Chapter 7: Control

Suppose I never answered the phone, would it have gone straight to voicemail? And if so, I wonder if I would have heard the answering machine. Would I have even bothered checking it? Probably. Regardless of whether I answered or not, I'm sure this day was bound to happen; the day where I am sitting and having lunch with my roommate's successful girlfriend. With the added feelings of being in the middle of something I have no business being in. The uneasiness is worse than the first day I started teaching. I think I'm getting a headache.

"I'm so glad we arranged this, Sho-san," Sakura begins, settling down at the table for two. "I've just been waiting for the chance to sit down and talk."

"Same here," I reply half-heartedly, taking a seat as well. Come on, Sho. Get with the program and put your game face on. I quickly fix the dishonest smile tempting the corners of my mouth; "It feels like forever since we've seen each other."

"I know, but what can we do," she agrees, matching my smile and thanking our waiter who hands her the house menu. "With us women having to juggle our jobs and men, we can barely squeeze in some free time to ourselves."

"Oh, right. Definitely," I speak, pretending as if I can relate at the moment. Although I'm fairly busy with teaching and after school tutoring, I have plenty of alone time. Albeit I should stop wasting my free time watching movies and spend more time finding a new hobby that doesn't involve grading papers or reading.

I thank our waiter as I'm handed my own menu. I flip through it, glazing over most of what I'm reading. My appetite isn't up to speed with me, and nothing is catching my taste buds. I'll probably just stick with a few slices of sashimi from the cart and a bowl of rice.

"I hope you don't mind me asking this, but are you currently seeing someone?" I hear Sakura ask, and I briefly look up from my menu. "The reason why I'm asking is because I was hoping to have someone to talk to about relationships."

"I don't mind you asking, but I'm actually not with anyone." I reply, and once I do, I see Sakura's green eyes lower in some form of disappointment. I quickly gather more words to speak, "I mean, I was with someone for about a year. I'd be more than happy to listen to whatever you have to say. I think I have enough experience to understand anything that you're going through."

"Are you sure it's alright for me to talk about this?" She asks, leaning slightly over the table. "I won't bring up anything related to relationships if it makes you feel uncomfortable."

"It's perfectly fine, I can talk about anything," I assure her with a smile.

She nods, placing her menu off to the side. "Alright, well, it's about Lee."

Of course, I state in my mind, reaching out to my glass of water and taking a sip.

"He hasn't been acting like himself lately. And I don't know if it's just around me or in general."

I lower my glass back onto its coaster, "How is he acting differently?"

Her brows furrow, digging her sight into the table, "I don't know. He's just not as energetic as he used to be. Has he been acting strange at all at home?"

"Um," I gulp as Sakura's eyes lock onto mine. "I don't see him all the time, but when I do he seems to act like himself. Of course, he does have his under the weather moments."

A sigh escapes her, "Oh, Sho-san. What should I do?"

Oh boy. I have never followed my own advice before, but I always seem to have a knack for giving it to others. Unlike me, other individuals aren't the epitome of hypocrisy. They're at least able to take it and make use of it.

"I think communication is really important in a relationship;" Say's the girl who couldn't even bring up the fact that there was foreign underwear in the laundry hamper to her ex. I clear my throat and pestering subconscious, "It's best to be direct with your partner, especially with Lee-san. I don't think he's the type of person to express what's troubling him so openly. He most likely does this out of curtsey, since he probably thinks it's unnecessary to trouble people with his problems. And instead tries to deal with it internally. Even though he might be terrible at keeping it a secret, it's good that it's noticeable and can be talked about sooner than later."

"You seem to know a lot about Lee," her lips crease slightly, "You two must get along pretty well."

"I guess you could say that. We just happen to live together so…" I take a nervous swig of my water. When is our waiter getting back to take our orders? "When you live with another person you tend to just pick up a few things about them. That's all."

"Right, that makes sense," she agrees with a nod. And I'm overall relieved to see our waiter casually making his way over to the table. I instantly beam at the opportunity to break away from our current conversation. I fetch the menu I placed off to the side, happily order my food, and thank the waiter. Sakura does the same, and the waiter bows his head, dismissing himself. My shoulders sink as I watch our waiter leave, dreading to give any more dating advice to my roommate's girlfriend.

