A Day in the Life
November 25th
I was bored this afternoon hanging around in the lobby after the boss kicked me out, stating that he wanted some "me" time (I don't know why. It's always "me" time in the world of Orochimaru). So I texted around and I ended up in Mos Burger having lunch with Naruto, Sakura, Kakashi and Kabuto, which felt rather nice because I have fond memories of the place - mostly involving us sitting there at a chipboard table at 1am after drinking ourselves silly at a bar and talking utter nonsense. When we were first starting out, with our feet resting but on the initial rung of the corporate ladder, Naruto, Sakura and I would always eat out at Mos Burger either a) because we were broke, flat-sharing and were thus on a ridiculously and perpetually tight budget, or b) because we were out of food and no one could be bothered going shopping, or c) because the thought of another round of insipid bacon sandwiches with hideous Mal-Mart Smart Price bread, bacon and red-coloured vinegar - sorry, I mean ketchup - made us want to weep.
Anyway, being there again after all those years felt like old times and I cheered up considerably. Kabuto and Kakashi went to queue at the counter with intent to acquire food and the rest of us trudged upstairs to find a table. They came up fifteen minutes later with two trays crammed full of Mos Burger goodness. My mouth was watering - I cannot deny it. Between us, we demolished: eight portions of fries, three portions of onion rings, two lots of chicken nuggets, one green salad (Kabuto's - he's vegetarian, and I find this highly ironic considering he's always cutting things up in R&D), one spicy Mos cheeseburger (mine), two shrimp burgers (Naruto's), one Takumi burger (Kakashi's), one kinpira rice burger (Kabuto's veggie choice again), and one chilli dog (Sakura's). The place was absolutely packed and we could hardly hear one other over the noise of consumers happily chatting and chowing down. We had a fun time bitching about the various crying kids in our general vicinity and laughing at the morbidly obese man who tripped up the stairs, knocked over an old lady and fell face first into his chicken burger.
Now, while all this was happening, Sakura was contentedly munching away at her chilli dog. It seemed a pretty normal, non-descript hotdog of average tastiness - neither particularly foul, nor particularly fair. The plain exterior of the hotdog, however, belied the horrid, gristly bolus that lay within, waiting to strike the unsuspecting consumer.
When Kakashi was grossing us out with another one of his pigeon stories (he spends far too much time at the Public Park skiving off work with Jiraiya) involving a young pigeon joyfully pecking up a massive greener a tramp had hawked up, Sakura took a bite from her chilli dog. She chewed for a few moments and everything seemed normal. Soon, though, her face turned pale and she grabbed the sleeve of my shirt and wretched. At first everyone thought the little pigeon's gob gobbling antics had turned her stomach and Kakashi laughed and said, "Sakura, you're such a chick. I told that one to Tsunade yesterday and she thought it was hilarious." However, when she began to wave her hands madly about her head and choke, it dawned on us that all was not well.
In a flash, Naruto was on his feet and performing a manoeuvre approximating that devised by Dr Heimlich with considerable vigour, and everyone in the place had stopped to stare, open-mouthed, clearly waiting for something horrible to happen. I was reaching for my phone about to call for an ambulance and Kabuto was frantically trying to stop Naruto from breaking any of Sakura's ribs. Fortunately, no medical assistance was required, as a few further abdominal thrusts saw the offending obstruction violently expelled from Sakura's airway. I watched, transfixed, as a grey, gristly lump passed before my eyes at speed, avoiding my face, but hitting Kabuto on the cheek with a wet slap. The lump hit the floor and Kakashi leaned forward slightly in order to better observe it. His nose wrinkled with distaste, as did mine. Kabuto, however, was just standing there looking faintly stunned and a little green around the gills with his hand raised to touch the place where the lump had defiled him.
"Kabuto, are you okay?" I asked him warily.
His response? He only went and threw up all over the floor and all over the apple pie I was saving for dessert!
