The stillness of the office is deafening, the weak rays of a setting sun dying out dimly against the pulled shades. The seat beneath me is irritably comfortable and I can still feel those pale, blue eyes stare at me, expecting me to say something that I can't figure out. Itachi had asked, no, insisted that I start coming to these weekly sessions with Dr. Yamanaka, saying something along the lines of being of help for Naruto. Something I was actually excited about, and had agreed to with feigned annoyance. Still, every time I come, he only seems to ask about me. How was my day, how I was doing in school. It has become a chore, and I don't see how this will help Naruto out. I bet Itachi used my small blondie as an excuse to get me some help for what he considers my "problem"…Though he has never outright expressed it, or mentioned it, or accepted it, it's obvious that Itachi finds my homosexuality to be a problem. "Is there anything you wish to talk about?" Dr. Yamanaka urges, his tired face forcing a gentle smile despite his obvious exhaustion. I bet that there are more interesting things a psychologist of his level of expertise would rather be doing during the afternoon than to deal with the psychological traumas of a gay-14 year old Uchiha, despite any obvious curiosity that title alone provokes. "Not really, I thought I was coming here all these past days to talk about Naruto." I scoff, pursing my lips almost involuntarily as my arms cross against my chest. He barely has time to hide a burlesquing smile before clearing his throat and giving once again that gentle expression that is beginning to thin my patience. "How is Naruto? As of late, he has barely drawn anything for me." Oh, the trees and houses therapy again. I thought Naruto had moved up from that. Nonetheless, Naruto has slowly but surely been tuning his skill. His drawings are no longer just skewed boxes and crooked circles. He even asked me for paint the other day, and was overjoyed when I arrived with acrylics, brushes, pencils, sketch pad, and an easel with canvases. Itachi even suggested getting him a tutor, which Naruto refused, saying that it was enough with what I already had given him. I was actually quite surprised to know that he isn't spoiled yet.

"He's upgraded to canvas." He chuckles and I can see him turn his gaze to the window from the corner of my eyes. "He's a good kid." I turn my eyes to meet his momentarily before he smiles that wretched smile again and politely informs me that our time is up for today.

Itachi welcomes me home, and I can spot a small puff of yellow hair sticking out from a corner of the patio window. "He doesn't want to come in until he finishes." My eyebrow raises before I can control it, and Itachi smiles widely. "He forbid me from letting you out to see him though. Apparently whatever it is that he's doing, it's a surprise." My heart seems to jump with more excitement than my expression lets on, and he leaves after I offer a forced "Hn". I sit almost too hurriedly into the sofa, pretending to idly flip through the channels as Tanaka comes in and offers me dinner. "Has Naruto eaten yet?"

"No Young Master, he refuses to eat until he's finished." Even he refuses to give me any hint as to what Naruto is doing outside. I'm about to tell him that I'll wait for Naruto when a loud crash echoes from the patio, and I'm crashed back down into my seat the moment I jump up to run after it. "Naruto insists that you not go outside." Itachi is surprisingly strong despite his lack of exercise, unless he works out when I'm in not around. The thought of seeing him without a shirt though is enough to put me off investigating. Tanaka, who had left to check on Naruto, returns to inform us that Naruto is okay, but still not finished. "I'll wait for him." Itachi ruffles my hair and leaves before I can properly insult him. I really do hate when he touches my hair, it's not like I'm waltzing over and braiding his ponytail whenever he sits close by. Only Naruto does. Which, as a reminder, I have to scold him for the next time he does. Painting is one thing, but hairdressing is not a career that I have in mind for that small blond runt. Though I might hire him as a personal frustrater, as he has a knack for causing me just that. Still, a voice whispers from the back of my mind as a wide yawn stretches across my mouth, It wouldn't be half bad if Naruto were to touch my hair. But that's silly, he knows that my "charcoal locks", as he once said to mock me, are off limits to those two destructive hands of his.

There's an almost discreet footstep behind me, and before I can open my eyes I feel a small tug at the top of my head. I can tell by his slight scent of oranges that Naruto is the one touching my hair, his breath halted and shallow with fright as he tries not to wake me. It must be fun, having this small ride of adventure over something so simple as touching someone's hair. I could almost laugh were I not pretending to be asleep. "Naruto," his small hand jerks backwards with what I can only guess was the biggest scare of his short life, "Sasuke was waiting for you to eat, are you done yet?" I open my eyes and see him nodding hastily, his neck almost breaking in the process. "What were you doing out there for so long?" he looks back at me apprehensively but smiles warmly. "After dinner." He signs and hurries off to the dining room. "Why is he allowed to touch your hair and I'm not?" his pseudo-whine almost makes me trip as I step over the backpack I left on the floor. "Cause he's cute and you're not." I ignore the muffled snort and find Tanaka waiting for me at the door, his lips tight and eyes adverted. Luckily, the hallway was dim enough to camouflage the color on my cheeks.