Especially since I…

"Anyway, enough about me, I would really like to know how things are with you," Sakura begins, and I break out the mental sigh of relief.

"Things are fine, thank you." I reply, with a formidable smile. "Just doing the same thing like always. Teaching, tutoring, revising lesson plans. Can't really complain."

"Same goes for me," says Sakura, flipping a few stray pink locks tickling her cheek. "It's just work and more work at the hospital. I can hardly catch a break. If it isn't one dislocated shoulder, then it's Cervical Radiculopathy. It gets so crazy sometimes, I feel as if I'm working at a zoo."

I merely chuckle at her comment, since I can't fully relate to her work life. All that I can gather is that our career choices are somewhat dissimilar. The only correlation I can see is the amount of stress caused by demanding patients and misbehaved children. I guess it's all the same. So I believe, until Sakura begins explaining to me the days she gets called out for missions. Now that I sit here, listening to her near death experiences, I come to terms with the fact that our jobs are very different. As far as stressful career choices are concerned, Sakura takes the cake. I don't know how she has managed up until this point, but it's a miracle that I'm even able to have a conversation with her. If I were to take her place during those missions, you could bet a good coin or two that I would be six feet under within the first minute.

I can honestly say that Sakura has me beat with this one, added with the rest of her talents that completely outshine my own. I admit it to myself that I am a bit jealous, but the degree of admiration that I have for her out weights the former. I'm sure it has taken a lot for her to get to where she is now, and for that, I congratulate her on a job well done. Never in my life could I have possibly endured the life of a shinobi, and I'm reminded how lucky we are to have them.

We continue to talk pleasantly about recent news and other great restaurants in town. Our waiter returns with our meals, but our conversation never breaks. I even catch myself laughing at a few humorous statements of hers.

"And do you know what's the funniest thing about life?" Sakura gestures the rhetorical question to me, and I smile and shake my head. A small chuckle escapes her lips pressed against her second glass of white wine, "You never know who you're going to be until you get there. Life is so unexpected, so careless, that no amount of planning or wishing will get you to where you want to be. "

"Tell me about it," I breathe, sipping lightly on my own glass of plum wine.

"It's so funny, Sho-san. I remember having all these expectations when I was younger. I just wanted so much out of my own life, but didn't understand the work I needed to put in to get it. And even then…" Sakura pauses, softly laughing after capturing another taste of her alcoholic beverage. Her emerald hues reflect a bittersweet resolve as she fiddles with the stem of her glass; "I made it difficult for a lot of people while growing up. I even hurt those who are special to me now. I have this tendency of being selfish and spoiled."

"I don't think you're that at all, Sakura-san," I comment, gazing at her with sincerity.

"Well, maybe not now. But definitely back then," she replies, catching my stare. She sends me a smile, but it's falling at the corners of her mouth, "You know. I didn't like him at first. Not one bit, actually."

I lower my wine glass, "Are you referring to Lee-san?"

She nods her head carefully, fixing her napkin placed on her lap, "Yes. There was a time when - even though I appreciated the things he would do for me, I just wouldn't take him seriously. But without fail, he would keep trying and trying, just to even have a chance to take me out for dinner. Or just anywhere, really." A weak laugh breaks her speech, but she resumes; "It was ridiculous, most of things he would do to try to convince me. Of course I denied him, but never once did I stop to actually consider him. I knew my reasons though, and I just didn't find him attractive."

"Did you not find him physically attractive, or was it more with his personality?" I question, truly interested in her confessions.

"As terrible as this might sound, it was actually a mixture of both," she answers, drawing an expression of pure self-loathing. Her ache is so evident; I can feel the discomfort in my own chest. Her eyes then float towards the restaurant window, taking in the quiet afternoon streets; "I'm very lucky, Sho-san. Even after all those years of pushing him away, he never left my side. If it weren't for him, after Sasuke decided not to return to Konoha after the Fourth Great Shinobi War, I wouldn't have been able to smile the way I do now."

That name – isn't he…?