There was a rousing chorus of "Ewwwww" and diners leapt from their chairs to avoid the spray. Decidedly worse for wear, Kabuto raised a hand and said, "S-Sorry, everyone... Sorry! I do apologise."
As Naruto had his hands full taking care of a wheezing Sakura, Kakashi and I made to begin the dirty job of absorbing vomit with handfuls of tissue-thin napkins, but someone must have alerted the manager to the chaos, as she came sprinting up the stairs flanked by two underlings armed with mops and buckets. She must have heard about the choking incident, because she was extraordinarily courteous and contrite in the carefully-crafted concern she showed for Sakura and Kabuto in order to prevent them from suing. The result of this was that in exchange for our silence, we were each offered an employee's fifty percent discount card and free apple pies.
It is official. We can be bought.
I feel so cheap...
But the apple pie was delicious.
LATER:
I had a chat with Kabuto later when we went down to the hotel restaurant for dinner. Apparently he really hates gristle, and the reason he became a vegetarian in the first place was because he had a traumatising experience when he was a kid with - guess what? - a nasty, gristly hotdog. His foster-father had bought him one from a stand and he said he bit into it and this weird, grey juice came spurting out, revealing tubes and bits of bone and skin. Needless to say, he was promptly sick all over his dad's new beige chinos and he was dragged home and sent to bed early as a result of his misdemeanours. He's never eaten meat since, he said, and he supposed that being hit on the face by Sakura's gristle missile brought it all back to him - with somewhat spectacular results.
I swear to you... with all these horror stories involving hotdogs doing the rounds - I'm never, ever going to eat one of those things again.
I won't be at all surprised if I have nightmares tonight about giant hotdogs splitting open and drowning me in their gristly innards...
November 26th
Theoretically, I suppose nothing much has happened today, as I can count everything that has happened on one hand. However, if the emotional significance of any given event is measured in units of fingers, then there are not enough pairs of hands in the world that can measure the amount of shit I've been through today.
So far, my day has consisted of:
1) a minor disagreement with the boss
2) the resolution of the aforementioned disagreement with the boss
3) receiving an e-mail from Itachi which made my stomach churn with anxiety
4) a major disagreement with the boss as a result of said e-mail, which has not yet been resolved because I am staying with Kabuto.
I should've known today would be the epitome of terrible because it really did start out on the wrong foot. No. Make that the wrongest foot. The wrongest foot ever in the history of wrong feet.
The boss had planned to visit the Konoha War Museum with Jiraiya this morning, but they're still not speaking, so he hung around in the hotel room in a foul mood, bitching and moaning and slamming things down on tables, informing me (ad nauseum) about how stubborn/idiotic/insert any negative adjective you care to name Jiraiya was. I had intended to stay in, be sympathetic and make an attempt to cheer him up, but this plan was nipped in the bud when I accidentally ate one of his pieces of breakfast chewing gum and he went off on one. Now, he left the damn gum on the glass table out on the balcony for some reason, which led me to believe it was left over from yesterday. How the hell was I supposed to know that he suffers from a terrifying, obsessive-compulsive mania with regards to having exactly three pieces of chewing gum in the morning?
He threw one of his strops and stomped back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I retreated into the lounge where I threw myself onto a sofa and screamed into a cushion. After half an hour or so, I decided that we'd both had enough cool-down time and I approached the bedroom door and knocked on it tentatively.
"Hello?" I began softly. "It's me. Can I come in?"
No answer. I sighed and opened the door a crack. Peeking round the frame, I was greeted with a sorry sight to behold. The boss had drawn the curtains and the whole room had descended into darkness, except for the light of a lone tea-light candle flickering mournfully on the bedside cabinet. The boss was lying in bed, hiding under the duvet and curled up in the foetal position. I could see strands of his hair sticking out the air hole he'd left for himself.
"I'm sorry for eating your chewing gum," I said, as nicely as possible so as not to set him off.
