A Day in the Life

by Ada Kensington

Uchiha Sasuke keeps a diary during his employment at Otogakure Enterprises. A great, big bucket of moreish crack.

42. Chapter 42

A Day in the Life

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AN: Feast your eyes on this lovely scene from chapter forty-one, illustrated and coloured by the very talented uberhaxxorofpwnage. It made me squee with abandon when she dropped me an email to ask for permission and I think you should all full view and comment on her DeviantArt account because it really is very, very good. Oro and Tsunade's expressions are just priceless! :)

http : / / uberhaxxorofpwnage . deviantart . com / art / A-Day-in-The-Life-132617853

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January 5th

At the moment, we are staying at the Sarutobis' beautiful home in the foothills of Hokage Mountain. This is because we both sensibly agreed that keeping a low profile during our counselling sessions would be the wisest course of action to take - hence our skipping the hotel this time round. The boss, however, is in a bad mood with me – a situation which, I admit, is mostly my fault (mostly, but not entirely, I must add, since he did not furnish me with enough background information to prevent me from blundering into a foot-meets-mouth situation.)

Despite the fact that the boss had caused them a great deal of worry less than a week prior, having run off to Konoha in pursuit of me without informing them, the Sarutobis were only too happy to have him stay. I suppose they thought it a golden opportunity to keep an eye their beloved adopted son. Surely, they must have thought, if his stay was voluntary and if I was with him then he wouldn't run off and do something characteristically moronic again?

At any rate, the plan was set in motion and the boss and I showed up just in time to avoid having to attend Asuma's annual New Year shebang and all the bitching that would have inevitably ensued. Mrs Sarutobi met us at the gates, and when she saw the boss, she came haring towards us. Despite her advancing years, she put on quite the turn of speed, and when she reached the boss she crushed him in a bruising hug with her strong, sinewy arms.

"Orochimaru, you idiot boy," she blustered, while at the same time beaming at him with watery eyes. "I swear one day your antics will be the death of us. Hiruzen was out of his mind with worry, and before you open your mouth to protest, I know you spoke to us over the phone but it really isn't the same as seeing for myself that you're well."

Then she turned and spotted me as I helped Zaku manhandle our luggage from the back of the Rolls because the Sarutobis refuse to employ any regular household staff. I must confess I was not prepared for her sudden display of enthusiasm.

"Sasuke!" she exclaimed, as she grabbed me by the head with both hands, dragged me towards her and planted a huge, sloppy kiss on my forehead. I say 'kiss'. It was more like she took a chunk out of my cheekbone with her chin and then grazed my tender skin with her old lady stubble.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you, dear," she enthused. "Oh, here, let me get that thing for you. No, I insist! You are my guest, and I won't have you lugging your own cases all around the house."

In my stunned and mildly bruised state, obviously, I handed the luggage over. Mrs Sarutobi can be quite bossy and demanding, you see (though in a jovial, good-natured sort of way) and the boss and I were shooed away to the pavilion where she had tea and snacks ready and waiting for us. I did feel a twinge of guilt when I watched her haul both the boss's cases and mine through the garden, through the house and into the bedroom for us, because, after all, she is in her seventies. When I saw her appear outside once again, sleeves rolled up, to collect my second case, I expressed my doubts to the boss and asked whether we really should go and lend a hand.

The boss was characteristically dismissive, and disguised his unconcern with a shameless recourse to etiquette.

"As good guests, we must respect the wishes of our host," he said, sipping his tea.

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes, however, which caused me to roll my eyes at him and tell him to quit with the excuses and get off his lazy arse and help his goddamned foster mother. Our exchange was thankfully cut short, though, when Mrs Sarutobi strode into the pavilion and sat down beside us, aglow with purpose and physical exertion.

"It's grand to get a bit of exercise now and again," she exclaimed, leaning over to grab a chocolate-filled taiyaki which she bit into with gusto. "I've been dying to get out walking with the group, you know, but this blasted weather has had us all cooped up indoors. Who'd have believed I'd resort to shifting luggage to get my fix, eh? But what on earth have you got in those cases, Orochimaru? I'd swear blind you'd packed someone else in there – and a fat bugger at that! They're ridiculously heavy! Budge up there, Sasuke, there's a good boy!"

Without missing a beat, Mrs Sarutobi then launched into a monologue on the virtues of exercise, during which I munched on delicious tayaki and zoned in and out.

For all her love of good health and physical activity, however, there was a disconcertingly large amount of food shoved in front of us. As soon as we polished off all the snacks (and we did polish off all the snacks) we were suddenly confronted with the prospect of dinner when Sarutobi himself arrived home from work about an hour later.

Welcomes were extended once again, and I had to fight to refrain from weeping when Mrs Sarutobi emerged from the kitchen with a huge pot of chanko nabe. I was already feeling uncomfortably full, but I heroically soldiered on and managed to chow down on not one – but two! – helpings of Mrs Sarutobi's monster stew, paying respectful compliments to the chef all the while. And it was good. I am not complaining about the quality of the cooking. The quantity was my sticking point. I mean really, I am certain she just crammed everything edible she could find at hand in the kitchen into that pot. In fact, she's so wholesome and outdoorsy, I would not be surprised if she had ventured into the misty hills in the early morn, wrestled a wild boar to the ground and skinned it with her teeth.

