I was the biggest pain in his ass?"

As soon as she finishes, there's a panic in her eyes, her hands lifting to cover her mouth. I process her words, then it hits me. She said 'boyfriend'. And based on her reaction, that must be the big secret she's been withholding about the situation. Why she said that she feels bad about his 'situation', why she alluded that there's more to the story.

Then it hits me.

"He didn't just threaten you, did he? My grandfather."

This afternoon's events and information come barrelling back into the forefront of my mind alongside all of this. Sakura was distraught last night. Grandfather had bribed her, threatened her with more than just the information he's had someone following us. The way her body stiffens tells me I'm not far off, if not, I've hit the nail on the head.

Notes:

I thought it'd be best to end this chapter here so that the rest of the conversation continues in Sakura's POV and also because this chapter is so information-heavy already, that maybe adding more to this would be a bit much in Sasuke's POV.

Sorry for the long update wait, but life got in the way, and I had to put my mental health and personal life first. It's been a while since I've written for this fic, so I hope it's okay. Hopefully I'm not too rusty lol.

Speaking of fics, I am part of a SasuSaku Fanzine called Trends and preorders for the Zine open on May 31st, 2021! I wrote two SS AU fics for it, one sfw and one nsfw, so if you're interested, please check it out! So many other SS fan content creators are on it as well. You can find out more about it on their Twitter SasuSakuTrends.

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Anyway, 'til the next update!