"Sasuke-kun," he said, his petulant tone muffled by the duvet, "I cannot speak to you right now. Please go away."
Any pretence of sympathy I had hitherto possessed vanished in an instant.
"You know what?" I snapped, my hands on my hips. "You're such a fucking drama queen, honestly! It was just a bit of chewing gum! Would it make you feel any better if I got you three new bits?"
The boss made a muffled, non-committal noise from the depths of the duvet which I took to mean "yes". This resulted in a quick trip to the little hotel shop which sells various, sundry staples like inflatable neck-pillows, mains adapters, hideous Hawaiian souvenir shirts and snacks. I purchased two packs of Wrigley's Doublemint gum (one for the boss and one for myself to prevent further mishap) and took the elevator back to the room. Once inside, I raided the kitchen cupboards for a plate. I arranged the three pieces of chewing gum upon said plate in the manner to which the boss is accustomed and I breezed into the bedroom and set it down on the bedside cabinet without a word.
About two hours later, while I was sitting out on the balcony reading a book with a plate of cherries, the boss appeared. He was wearing his black silk robe and his hair was in tangles. His eye make-up was a little on the smeared side too. He didn't say a word to me (because I sincerely believe the boss would rather be tied up and beaten bloody with bamboo sticks before apologising to anyone) but he ran his fingers through my hair and kissed the top of my head on the way to his comfy chair. Before long, all was forgiven, and the shougi board was brought out.
A surprisingly competitive, four hour game followed. The boss won, but only just, and he definitely panicked a bit when, at one point, I had his king in check. I think he was quite impressed by my talent for shougi and I lapped up the compliments, conveniently neglecting to tell him about my forays into the game with Shikamaru in my Academy days. Let me tell you, when Shikamaru is your opponent, you learn to play well - fast. At the time, he held the titles of regional, national and international junior champion, so it really was no surprise that he flattened me in every game. I learned a lot, though, and I spent many an idle weekend afternoon absorbing Shikamaru's freakishly in-depth knowledge on defensive formations, attack strategies and which pieces it was useful to promote and which to leave alone. Thus, I put up a hell of a fight against the boss.
After the game, we decided to get ready to go out for something to eat - just the two of us. I went for a shower, and when I emerged, freshly washed and smelling of the white musk shower gel I'd used, I decided to check my e-mails.
This was a mistake.
I had the following e-mail from Itachi:
----
From: "Uchiha Itachi"
Subject: none
Dear Sasuke,
I am fine, thank you for asking. (My dear brother's cutting sarcasm, I'm afraid. I have not contacted him since everything kicked off at my court case. I know. I am a bad person.) We managed to avoid a clash with law enforcement and passed over the border into River Country without injury or incident. My colleagues wish to thank you for the use of your vehicle, without which we could not have hoped to avoid pursuit. Mercifully, Kisame's vehicle has also survived, although it is sorely in need of new brake pads and re-treading.
I will not lecture you here on your poor choice of partners, Sasuke. You know my feelings on the matter and those have not changed. I would like to ask you, however, what you wish to do about Christmas this year.
Since you kindly took the trouble to attend at the small Akatsuki gathering last year, I feel it only fitting that I should make the effort to come visit you. If this is the case, Kisame may very well join us. If not, he will return home to Mizugakure to visit Zabuza, Haku and other friends and family.
I would appreciate it if you let me know sooner rather than later so I can book flights and such.
Itachi.
P.S. Your car will be waiting for you when you arrive in Otogakure. I know you are still in Konoha, because I have tried to call repeatedly and have been met each time with an answer-phone message. Yes, I will permit you to keep the car, despite the fact that you blatantly and knowingly lied to me regarding the nature of your relationship with Orochimaru.
----
The last line he forgot to add should have read: "And may it be a reminder of your guilt."