I swear I almost punched her when she came out with a tray of strawberry cakes, but the boss saved me by politely refusing, therefore it was safe for me to follow suit. Instead, alcohol was brought out. Quite a lot of it. Sarutobi has to leave for work at seven tomorrow morning. I don't know how he does it.

By the time the boss and I decided to call it a night, I was so full I felt if someone were to prod me at the wrong moment, I would explode in a riot of colour and gore and shower the whole of Konoha with the contents of my innards: the eruption of Mount Sasuke.

"Don't even touch me," I groaned, as the boss flopped down on the bed beside me. "I feel like I'm going to die."

"You really need to learn to say no to her, Sasuke-kun."

"But it's so hard! She's so damned bossy! Seriously, is she a closet feeder or something? Because, really, that would explain a lot..."

The boss burst out laughing.

"Hmmm..." he mused. "Perhaps she is. I sense evil, Sasuke-kun. The last time I stayed here for any length of time I put on a ridiculous amount of weight."

This, unsurprisingly, is where the conversation began to take a turn for the worst.

"Really?" I said, suddenly curious, though I couldn't show it because if I'd turned over I would've thrown up. "Go on, confess. How much?"

"About twenty pounds," he said grimly.

Even in my distended, vulnerable state, I couldn't let that one lie. (Why couldn't I have let it lie?)

"Twenty pounds? Don't you mean tons?" I sniggered.

The boss fixed me with a cold stare.

"No, I did not mean tons," he said waspishly.

"I bet it all went south," I went on, unable to stop myself laughing, though my stomach was killing me. It must have been the alcohol. "I bet it all went to your ass. It always goes to your ass."

The boss sat up in bed and stared at me, looking heartily offended. This, of course, made it impossible for me to stifle the fit of the giggles that had overtaken me.

"What do you mean, it always goes to my ass?" the boss snapped.

"It just does," I shrugged. "I don't even know how to explain it. Whenever you put on weight, it heads straight there like nothing can stop it. It's like salmon going home to spawn. I'm not saying the end result is like two continents colliding or anything, but I must say it's noticeable."

"And where does yours go then?" the boss said acidly. "Your head?"

In order to absorb and process the boss's stunningly childish insult, I paused for a moment. Then I said, slowly, "Oh my god. Did you just call me a fathead?"

"I did," the boss said, folding his arms – proud and unrepentant.

"What are you, four?"

"You called me fat!" the boss yelled, outraged.

"I didn't call you fat!" I answered, indignant. "I was just commenting on the fact that you seem to gain weight unevenly."

"I don't think you are in the position to be criticising, when you're lying there stretched out like a beached whale!" he bit back.

"It's not my fault! I was force-fed!"

"Then you will understand my predicament," the boss sniffed, his nose in the air.

"Yes, but to be honest, twenty pounds is a bit much," I went on, matter-of-factly. "I mean, I know you wear kimono all the time so you don't have waistband issues, but you'd notice something like that, surely? Were you stuffing your face with cheeseburgers, or something?"

I then went speeding down the road of no return by performing the universally acknowledged feeding frenzy gesture, complete with gratuitous 'Om nom nomming' with increased hilarity and giggling at his expense, until the boss decided to make me look like a complete and utter prick by slipping in an important bit of context he had hitherto neglected to mention.

He paused, looking down his nose at me with an unnecessary degree of hauteur, and said, "I lost rather a lot of weight while working for Akatsuki, Sasuke-kun. It is one of the unfortunate side-effects of cocaine abuse. During my stay at the clinic, I was forced to correct myself, and when I returned here and was confronted with a clean environment and proper meals, finding my appetite no longer artificially suppressed, I took advantage. Forgive me, Sasuke, if you find that in some way grotesque."

My jaw dropped. I spent a good few moments gaping openly at the boss, since all thought processes seemed to have jammed to a halt.

Eventually, I managed to get something out.

"Why didn't you say?" I said, outraged.

"I dislike discussing that period of my life," the boss said repressively, turning away and folding his arms.

"Yeah," I insisted, "but you just made me look like a massive tool there! You could've told me and I would've shut up. Hey, don't ignore me—!"

My lame excuses withered and died and were lost in the cloud of resentful silence that had come to rest around the boss's general person. I sighed and decided to try another tack.

"Look, I'm sorry," I conceded. "I shouldn't have said that."

This time, my words penetrated, and I was afforded a moody reply.

"Yes. You shouldn't have."

"To be honest, those extra pounds probably made you look a lot better. Asuma said you looked terrible at Sarutobi's seventieth—"

I was rather rudely cut off when the boss rolled over and snarled in my face.

"Shut up, Sasuke-kun!"

"What the hell?" I exclaimed, indignant. " I'm trying to be nice here! I want make it up to you!"