"I'm sorry, I don't completely understand," I profess, wringing my hands against my lap. "Who is-"

"Sasuke Uchiha, missing-nin, affiliate to the Akatsuki, and international criminal. However, pardoned after the Great War." Her words are quick, intercepting my own. I blink wildly, her hues staring directly into my own without faltering, "I loved him, once. It was a while back, and it was pretty foolish of me to continue loving someone like him for as long as I did. But I couldn't stop hoping, thinking that maybe-"

"Things could work out, right?" I finish her sentence, with a timid upwards curl of my lips.

"Right," she says quietly, returning with a smile of her own. Sakura then clears her throat, noticing our waiter returning with our checks. We down the last of our wine, pay our dues, and head out.

Once we are outside of the restaurant, Sakura turns to me, "Thank-you, Sho-san. For having lunch we me." I'm about to welcome her, until she advances forward and gathers me in her arms in a friendly embrace. "And for everything else."

A lump of regret springs up in my throat, but I manage to choke out a few sentimental words, "No, I should be the one thanking you."

Because now I know…I'm in way over my head.

o o o

I have started a new game plan. For about a week now, I have delved in nothing but revising lesson plans and humoring countless romantic novels – even the ones that have no intellectual value what so ever. The terrible grammar and poor syntax are actually welcomed, since it distracts my thoughts and forces out my inner critic to entertain me. I'm trying to occupy myself as best as I can. All my endeavors are aimed to take up my time and keep myself from having unnecessary contact with my roommate. The only time I have initiated a personal conversation with him was Wednesday night, when unfortunately there was no signs of toilet paper after doing my business. I rather not go into the little details, since it was pretty embarrassing, but assumptions can be made and I'm just going to leave it at that.

With that being said, I have taken my usual spot on the couch. It's a pleasant night in as I flip through one of my more favorite romantic novels. I'm reading it for a second time since I purchased it a few weeks ago. I have had the apartment to myself since I got off work, and I'm enjoying this moment to relax in the living room instead of hiding away in my woman cave. And I know I have been neglecting my chores since becoming an anti-social creature skulking the second bedroom of this apartment. Thus, I'm even being productive enough to do some laundry between my readings.

The humming noise of the washing machine in the hallway closet lulls me into a rested state while I read. Although my book is fairly capturing, I can see the words on the pages slowly blurring together. And before I know it, my eyes feel weighted like stone and close all on their own. My head follows shortly after, rolling onto the arm of the couch, while my hands slightly release their grip on my book. At this point, my body's wants and needs prevail above all else, and sleep takes me almost instantly.

I don't know exactly how long it takes for me to wake, but I do, and it's due to small and persistent noises. I inhale slowly, allowing for my awareness to rise with my chest. As I come to, I notice I'm fully curled up on the couch, draped with a blanket, and my book set aside on top of the coffee table. Still foggy with sleep, I'm unable to rationalize how this happened. I quickly prop myself onto my elbows and blink away the sand from the corners of my eyes.

The small noises that woke me grab my attention again, and I shift myself so that I peek over the side of the couch towards the kitchen. Once I do, I'm met with the domestic sight of my roommate washing and drying the dishes by hand. I then turn my sight back to the blanket covering my body, which I know doesn't belong to me. This blanket doesn't even smell like me, I state mentally. I also take in my book neatly placed off to the side, although I know I fell asleep with it in my hands. Probably drooled on it even. I groan and mutter something of incoherence, uncovering myself of my roommate's obvious sentiments.

I should've just slept in my room.

"Are you awake now, Yamada-san?"

The minute hairs on the back of my neck stiffen at the abruptness of Lee's voice rising above the clanking of dishes. I give a look at the blanket, as if it was the one speaking to me, "Mhm, could you tell me the time?"

"It is just about to turn eight," he replies, and I'm staring off into the space between my book and me. I then remember that I haven't said anything to recognize his answer. I settle on a nod and small 'OK'. His words then continue to fill the living room, "Did you sleep well?"

I clear my throat and shift myself into a sitting position on the couch, "I did, thank you for the blanket."

I hear the kitchen sink turn off and my roommate casually making his way over. Apprehensively, I take the blanket and begin to fold it, hoping to return it as soon as possible. I finish folding it on my lap and look up, catching the green shinobi standing next to the coffee table with a grin.