Now, I must confess that I did not factor as to where the boss would fit into all this. In my mind, I suppose I had already assumed that, since we'd only been seeing one another for a few months, we weren't quite ready to spend Christmas together. Needless to say, the boss felt differently, and this served to cause a considerable amount of friction at dinner that night.
Picture the scene: the boss and I sat either side of a table upon which the most beautiful pieces of gastronomic art were displayed in even more beautiful wares. Dressed in our finest, we chatted and got along famously in our own private room while listening to the music provided by several geisha. I have never eaten anywhere quite so civilised before, and I don't mind admitting that I was terrified that I'd do something wrong. My strategy? Watching the boss and copying what he did. By the time the saké made an appearance, though, I started to care a little less.
It was the perfect picture of a civilised, intelligent, graceful and traditional dining experience, and I enjoyed every minute of it... until I had to spoil it all by mentioning in passing about the e-mail I had received from Itachi and my Christmas dilemma.
The boss's chopsticks halted halfway to his mouth and he observed me carefully.
"Are you going to stay with Itachi?" he asked slowly.
Now, maybe it was the alcohol flowing through my veins and clouding my normally acute empathetic senses, but I could identify no warning signals whatsoever at that point. Hence the series of fatal errors I made...
"I'm not sure what I'm going to do this year," I replied brightly, sipping at my cup of saké. "I don't fancy trekking out to River Country again, though. I could never sleep properly at night for fear that Kakuzu would break in and do something terrible to me in the name of comedy."
"So you will be staying in Otogakure?" the boss said, still observing me over his chopsticks.
"I think so," I answered. "So it might end up being Itachi, Kisame and myself. Might be quite nice just to have a quiet, three-person affair, don't you think?"
The boss smiled wryly and set down his chopsticks. He said nothing, and in my slightly inebriated state, I chattered away to fill the silence.
"What are your plans for Christmas this year, then?" I asked cheerfully, taking a mouthful of rice.
The boss smiled in a funny way and looked at me intently. "Oh, I was rather hoping to spend it with you, Sasuke-kun," he said in a manner that was far too casual, now that I look back on it.
Bewildered at this unexpected turn of events, my brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "You what?" I said.
A fine display of eloquence. I think not...
"You seem shocked," the boss said quietly. "I take it to mean that the thought of spending Christmas with me has not even crossed your mind."
It was only then that I began to perceive the danger signs. The boss was smiling at me in an ominous way. I stuttered and backtracked and tried to get out of it. It was no use. The alcohol rendered me utterly transparent and the boss saw right through me.
"N-No, not at all!" I said, panicking slightly. "I'd love to spend Christmas with you. Really," I added, meaning it. "It's just that Itachi—"
"What about Itachi?" the boss interrupted, his voice possessing an edge to it it had not hitherto possessed.
I paused for thought, and as I fidgeted, the bowl of shredded daikon suddenly became very interesting indeed. How could I get across the fact that Itachi simply would not want him there? I could imagine it: the traditionally cheerful Christmas morning when one is supposed to be at peace with the world descending into a bitchfest or a brawl. No. I couldn't let that happen. Things, I decided, had to be discussed right then and there.
"Well," I began, attempting to be as tactful as possible and failing miserably, "I rather assumed that since Itachi tried to do you a severe injury during my court case that you were aware of his feelings concerning us seeing one another."
"Your point?" the boss said waspishly, leaning back slightly and folding his arms.
"Well, you see..." I said, cringing slightly because I knew that the boss wasn't going to take it at all well, "I think it might be a little awkward if... you... were... to... come..."
I trailed off pathetically under the weight of the boss's gaze. The geisha began to play a jaunty little number that clashed terribly with the gravity of the moment. The boss's mouth thinned and his jaw stiffened. I opened my mouth to apologise, but then, without looking at me, he smiled a nasty smile and picked up the bowl of soy sauce. Observing it momentarily in his well-manicured hands, he rose to his feet and launched it across the room. The bowl shattered and soy sauce went everywhere. The geisha immediately stopped playing and bowed their heads, pretending that they had not witnessed a thing.