"Then stop talking," the boss hissed. "You are beginning to try my patience, and as you know only too well, my reserves of that particular virtue are not infinite."

"But—"

"Be quiet!" the boss seethed, getting in the last word before he turned over again and stubbornly rebuffed my subsequent attempts at making reparations.

He spent most of the night lying in bed with the lights out, sulking, and when I finally decided I was fed up absorbing his bad vibes and feeling queasy from overeating, I got out of bed and ended up spending most of my night being sociable with the Sarutobis. When I came back, he was still in a mood and I had to get undressed in the dark. I stubbed my toe on the four-hundred year old folding screen in the corner of the room, and when I yelled, the boss sat up just long enough to snap at me and tell me to shut up. With a throbbing, injured toe, I was feeling justifiably ill-disposed towards him at that point, and in a spirit of retribution, I vaulted onto the bed and began to jump up and down whilst shouting, "Oh so you want me to shut up, do you? You want me to shut up? Go on, then! Make me shut up!"

Now, I must stress that it really was rather dark in the room, since we were staying in the boss's old bedroom in the only part of the house that had solid, encircling, immovable walls. There are no windows, and light, such as there was, filtered through the heavily painted screen doors from electric lamps in the hallway. Therefore, as I hopped around in a spirit of retribution, I did not have much light to see by, and when I trod heavily on the boss's hair, it came as something of a surprise to me. It was, of course, an accident, but the boss did not see it that way. He screamed, quite loudly, informing me that I had 'ripped half the hair from his head' and then shoved me off the bed, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the floor. Once again, I tried to apologise, but he ignored me and stormed off in a huff, taking all the bedding with him.

We are due our first counselling appointment tomorrow at 4:30pm.

Please let me find the strength to emerge from this ordeal unscathed...

January 6th

Now, I have already made it clear that I harbour a strong, lasting affection for the man known as Orochimaru: my employer, my significant other, my companion in sickness and in health, in laughter and woe, through joy and sorrow, blah, blah, et cetera, and all that emotional rubbish. Together, in the name of our relationship, we have been through a lot of shit – and when I say a lot I mean a lot. The amount of shit I have personally been forced to endure could be equated with the entire mass of the observable universe. As the boss once informed me that there is quite a lot of unobserved universe, I feel justified in adding that onto the tally as well.

Needless to say, the boss has once again added to that monumental, celestial shitpile. He is an incorrigible ignoramus. A thoughtless fool. Mentally defective. A rampant tard. There aren't enough words in the thesaurus to express how much of a proper, dyed-in-the-wool moron he is. I know. I've checked.

At the moment, I am too angry to write a proper entry, as I am in real danger of picking up my laptop and hurling it across the room at him. He's sitting in the corner at a little desk brought through for him by Sarutobi, writing in his stupid diary. I want to rip out the pages and force them down his throat, one by one, so he can choke on them. And then get hideously fat, since he's so sensitive about his weight.

I'm sorry. I'm going to have to leave the room. I can't stand the sight of him at the moment.

LATER:

Mrs Sarutobi has called to tell us dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes, so I had better make this quick.

Reasons why I want to punch the boss in the mouth:

Number one: the boss came back to bed last night eventually, dragging alongside him the duvet, pillows and other essential sleeping accoutrements – though this was not before I had practically frozen to death because I could not track down any spare bedding. Of course, he refused to talk to me and was still in a mood, yet he snuggled up beside me. This behaviour mystified me and when he fell asleep, I pinched him hard in several places and hoped he would bruise.

Number two: at breakfast this morning, the boss flat out refused to eat anything, informing Mrs Sarutobi when she inquired as to why he had only taken a single cup of mint tea, that some people – you should have seen the look he gave me when he said this – had made disparaging remarks about his weight and that he had decided to take matters into his own hands by going on a diet. Sarutobi shook his head and turned back to his newspaper, while Mrs Sarutobi told the boss outright that he was being ridiculous and shoved a generous portion of tamagoyaki in front of him. He turned his nose up at it and then had the nerve to complain that the sound of me crunching my cereal was deeply irritating. Out of spite, I picked up my cereal, stormed over and sat down right next to him. I shovelled into my mouth the biggest spoonful of cereal I could manage and, dribbling milk down my chin, I leaned over and crunched right into his ear with a deliberate look of concentration.

He said, disdain dripping from every syllable, "Don't be disgusting."

I said, dribbling milk with every syllable, "Don't be an arsehole."

Then I opened my mouth wide and exposed the mushy, masticated bolus of cereal balancing on my tongue and said, "Ahhhhhhhh!"

Needless to say, my witty rebuttal caused the boss to huff, toss his hair and flounce out of the room in a melodramatic manner. I could hear him stomping all the way down the corridor and must confess to a small smirk when I heard the series of screen doors slamming closed behind him. Mrs Sarutobi shook her head ruefully, while Sarutobi just laughed.

Number three: half an hour until our counselling appointment and the boss decided to make himself scarce. Cue me charging around the house in search of him. I finally found him trudging round the garden at the far end of the lake with a sour look on his face. He was still wearing his pyjamas, though because we are in the middle of winter, he had my hoodie slung over them.