I feel sheepish but hold a smile of my own, extending the prepared blanket towards him.

"I do not need it right now, so you can put it off to the side for me," he says, while displaying a stopping gesture with his hand. I follow along and place the blanket on the couch cushion next to me. My attention returns to him, signaling him to speak, "I know and understand that you have been busy this past week, but I was wondering if you could spare some time to help me."

"Help you?" I repeat the baffling words. How would it ever be possible for someone like me, an average person, to help a capable shinobi? I seek to question it, "Help you with what exactly?"

"Well," his voice trails off. I watch as he bends to take something in his hold on the coffee table, which I hadn't noticed beforehand. He holds it up with both hands, and I squint to interpret what it is, "I am going to another party with Sakura soon, but now I am required to dance. I honestly do not know anything about dancing, and would appreciate it if you would help me."

Ah – so here's the catch for the whole blanket thing.

"I don't understand, Lee-san." I attempt to hide a small groan inching up my throat, sinking my back into the couch. "Why do you need me for that? Can't you ask Sakura-san to teach you?"

"No, I cannot ask Sakura." He speaks quickly with a shake of his head. "I want to surprise her, so I do not want to learn with her. And I really need a partner in order to learn faster – you are the only person I feel comfortable enough to ask."

"What about Tenten? I'm sure you're more comfortable with her than me."

"That may be true, but she is out of town on a mission and will not be back anytime soon," he professes, and nudges the video tape towards me, just as a dog nudges its wet nose against his owners hand. "That is why I need you."

Need me? Now that's a lot of pressure for just one roommate.

"I don't know," I murmur, casting my gaze away from his pleading form. His dark ornament eyes, fixed lips, and over-whelming presence are pulling me into this void I'm trying to crawl out of. "I'm not a very good dancer myself. I really don't think I can help you."

"It does not matter if you can dance or not. We can learn together then. And like I said before, all I need is you." He's effortlessly trying to convince me, his eyes becoming rounder and fuller with each passing moment. "Please, Yamada-san?"

Well…he did help me paint my room. Guess I need to return the favor.

I throw in the towel as I draw a breath of utter defeat, "Alright, Lee-san. I will be your partner. But only for a little bit."

"That is perfectly fine with me," he smiles graciously, helping me to my feet. As he prepares the videotape in the cassette player, I lift my arms to stretch and yawn. I'm vaguely aware of the video starting until Lee's presence is next to my own. I cannot contain this sudden pressure inside my chest. As my chin tilts upward to view him, I come to know that he is a full head taller than me. The top of my head barely reaches his jaw line.

Was he always this tall?

His body begins to close the distance of what can be deemed the space kept between friends, touching the borderline of close affection. However, he stops just a few inches before this transparent line, raising a wrapped hand for me to take; "Are you ready, Yamada-san?"

"I think so," I mumble mutely to hide my fluster.

The pressure behind my ribs continues to build. The final steps are for me to take, and it's frightening. I try to push aside my petty emotions and hide away my desires. I regard to myself that this is only a favor, which I owe. I motion my hand to lift from my side, slowly placing it into his open palm. The contact tickles the nerves in my hand, causing me to practically shiver. Yet, the symptoms don't stop there. My feet pass the remaining threshold, forcing my other hand to rest on the space between his neck and shoulder. My heart swells immensely, feeling his free hand rest on my waist. I roll my violet eyes upward, attempting to catch his expression. I'm slightly relieved, (and somehow disappointed) that his focus is on the flashing television screen. My roommate is completely serious about this whole thing, studying the screen with quick observations. I fix my own eyes onto the video, noticing a group of couples following the lead of the instructing couple in the front. Without any music, they are showcasing the basic steps. The video then starts the slow and hopelessly romantic music, queuing my roommate and I.

"Let us dance," he starts off confidently with a stunning grin, applying pressure on my waist that ushers my body to follow his movements. Humorously enough, this confident charade doesn't last very long as his feet clumsily bump into mine, causing us to stagger. A look of embarrassment crosses him, "S-Sorry, Yamada-san. This is actually more complicated than it looks."

"It's fine, I'm not much better myself." I laugh, and as I do, I almost trip over the soles of his ninja sandals. If it weren't for his hold on my waist, I would have tasted the floor by now. A nervous giggle escapes me, "See, I told you I wasn't any better."