I sat there with my eyes closed and my hands clasped in my lap. When I opened them, the boss was pacing back and forth across the floor like a trapped animal in a cage. At this point I was approaching terrified, but I knew the boss well enough to know what to do. I remained stoic and stared straight ahead at the ink landscape on the opposite wall, willing myself not to shout back.
"Itachi!" the boss spat. "Itachi, Itachi, Itachi! Even now, when everything is out in the open, you continue to permit him to run your life for you—!"
Needless to say, my plan to remain calm and not shout back did not work.
"What!?" I snapped, incredulous and indignant. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't know what delusion you are labouring under, but —"
"Don't you dare call me deluded, you silly, little boy!" the boss seethed, whipping round on his heel, the black folds of his kimono whirling about him like a thunderstorm. "You will listen to me, and you will listen to me now! Itachi is controlling you! He exerts a considerable amount of influence over you and he knows it! He is manipulating you and it seems he has done so ever since you were children. What surprises me most is that you continue to let him—!"
"What!?" I stuttered, becoming more and more angry and flustered as the boss went on. "Don't be so stupid! It's nothing to do with that! He's my brother, that's all!"
"Itachi runs your life," the boss hissed. "He dictates every path you take, from any relationships you may develop, to the job you have that keeps your clothes on your back! If what you desire conflicts at all with what he wants of you, you are put through torture until matters are resolved in the way which suits him. He is the centre of your world, Sasuke-kun, and you unwittingly dance around him, constantly trying to keep him happy..."
The boss... Well... I know now why he said what he said. The benefit of hindsight is both a blessing and a curse. I know he is very attached to me and that underneath the psychotic, borderline temper-tantrum he meant well, but at that point, I simply could not see past the fact that he had just delivered - to my face - perhaps the biggest insult I had ever received in my life.
I was trembling with rage. Two little spots of colour had bloomed on my cheeks. I couldn't speak, I was so angry. I couldn't do anything but sit and stare, my teeth grinding together so hard it felt like they would weld together. The boss was still ranting and raving - pacing back-and-forth, back-and-forth - the lone figure centring in my slowly reddening field of vision. My hand reached for the bottle of saké and, slowly, I rose to my feet and walked over to the boss. I stood in front of him and he shuddered to an abrupt halt, gazing down his nose at me. He opened his mouth as though he was about to snap at me when I removed the lid from the bottle and poured the entire contents over his kimono before tossing the bottle to the floor and walking out, as though I had not a care in the world, leaving him utterly stunned and dripping wet.
Once I was a respectable distance from the restaurant proper, away from the prying gazes of the other diners and the front of house staff, I broke into a run. I headed straight for the room, tearing into the bedroom and throwing my laptop and a few items of clothing into a bag. I sincerely did not want to be hanging around when the boss came to find me, so I went to the only person I knew would understand...
Kabuto is fixing me a glass of wine as I type this. I haven't had a snivel yet, but I'm sure I will before the night is over.
The boss hasn't tried to call me yet. That in itself is quite odd. Maybe this time I've crossed the line...
I find myself really hoping that I haven't.
Is that pathetic?
LATER:
At around one o'clock, Kabuto found a note shoved under the door addressed to me. It was from the boss. How he knows I am here, I do not know. I know Kabuto didn't tell him, because we've been sitting chatting on the sofa all night. The note read:
Sasuke-kun,
I will speak to you in the morning. This has to be sorted out as soon as possible, as I have no desire to let the matter linger.
I will make my thoughts plain: I wish to spend Christmas with you, and there will be no compromise on my part. Whether you wish to have me around is up to you.
I will meet you in the restaurant for breakfast tomorrow at 9:00am sharp. Do not make me come looking for you.