I was not pleased.

Therefore, I began to yell at him, asking him if he realised the time, what the hell he thought he was doing, and why he wasn't ready. The boss rolled his eyes and said he would quickly sling on one of his less elaborate kimono if it would shut me up. I said, "You'd be lucky!" and followed up by asking him who was going to come pick us up. When I was given a blank stare in response, I sort of lost it, and started shouting at him and flailing around and said that if he did not smarten up and arrange for transport right then and there, I would break up with him.

The boss called the hotel and a driver came round to pick us up. By the time the driver arrived in a nondescript black Rolls belonging to the hotel's own fleet, the boss was suitably clothed, though upon getting into the car, he shunned me in favour of the front passenger seat and left me to sit alone in the back. In my mind, I cursed his name and wished gout upon him. It's likely. He drinks enough red wine.

Number four: This is it. The biggie. The monster. The one that almost caused me to wrap my hands round the boss's neck and strangle him in public.

Throughout the short car journey to our destination, as I have already noted, I was in a foul humour. Therefore, it may come as no surprise that I did not pay much attention to my surroundings as they flashed past through the tinted windows of the Rolls.

Imagine my alarm, then, when the car rolled to a halt and the door opened to reveal the familiar immense glass façade of the Konoha headquarters of Konoha-Suna Corp. As ever, the place was packed; suited employees darting in and out of the revolving door and striding along Nihonbashi Road, drinking coffees and shouting at each other through their Bluetooth headsets. To my right, I heard the front passenger door open, and the boss emerged, his geta clacking upon the pavement in what I felt was a needlessly ostentatious manner. His shoes attracted attention, his deep blue kimono attracted attention, his ridiculously long hair attracted attention and his irritating face attracted attention – attention I did not want.

I purposefully kept from friends and relatives the fact the boss and I are attending counselling because – and this might seem strange – I am embarrassed. I am an Uchiha, you see. I do not do failure, and resorting to hiring a mediator to save our relationship, even though it was at my insistence, has a suspicious whiff of failure about it. I did not want anyone else to know, and when I saw heads turning to gawk openly at the boss, I almost freaked and jumped back in the car.

"What are we doing here?" I said through clenched teeth, as Chouji passed by and gave me a wave.

The boss looked at me as though I'd asked him in a foreign tongue.

"Why we are here for the counselling you insisted we have," he answered, with a note of exasperated sarcasm. "Whatever is wrong now?"

"I wanted to do this in private, you idiot!" I hissed. "Konoha-Suna? Now everyone and their grandmothers are going to know we're here and what we're doing!"

"No, Sasuke-kun," the boss insisted, an edge creeping into his tone. "I distinctly remember your primary objective was to hire the best counsellor money could buy. In fact, you insisted. Repeatedly. I made my enquiries and fulfilled my brief admirably, as the best may be found right here in Konoha."

"Who did you ask?"

"Sarutobi-sensei."

I stared at him stonily.

"Oh, that's just great. You ask your fucking foster father and he just happens to direct you to someone who works for him? And here I thought you were able think for yourself! Orochimaru, the Great Scientist: 'Oh hi, Sarutobi! Just a quick question, but can you recommend someone good enough to straighten me out because my significant other is about to commit murder. No? I'm just that mental? Well, do you know anyone in the therapy business who would be willing to at least put up with me? Fantastic. I'll tell Sasuke. He'll be so pleased.'"

"Be quiet, you irritating little shit!" the boss snarled. "Sarutobi-sensei hires only the best, as you well know. If you did not like my choice, then you should have damned well made it yourself."

"Oh take off your fucking hind-sight goggles and just get in," I snapped, pushing past him and striding towards the revolving door. "People are starting to stare."

We rode the elevator up to the tenth floor (the boss had a bit of paper with instructions written on it). Miraculously, only one person shared it with us and she alighted in Finance on the eighth floor – perhaps a wise decision, since the boss and I were radiating bad vibes from every pore. When we reached our destination, a tinny, pre-recorded female voice announced, "Tenth floor. Please mind your step."

The doors slid open, and like something out of a nightmare, Hyuuga Neji appeared: smartly dressed, smiling – and worst of all, ready to greet us.

"Welcome, Orochimaru-sama, Sasuke," he said in his low, sombre tone as he inclined his head politely. "Please, do come this way..."

It happened almost instantly; that all-too-familiar feeling that descends upon me without warning when I am about to lose it. My heartbeat upped the pace a few notches, and the temperature of the blood pounding through my veins rocketed as a consequence, making me feel like everything was hot and prickling. I was breathing hard and fast, and I began to clench my fists and grind my teeth. I must have looked as though I was about to destroy something.

Dark thoughts passed through my mind in that moment – all of them centred around the boss and what I would do to him if the opportunity to be alone in a secluded place with a selection of hardware tools presented itself.