"I can see that," he chuckles with me, and his laughter is satisfying enough to paint a silly smile on my face. His eyes then brighten, as if something just occurred to him; "Actually, I think I might have an idea on how to fix our problem."

"Oh, this should be interesting," I bemuse. "Please tell me you have some magical ninja scroll that grants instant dancing talent."

"No, nothing like that. Although, that would be very handy at this point," he says, revealing a grin that matches my own. "I am thinking of something much simpler."

"And what exactly would that be?" I inquire with a tilt of my head.

"Stand on my feet."

My movements come to a complete stop, and I cannot resist my eyebrow rising into my forehead, "Lee-san, I thought the point of dancing was not to step on the other persons foot."

"True, but I am thinking of creating a unique style of dancing. Something more suitable for us." The last word of his sentence is dangerous, for more reasons than one. My throat suddenly dries, especially since his attention is solely on me. "Go ahead. Stand on them."

"Oh jeez, are you sure? What if I'm super heavy and-" I squeak, feeling Lee pull me closer without the slightest hint of a warning. The little distance forces me to stand on his feet, and I choke out the last of my sentence, "hurt you?"

"I think I will be just fine," he replies coolly, which seems rather unnatural given his usual personality. Who the heck is this person in front of me? I can never predict my roommate most of the time, and I feel I know even less of what goes through his mind whenever he's around me. One moment he's plain goofy and sweet, the next he's serious and practically emanating dizzying male pheromones.

I feel myself starting to move, but not of my own will. My roommates making footwork beneath me, stepping and turning, and it feels odd. As he twists and twirls, mimicking the moves displayed in the video, my whole body follows. Then, all at once, I smile. What we are doing is incredibly senseless, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't enjoyable. Us dancing in this awkward and completely unorthodox way is freeing. And just as I start to giggle, my roommate accompanies me.

"See? Problem solved." He's grinning from ear to ear, and I cannot help but stare. His smile is truly brilliant from my perspective. "Now, if only I could dance like this at the party."

"Why not?" I ask innocently, without much thought. "It's very practical, and I don't even have to lift a toe."

"You are funny, Yamada-san. But I do not think I will be dancing like this at any party anytime soon," he replies honestly with a reluctant smile. I pout at his quick resolution, but recognize why he wouldn't attempt it. He quickly changes the subject; "You have very cute feet by the way."

"H-Huh?" If I wasn't self-conscious before, then his compliment has surely done me in. I flick my eyes shyly at my bare feet; Thank god I clipped and painted my toenails recently. I continue to avert my gaze away from his, "I don't think they're all that special. They're just feet."

"But they are so small," he persists, and I feel the heat tingling in my cheeks. "Especially compared to mine! I'm surprised. I have never met anyone with such small feet before. They are incredibly cute."

I gulp down the excessive saliva pooling in my mouth. The ideas and notions swimming my mind are becoming completely inappropriate, and I'm hoping they don't surface in my body language.

God forbid.

"Are you sure you should be complimenting someone who isn't your girlfriend?" I instigate rather quietly, not wanting my embarrassment to bubble up in my speech.

"Maybe," he states plainly, with a simple crease of his lips. "But I am constantly complimenting Sakura. I have been complimenting her since even before we were together. I think I can spare some compliments for a few others, including you."

The blood pressure in my face is rising considerably. I know since my ears are throbbing; this is crazy! I seriously can't be thinking about doing that

"Are you feeling alright, Yamada-san? Your face is all red," Lee observes, and I curse my pale complexion. "You are probably dizzy from all this moving. I will stop now."

I cannot even get a word in before we come to a halt in our dancing. His hold on my waist loosens, and I snatch this opportunity to take a needed step back. My feet awkwardly meet the floorboards below, having me briefly sway off balance. And I damn my roommate for having a unique skill set as he hastily gathers me with one strong arm.

"You should really be more careful, I am afraid you might be the cause of your own death one day," Lee says jokingly, although I'm sure we both know this would be likely to happen. But at this very moment, my roommate doesn't understand that he's the culprit to my suddenly weak legs.

You should have just let me fall, jerk!