Oro.
x
It was quite possibly the strangest note I have received from the boss thus far, being a mixture of informal monickers and kisses on one hand and ominous ultimatums on the other. I didn't really know what to make of it. I folded it up and stuck it in the inside pocket of my robe. For some reason, I really didn't want Kabuto to see it. He still is the boss's most recent ex, after all. Thankfully, though, he had the good grace not to inquire, and fairly soon (perhaps inevitably, you might say) the chat turned to the single biggest thing we had in common.
Even though it was silly and possibly tactless of me to bring up the subject, Kabuto seemed at ease talking about his experiences with the boss, and he ended up telling me how they met in the first place. It was at the departmental reception after Kabuto's graduation ceremony at the University of Otogakure, and as he was top student in his year, one of his lecturers had invited him to meet an astute and successful businessman named Orochimaru. Orochimaru, his lecturer informed him, was recruiting and had been searching the past year for an outstanding young biochem graduate to fill a position in the R&D department. Kabuto agreed to the meeting (mainly because the prospect of a job was quite appealing, having spent the previous six years of his life as a penniless student) and at forty-six minutes past nine that night, Orochimaru swanned into his life.
His reaction upon seeing him for the first time was somewhat different to mine. To put it bluntly, it rather resembled a typical, blaring tabloid headline: "Phwoar!!" Instantly, he told me, he was infatuated. Completely and irrevocably.
Now although Kabuto, I have learned, is exclusively interested in men, he is definitely not the rainbows and hen-nights type. On the contrary. He loathes all of that stuff and, being a scientist, is typically reserved and cynical. Before the boss, he'd had a few relationships here and there (including a disastrous one with a flaky, first-year literature student), but nothing of consequence.
When he got talking to the boss, he said, he suddenly believed, "Oh dear god... this is the man of my dreams!" I nodded sympathetically with my glass of wine in hand as Kabuto went through all the things I myself appreciated in the boss. They ended up taking a walk outside, Kabuto said - shaking his head and smiling at the memory - and all the while the boss was being a witty, charming and intelligent conversationalist. Before long, Kabuto had drunkenly leaned forward and kissed him, and the next thing he knew, they were up in his dorm room, at it like rabbits.
I said somewhat scathingly that the processes involved from party to bed sounded suspiciously like what had happened to me. Kabuto laughed and said he wasn't surprised. Then he turned to me and said, "In all seriousness, Sasuke, I'm rather glad I'm out of it. Orochimaru can be..." and here he hesitated, unsure whether to be brutally honest or tactful in my presence.
I saved him the trouble.
"The words you are looking for are 'high' and 'maintenance'," I said wryly, taking a sip of my wine.
Kabuto laughed again. "Yes," he said, running a hand through his hair, "he is extraordinarily high-maintenance."
"And he's spoiled rotten," I added, while I was on a roll. "And a control-freak. And incredibly jealous. And given to random bouts of psychosis, to boot." I sighed.
"Why do I like him again?" I asked, laughing, though there was a touch of nervousness about it, as I knew there was some truth there.
Kabuto smiled and rose to his feet, giving the signal that he was about ready for bed. "Why, Sasuke?" he replied, cryptically. "I asked myself that many times, believe me. Well... more accurately, the question was 'Why do I still like him?'"
"There's a difference," I said, smiling slightly.
Kabuto nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, you are quite right. There is a difference, Sasuke, subtle as it is. I only pray you don't ever have to ask yourself that question."
With that, Kabuto stepped over my legs and made his way out of the sitting area, not before saying goodnight and wishing me luck for tomorrow.
One thing is for certain, though...
I will never, ever have to ask myself that question, because there is no chance whatsoever that it will come to that point.
I swear it. I will never be silly over anyone. Ever.
May this journal entry serve as a reminder. And this goes for Itachi, too.
Phew! Heavy stuff at the end there, I think. No more Mr Nice Uchiha...