He had booked Neji. Hyuuga bloody Neji. The guy I went to school with, university with, worked with, and formed a casual friendship with as a result of our eerily synchronised lives. I know Neji well enough that we can hang out alone together without risking any awkward silences, and we have enough in common to make said hanging out sessions enjoyable, even. However – and this is a big however – we have never been close. We both have our own sets of 'inner circle' friends: I have Naruto and Sakura, and Neji has Lee and Tenten, therefore we have never needed to progress beyond the point of good friends and into confidantes. All the big, messy, personal things that have happened over the course of my life, I have discussed with Naruto and Sakura (and occasionally Itachi.) Strangers are fine. They don't know me, I don't know them. But the thought of being forced to tell anyone else I know about my problems fills me with dread and fear – the fear of humiliation, the fear of being judged and found wanting, and of course the ever present fear of failure.

Hence my reaction.

"You idiot..." I seethed, turning to the boss. "You dip-shit, fucking IDIOT!"

Since the boss does not take criticism well, he opened his mouth to respond, but I was so incredibly furious with him, that for once I overrode him.

"THAT'S NEJI!" I shrieked, hurling a finger at my old work mate, who looked discomfited to be at the end of my pointy gesture of fury. "NEJI, ORCHIMARU-SAMA! I WENT TO SCHOOL WITH HIM! I AM NOT TELLING HIM MY PROBLEMS!"

"Sasuke," Neji ventured, quite bravely, "is there something wrong?"

Like a tormented, screaming demon languishing in a pit of hellfire, condemned forever to suffer the stupidity of others, I whirled around and set myself upon Neji. Grabbing him desperately by the lapels of his suit, I stared at him, wild-eyed, and whispered, "What do you know?"

Neji seemed genuinely unsettled, but replied with admirable composure.

"Of course I do not know the specifics, but I was under the impression you and Orochimaru-sama were experiencing relationship problems, and—"

Neji did not get to finish that sentence.

Actually, he might very well have done, except that I was not there to hear it. Having reached the end of my tether and snapped by that point, I pushed Neji away and ran down the corridor – a writhing ball of rage and stress – and did not stop when I reached the stairwell, thundering down all ten flights, until I hit the ground floor, where I emerged into the glittering, pristine foyer of the Konoha-Suna headquarters and let out a long, heartfelt scream of despair that seemed to come from the very core of my being. When I ran out of breath, I took time to inhale, screamed again, and when I was finished I punched a nearby potted plant. It toppled over and sent dirt spilling across the polished marble floor, which I kicked at viciously, making more mess.

When I calmed down to a mere fury, I noticed that people were staring at me. There were quite a lot of people in the foyer and I sensed fear in their eyes. I snarled at them, told them to call me a taxi, and stormed out. As I sat on the wall outside, grinding my teeth, an intern was sent out to ask me who the taxi was for and where I was going.

"The Sarutobi Estate," I snapped. "And who do you think it's for? Have you been hiding under a rock? It's for Uchiha. And I want it now!"

To give them their due, the taxi arrived pretty quickly, though I have the sneaking suspicion this was less from a desire to provide good service than to get me – the screaming, plant-punching madman – out of their workplace.

Within twenty minutes, I was at the Sarutobi estate. Tipping the driver handsomely (I was not exactly the most amiable passenger, having spent the journey scowling and muttering darkly to myself), I stomped all the way into the bedroom, threw myself onto the bed and screamed myself hoarse into a pillow. I think Mrs Sarutobi must have heard me, for she knocked quietly on the door and asked if I wanted a cup of tea. I said yes, and ten minutes later, I somehow ended up helping in the garden, picking pumpkins.

It's amazing what a bit of manual labour can do to heal the mind, let me tell you. Or if not heal, then it at least occupies the mind so you cannot dwell upon any problems greater than figuring out the most efficient way to pull weeds.

By the time the boss showed up an hour later, I was not in the least interested in arguing with him, because I was tired, filthy, wearing Sarutobi's old t-shirt, trousers and wellingtons, and having far too much fun prising uncooperative pumpkins from the cold ground. Strangely, he too did not seem to be interested in arguing, and he swept past Mrs Sarutobi and I and into the house without even the barest hint of a snide remark.

This, of course, was unusual.

"I think you should go talk to him, dear," Mrs Sarutobi suggested, as she dug her garden fork into the ground and gave the dirt a good turning over. "He's always worse when he's quiet. At least when he's making a fuss you know what it's about."

Sighing, I laid down my spade, and traipsed through the garden. Taking Sarutobi's boots off at the door, I went inside and wandered around until I passed a room I had not yet been in and heard water running. Pulling open the screen door, I found a beautiful, traditional bathroom. I was in the antechamber: a wet-room with an ancient-looking iron wash-basin that the boss had only recently used, as his clothes were strewn over the floor along with a few towels and a washcloth. I followed the trail of discarded clothing until I found the bathroom proper – and the boss.