Naruto is already eating as I enter the dining room, his spoonfulls fast and continuous, and I am forced to send him a glare before he chokes and dies in front of me. "What were you doing outside, Naruto?" I repeat and notice that his eyes glimmer mischievously, his smile bright before he sticks his tongue out and continues eating, sending a small shiver down my spine. I take note of how the hairs on my arm stand on end, and feel a smile creep into my face. When was the last time I was so excited over something?

Behind the Uchiha mansion, beyond the small hill that sets our house above the neighboring terrain, is a vast woodland that extends far beyond what the eye can hope to see. During the winter season, the evergreens are covered with a thick cap of snow while the seasonal trees remain barren and contrast against the sea of green and white. In spring, the once dried branches recover their lively hues and the once olive garden seems polka dotted with white and yellow flowers. Once autumn arrives, it becomes an everturning sunset of colors that sheen under the cold, vivid sun. However way you see it, beauty always surrounds this mansion, and even when it was only just me and Tanaka that paced back and forth like ghosts within these walls, there was a somber beauty about the entire house. "It's still a bit cold." Naruto signs with a toothy smile, his small shoulders hunching slightly under the blanket that we brought outside. "Spring is only just beginning," but already the grass is green and moist. Naruto's feet, outstretched before him, tap together in a slow, rhythmic and inaudible clap. Was I also that restless as a child? "When it gets warmer, I want to roll down this hill, and run to the forest and climb the biggest tree."

"You'll fall and break a leg." I smirk at the face of pure horror that he makes. "Only if you don't catch me, besides, if I can climb the wall in gym class, I can climb that tree." I'm sure he refers to that makeshift wall made with bars and futons that you have to jump over and if, by some weird act of nature cause god knows that no kid ever falls, ever, he were to fail, he drops into more futons. That has no resemblance what so ever to climbing an actual tree and having an actual fall where no pretty colored futons cushion your behind. I keep my mouth shut though, because under no circumstance would he be climbing any tree unsupervised by me, and no fall would be uncushioned by my already aching back. "Uchihas don't fall from trees." His surprise is quickly covered by a dazzling smile. I pull the blanket higher around my neck and bury my nose in it, hoping to cover some of the color that has once again, somehow, graced my face. "What was that crash before anyways?" I look over to where Naruto left his easel, and stare once again at the canvas that shone under the patio lights. I can't recall when Naruto got so talented, and can only imagine how far he still has to go. But, in my opinion, he is already a 9-year-old prodigy. He's blushing when I turn back to him, his hands trying awkwardly to hide his face. "I was trying to find a good angle and didn't notice the pot that Tanaka left this morning with soil for the garden." I can only imagine the fall. "Did you hurt yourself?" he shakes his head and looks aways from me, and suddenly I remember that Naruto had hidden his elbows from me when we had taken the blanket from the closet. I didn't think much of it then. "That's good then." He visibly relaxes, "Do you like it?" he looks back at the canvas I was only just observing. "I couldn't get the green right, I think I painted over it like 4 times," his lips purse and I can tell he's biting the inside of his cheek. "It's good." He blushes again and stands up swiftly. "It's almost bed-time, Itachi will get mad." He turns his face away and walks towards his easel sheepishly. "Next spring, I'll get it right." A perfectionist, so Uchiha-like. "So, wait for that one too, okay?"

"I would think that autumn deserves a piece too, as well as winter, and summer even."

"I expect to see every season on your wall then." Itachi smirks and Naruto turns a deeper shade of red. "As do I." I answer curtly. Blue eyes widen slightly and another dazzling smile is thrown my way. I notice the raw, clotted flesh that stands out against my blondie's tan skin as he reaches out to Itachi's outstretched hand, a habit that he hasn't outgrown yet, much like the frog plushie that still lays on the small, unused side of our shared bed. Tanaka steps out briefly with yet another pot, and I can tell by the tug of eyebrows that my brow is furrowed and my eyes are giving yet another deadly-Uchiha glare. "Get rid of all the pots tomorrow, I don't want to see anything obstructing Naruto's path, he's as blind as he is clumsy."

"I can't young master, Naruto wants as many pots as possible." Naruto, of course. Why do they give in to his every whim all the time? They'll spoil him. "And what exactly does he want the pots for?" There's a warm glint in those old eyes that make my anger waver. It seems that everytime I see him, Tanaka gains another wrinkle, another grey hair, another year off his life, and my heart clenches reluctantly. I almost regret using such a harsh tone on him. "Naruto said that he wants to make a garden here, so that there can be fresh flowers by the portrait of the 'pretty lady' and the 'serious man' everyday." I don't remember the last time I put flowers on their altars. It's always something that I avoid doing. "Young master, are you alright?"

"It seems like it's about to rain." I wipe away the drop that rolls down my cheek as Tanaka looks up at the clear, starry night that Naruto and I were contemplating just minutes before and smiles softly. "I'll make sure all the windows are properly closed."

"Please do."