My heart practically leaps into my throat. His other hand pushes my bangs aside to touch my forehead, and I almost loose all consciousness. I'm at a lost for words and breath. His hand placed at my forehead glides to rest on my cheek; now entirely flushed from all the warmth gathered at that very spot.

His heavy eyebrows furrow discerningly, "Wow, you are very warm. Are you feeling nauseous at all? Do you want a glass of water?"

"I-I'm fine. Really, I just….I want…" The heated contact is getting to my head. The very words on my tongue are slipping, and all my filters are slowly peeling away one by one. I'm writhing inside, wanting nothing more than to speak my mind – the truth. And the truth is, I want him.

I'm slowly losing control. The week I spent avoiding my roommate was all for not. What was supposed to be a time of distance and fleeting attraction became the cultivation of utter appetite. I cannot restrain my hand from resting on top of his placed at my cheek. I press against the top of his palm, pushing his touch deeper without any conscious thought.

"Lee-san, you don't understand anything. Nothing at all." My roommate's features twist into a dumbfounded expression. My words are baffling him – good. His confusion is putting him a state of vulnerability, a corner he has constantly forced me into plenty of times before. He doesn't understand how easy he's made it for me. With just even the slightest shift of my weight, I could snatch those lips of his and much more.

"Yamada-san, I sincerely do not get what you are trying to tell me," he finally verbalizes with a confused frown. "What do I not understand?"

"Everything." I breathe, filling every inch of my chest. "You don't understand anything about me."

"Well, how can I when you never share anything with me? That and when you decide to ignore me for a full week, which I do not appreciate very much."

He actually noticed and is upset about it?

Now this is something.

"Maybe I don't tell you anything, because you never ask," I reply simply, anchoring my violet hues into his black circles.

"And maybe you need to understand that it is never in my right to ask you personal questions, which I have no business knowing the answers to." As he delivers his words, his arm wrapped securely around me brings me even closer to him. He's so near, I can feel his breath mixing together with mine. Standing before me, he's exuding this intoxicating presence that I cannot pull away from for the life of me. My head is practically swaying on my shoulders, and I motion his hand cupping my face to tangle in my hair and hold me steady.

"Would you like for me to give you permission to get to know me better then?" I whisper, but the intentions of my words are loud and clear.

"I think," he exhales, and I can sense his sweet and heavy breath against my nose. I can almost feel instead of see his lips quivering with hesitation and yearning. "I might actually like that more than I should."

Oh, how this small confession makes me starve for the young man in front of me even more. Whether I'm even in love at this point, or just lusting for physical attention; it doesn't matter. The feeling is interchangeable at this point, and all I'm craving is instant gratification. Within a matter of a fleeting second, our lips will be lock and key, then-

Don't you dare make another move, Sho. Don't you even give a damn about Sakura's feelings? This isn't who you are; you're not this person!

My rational equivalent swings into action; jump starting my morals and inhibitions. I take a sharp intake of air, as if resurfacing from some liquid trance. Hurriedly, I shift back, untangling myself from my roommate's hold.

"I-I can't. I have to…" my eyes are wide, chest pounding, and voice shaken with a tangible shame. "I have to do – laundry! I still need to do that before bed. Doesn't wash and dry itself, you know."

"R-Right, of course," Lee stumbles on his own words. His dark spheres are large with outright shock, with flecks of fluster, "And I still have to – cook! Yes, it is never good to miss a meal. Do not want to wake up starving and chewing on my own arm. How terrible would that be?"

"Y-Yeah! I can definitely agree with that," I laugh nervously, giving a very forced smile. Oh god, how I feel like chewing off my own arm from sheer embarrassment. Quickly, I snatch my book from the coffee table and practically trip over my own feet trying to hurry out of the living room. Before entering the hallway, I give a dismissive hand wave without turning, "Okay, well, good night and see you in the morning, Lee-san."

"Same to you too, Yamada-san." I barely take the time to listen before I shut my bedroom door.

I'm completely silent, dragging my feet towards the bed and flopping on top of it. I go as far as using my novel as a punishing block, bringing it down on my head repeatedly.

I breathe out a delayed sigh; this is a problem...my book isn't nearly heavy enough to induce a comma.