He was lying soaking in an old-style ofuro bath – deep and oddly long for what it was, and made of some sort of dark wood, like oak or alder, and built into a raised platform made of the same. The space wasn't large, but that added to its charm. It made the room cosy, intimate. What really elevated the room from pretty to stunning, however, was that the entire end wall gave way to a window that looked out onto a little garden – a secret, walled off part of the courtyard that would no doubt blossom into a riot of colour in summer.

"Wow, this room is fantastic," I said, just as the boss turned round (I had not bothered to tiptoe, so he heard me as I was coming in.)

"It is," he agreed. "It is one of my favourite rooms in the house. Though," he added, looking me up and down, "I think you need to use it more than I. What are you wearing, Sasuke-kun?"

"Oh," I said, reddening. "Um... it's just one of Sarutobi's old sweaters. I was helping out in the garden. Why? What's it to you?"

"You smell of dirt and mothballs."

"They keep the spare gardening clothes in the shed," I said, a shade defensively, feeling my hackles raising again. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Brazen as always, with a sly smile, the boss replied, "Take them off."

"What, and jump into that bathtub so I can cover you in dirt and skin-flakes?"

The boss's lip curled at the (admittedly gross) image, and said, "As always, Sasuke, you have quite the way with words. Use the wash-basin. There are towels in the cupboard."

Then he took a deep breath and fully submerged, his dark hair floating on the surface of the water, looking uncannily like a tentacled sea creature. That was my cue to leave, and in the wet-room, I gladly stripped off my borrowed garments and scrubbed myself clean before returning to the bathroom, a towel wrapped round my waist. The boss was waiting for me, and stared at me as I removed my towel and carefully manoeuvred myself into the huge, wooden tub. He continued to stare even when I had made myself comfortable, which made me feel a little self-conscious and resentful, because the only reason I was there was to talk to him, as Mrs Sarutobi suggested.

Having grown tired of our staring match, I opened my mouth to initiate conversation. The boss, however, must have noticed the exasperated look in my eyes and jumped in first.

"What happened, Sasuke-kun?" he said severely, arms folded.

I was there to talk, so I was as well being honest as not.

"I am not telling him my problems," I said, bluntly. "I don't know what you were thinking scheduling our appointments with him. I've known that guy for years. He's my friend, and, to be honest, the thought of spilling my innermost to him makes me want to curl up and die of embarrassment."

At the other end of the bath, the boss regarded me for a moment with one of his strange, unreadable expressions, before he let slip a wry smile.

"Ah, how the tables have turned," he sighed, leaning back and dipping his hair into the steaming hot water. "Truly, the irony of our situation is most amusing. I feel I shall soon have to have Fe tattooed onto my forehead.

"What do you mean?"

"I did not wish to attend counselling for precisely the reason you stated," the boss said frankly. "And I told Neji-kun this when he asked why I seemed unwilling to participate – and also that I was reluctant to trust the future of my personal affairs to a third party—"

"Wait, wait, wait..." I interrupted, holding up a hand. "You told Neji this? You actually spoke to him?"

"Yes, Sasuke-kun," he replied, a shade testily. "If you would let me finish."

"Fine. Go on, then."

"As I was saying," he went on, eyeing me sternly, "I did speak to Neji-kun, and our conversation was actually rather illuminating. I very much enjoyed the opportunity to bitch about you in a constructive environment—"

"You bitched about me to Neji?"

"Don't look at me like that, Sasuke-kun. And stop interrupting me. You have absolutely no right to be angry. We had an appointment scheduled and you conveniently chose to make yourself scarce. As I had already made time for and paid for the appointment, I decided to take advantage—"

"I chose to make myself scarce?" I said indignantly. "I didn't choose anything! I freaked out because you're too selfish to think of me when arranging something as important as that."

"Sasuke-kun, the only reason I agreed to it in the first place was because I was thinking of you," the boss said, infuriatingly reasonable. "Either way, the irony is most amusing: you, who insisted upon the counselling in the first place, now want to back out, and I, who never wanted it, am already thinking ahead to the next appointment."

"You want to go back?" I said, my voice hollow with disbelief.

"Of course," the boss said serenely. "Neji-kun has provided me with a task – and you, if you wish to undertake it?"

"What is it?" I growled.

"I have to keep a diary for a week, providing my thoughts and feelings on my relationship with you," he said, with a sly smile. "It should be easy for you, since you're always typing away on that laptop of yours."

He paused thoughtfully for a long moment, then added, "If I am being entirely honest, I will attend next week's appointment with or without you, since I found it so pleasurably cathartic. So what is it to be, Sasuke-kun? Will you join me?"

For a moment, I sat there and scowled at the swirling surface of the water, watching the steam rise and making pretty patterns in the air, trying my hardest not to lose my temper, since that would have meant the boss had won. He was being so bloody reasonable, it was making me ill.

"Fine," I said, through gritted teeth. "I'll join you. I'm going to have to now anyway, aren't I? You've already told Neji personal things about me, so I'll have to tell my side of the story – and believe me, Orochimaru-sama, you're not going to look good in it."

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, the boss's reasonable facade slipped. His eyes narrowed, and I knew if I had stayed, discussion would have quickly degenerated into another shouting match. I got out of the bath, wrapped my towel around my waist and left for the bedroom without another word, the boss staring at me all the way out.