Once again, guys, thanks for everything. Your reviews do make me smile, and it's nice to see all the familiar names popping up - as well as the new ones. :-)
Last round's smile-inducers include: Lisa (yay! A new reviewer! This makes me feel shiny and special. Oh yes... Glad you appreciated the Streetlight Manifesto reference. They really are an awesome band!), danni quinn (lol, I think Hidan would start going ape-shit. He's the sort of person who would lobby for the closure of such salubrious establishments - and if recourse to the law doesn't work, then old-fashioned arson would do the job!), Zinjah (perhaps, then, the fic reflects less society's views than my own personal views. I hate homophobia. Senseless rubbish, it is), Voltra the Lively (I'm glad you like Kiku. I just cannot bring myself to make one-sided characters. It's so hard, even when I consciously tell myself "Right, this one is going to be a parody. Keep them 2D". I love your screen name, by the way), fiore777 (Hello again, you epitome of fantasticness! Hmmm... about the age thing. You know what? I don't know! XD I suppose, in my head, they still look like the little fifteen year olds (or so) that they are, but at the same time, they're in their late teens or very early twenties. I have no clue. Just forget you ever spotted it. XD Oro's backside is beautiful, lol. The only reason for the running "fat arse" gag is because in the anime, particularly in one of the openings (can't remember which series, but it's the one where they pan across the sound nin) he looks like he's hiding some mighty ghetto booty back there), Riana1 (Hello again! I'm afraid that you'll have to consult with my financial adviser regarding the doctor's bills. I no longer do my own accounts (runs away, carrying a suitcase full of money). A giant rubber band ball sounds fun, though. What would I give to hijack it and roll it down a hill and watch the chaos unfold...), ThisEternalSnowThat'sFalling (Yay! Another Streetlight Manifesto fan. They are a cracking band, aren't they?), eerabbit (believe it or not, the Fun Fun Fun Clubber of the Month award was inspired by real life. I didn't do it - but someone I know did. Yes. Even the warm piss... What a minger!), missyserena214 (lol, yup. The whole fat arse thing is inspired by the anime. Sometimes, I have noticed that the artists take a few liberties as far as Oro's anatomy is concerned. XD), yakushi-sushi (Jesus Christ, a hellhound? Must submit... must submit... type faster. Faster, dammit! Yeah, lol, it's funny though. I remember someone else saying that they don't usually go for OroxSasu. I think it's the whole tone of the fic - and the setting. It's so blatantly a humour-fic and not "Naruto" that people don't seem to mind.), Raspedra Twilight (It's funny, but I used to know a few people like that - not to the extent of Kiku, but you probably know what I mean. People that surprise you with sudden bouts of insight. That sort of thing. And you're right. Jiraiya is such a pederast! XD), Simple-Minded Idiot (ahhh, thank you for the Tetris congratulations. I just sort of zoned in after level fourteen and the next thing I knew, two-hundred lines. Madness. Haven't done it again since. I love your reviews, though. Insightful, particularly your crack about Sasuke having a bit of a psychiatrist or pep-squad in him. XD Poor boy. He really does take on a lot. You might be glad to know that Itachi and Kisame will definitely be making an appearance for Christmas. I'm still deciding on who from Akatsuki will be going to the Otogakure office party), SlythCommand (Yay! You're still here:-) Yes, I'm still shocked at having let Kiku live. Though she would have found a way, anyway, even with my authorly authority as a factor. She's one of these people who just float through life, oblivious, and still manage to get their way. I like her for it, though. Very funny person), Niver (Yes! Tetris! Muah hah hah! Don't think I can equal it, though. Endless Tetris is intimidating and could potentially cut me off from the rest of society for ever. XD Glad you like Kiku. I think I like her too. She'll definitely be making further appearances. I have plans for her), and ArilianaFireQueen (Glad you could nip in and leave a review before going on the road. Where are you going? Ah well, wherever you are, I hope you have a nice trip! Don't be too hard on Oro. He's a delicate, little thing. XD).
Thanks again, guys. You rawk copious amounts of the stuff. :-)