It is ridiculous. The boss and I are both late for dinner – Mrs Sarutobi having called us down an hour ago – because we are both writing in our diaries. I wonder if he has realised this is not a competition? Seriously, he is pissing me off to the point of no return, sitting at his stupid, little writing desk with his pen and paper, looking up and me and smirking every five minutes as if to say, "You want to know what I'm writing about, don't you?"

Well, I don't. I don't want to know at all. I don't give a shit what you write about in your painful, noobish excuse for a diary. I have three years worth of evidence on you, Orochimaru-sama, and I don't think your week-long testament will even be enough to wipe my arse with.

That's it. I'm hungry. I'm getting the hell out of here.

I'll write later.

January 7th

Alright, Neji. I'll play ball.

I may as well address this to you, since you will be reading it at a later date. While I'm here, I suppose I should also take the opportunity to apologise for frightening you the other day. You see, I was already a little wound up by the time we arrived, and when I saw you standing there... it tipped me over the edge. I was afraid of telling my problems to someone I knew, but don't worry. I've put that behind me. Now, I am more concerned with telling my side of the story, because I know Orochimaru-sama has already spoken to you about me and has no doubt fed you a pack of melodramatic lies, as is his wont.

So I have decided to go through with the counselling and will therefore diligently record my daily dose of trauma, courtesy of the boss. I shall stick to the format you provided, do my best to answer your daily question, and will have the entries typed up and ready for next week.

See you then.

Sasuke.

Neji-kun,

Pray forgive the untidiness of my handwriting. It is the curse of the perennially inspired scientist, for I have grown accustomed to waking and making notes in haste in the dark, and so my penmanship has suffered.

Pray forgive, too, that my entries are written long-hand. I find my thoughts flow more freely from the pen than when I am sat staring at a blank screen. If there are parts you cannot read, by all means ask that I type them up for you. I certainly have the time to do so, as Sasuke appears to be in a sulk, and has taken to glaring at me in sullen silence. I suppose it is an improvement upon the shouting.

Orochimaru.

DAY ONE:

Do you know what bugs me most about the boss? Well, when I say 'most', I don't really mean it, as there is a pretty long list of things that bug me about him, but this one is up there, it really is. You have to know about this, otherwise you will be hoodwinked by the boss's charm – and please do not think you are immune, for many stronger individuals have fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

I remember having a conversation with him, oh... it must have been a few years ago, about gods and mythology and what purpose they served in society. I cannot recall what conclusion we came to. In fact, there probably never was one, since the sort of conversation the boss relishes leans decidedly towards the abstract, in which the vague and lofty are favoured and concrete pronouncements of any sort deemed arrogant or presumptuous at best. At any rate, what I remember most was not the heart of the matter. Rather, a particular god stuck in my mind.

Janus, the god of gates and doors, beginnings and endings. He is the sun and the moon; the god of grey areas; of middle grounds; of new beginnings and enterprises and change. He is almost always represented with two faces, each looking in opposite directions. I remember sitting on the sofa in the TV room at the boss's house, listening to him wittering on about some militantly atheist viewpoint he held regarding the place of gods in one's life, and all the while I was thinking, 'Janus. He is exactly like you.'

There are two sides to Orochimaru-sama: the face he presents to the world at large, and the one he keeps to himself and only shows to those closest to him. The side of him you are most likely familiar with is the former: the eloquent, powerful, charismatic, maverick scientist who is, of course, allowed his eccentricities and the occasional diva strop because he is something of a genius. He possesses a truly magnetic personality. The man oozes charm, and people are for some inexplicable reason drawn to him. He lets them in, all smiles, and promises them the world on a platter – and when he's caught them and they think he's the best thing since sliced bread, when it's too late to back out, he shows them his other side.

The other side is not pretty. He is moody, mercurial, regularly throwing horrendous temper-tantrums that are almost psychotic in their ferocity. He is manipulative and also very aware of his power and intelligence and has absolutely no qualms about using them against you to crush you like a bug if he has decided you have wronged him – and unless you mean something to him, he will not feel even a flicker of emotion over it. He is possessive, authoritarian, spoiled, vindictive and vain. He is also solitary, nothing like the image of the elegant socialite most people erroneously assign to him. Very rarely will he ever venture outside the compound for a social occasion; if clients wish to see him, they come to us, not we to them. Truthfully, he doesn't actually go out much, preferring either to work late at the labs, or if he comes home, he likes to drink wine and talk to and/or fuck me (one does not exclude the other) until he falls asleep and wakes up for work the next morning.

To the world, he shows once face – to me, another. I don't mind it, for there are very nice aspects to his personal face, but I am concentrating on the negatives at the moment just so you get my point.

Do not fall for his charm. Otherwise, impartiality will be impossible. I know I'm preaching to the converted here, and that you are a Hyuuga and an excellent therapist, but please, just hear me out, because the boss is also excellent at charming and manipulating people and I don't want these sessions to go to waste because of it.

I'm going to go to bed now, and when I wake up, hopefully, it'll be a better day. And if he annoys me, or says something that makes me want to knock his teeth out, I'll just pinch him in random places while he's sleeping and relieve a bit of stress like I did last night.

Is it wrong for me to find it funny when I do this?

Day One.

You asked me in our meeting earlier today what aspects of my Sasuke-kun's behaviour I found frustrating, and I could not answer right away, not having given sufficient thought to the matter beyond the obvious such as the moody tantrums, the sulking, the insolence and the shocking levels of disrespect with which he treats me when he is wallowing in one of his aforementioned sulks. However, having since had time to mull it over, I do believe I have stumbled upon a cause more profound, as it reflects upon aspects of my personality as much as his.

The night I cheated on Sasuke-kun, I was angrier than I had ever been with him. By report of Uchiha Madara, I had learned that Sasuke had expressed an interest in working for the Akatsuki Group – something I had feared would arise, but had not until then given much thought, since I had come to believe Sasuke-kun was happy working for me, and, by extension, was happy being with me.

Madara's revelation came as a shock, and it affected me more than I had anticipated. It affected me deeply, in fact, and I must confess I lost control. I was furious with him, believing him at the time to be a mercenary, ungrateful, little cockroach, who would have taken all I had given him and scuttled away in the darkness to feed off of some other unsuspecting wretch.

That is what I thought at the time. But it was a convenient excuse I had fashioned for myself to mask what I truly felt. In all honesty, the thought of losing him was the genuine cause of my anxiety, and I hated and resented the fact that anyone could make me feel that way. It was then I realised he had real power over my thoughts and feelings. My fear and my anger were wound up in one another, and I took it out on Sasuke-kun because he was the cause of it all.

Later that night, something happened which, far from dispelling my fears, only served to consolidate them and my resentment for the hold Sasuke-kun had over me. Kimimaro – my former lover, and a sweet if misguided boy – trying to win back my affections informed me that Sasuke was very much aware of his power over me, and that he would use it without hesitation in order to manipulate me. My suspicions confirmed from the mouth of another, a crack appeared in my carefully ordered world, and I felt an overwhelming moment of distress, which I sought to repress or else it would have ruined me.

I slept with Kimimaro, took advantage of his love for me and took out my frustrations on him. All the while, I craved my Sasuke-kun and cursed his name for making me feel so miserable and conflicted.

He knows very well he can goad me, manipulate me, control me – this merely by batting his eyes at me, or initiating a well-timed kiss, or even making me laugh at the right moment. No one has ever been able to do this to me. I have never desired anyone so much I was willing to tolerate such disrespect. I hate it, yet cannot help being taken in by it. It is when I become aware of his behaviour that conflict arises, as I become angry with him and with myself, which in turn sets off Sasuke-kun because he feels himself unfairly vilified.

My... what a revelation.

January 8th

Day Two.

10.15am

I am aware you have not yet set us our question for today, Neji-kun, but I feel I must raise a point of issue here – or at least a potential issue that may jeopardise my ability to attend further counselling appointments.

Yesterday morning, I woke up covered in small, red bruises. This morning, yet more have formed. The bruises are subcutaneous and therefore not very painful, but they appeared to have bloomed spontaneously – without injury, fall or any other cause – and are located at random throughout my body. I am aware it is common as one gets older for the skin to be more fragile and therefore more liable to bruising, but this is too much. I am not that old.

I will speak to Tsunade about it and ask for her professional opinion. I hope it is not serious, as I do not relish another stretch in an infirmary for yet another life-threatening condition. I feel I have had more than my fair share of them lately.

DAY TWO:

8:42am

"Well I'm hating, all of this,
I'm hating, all of this,
All of this, all of this,
Now I know why, I hide my love from you somedays,
No I don't mind keeping this bottled inside me,
You came along, and tore this wall down around me,
Looks like you found me,
Now I know why,
I felt like shit when I woke up this morning."

Just kidding. I don't even like Nickelback. I don't even feel much like shit either, which is a welcome change from yesterday morning when the boss refused to eat anything because he thought I called him fat. (For the record, I did not call him fat. Absolutely did not.) I think maybe the night-time pinching helps. The gardening too, since I have offered to help out Mrs Sarutobi again. She has a huge heated greenhouse filled with plants, even in January, and today's main chore is seed-planting, though she mentioned she had a surplus of certain vegetables which she plans to get out of the ground and turn into a beautiful, hearty, winter soup before the snow arrives – which it will, and soon, if the forecasts are to be believed.

Is it wrong that I'm looking forward to pulling the rutabagas?

Day Two.

1.10pm

My Sasuke-kun has developed a taste for gardening. He is still in his twenties, and I find this strange. By all rights, he should be behaving according to stereotype: drinking and taking drugs in nightclubs. Perhaps it is true when he says in thoughtless anger that I have sucked all the life out of him. Then again, perhaps it is as I have always suspected: that my Sasuke-kun is unique and not at all like other young men of his age. If he were, I would not be in this position.

I am sitting out at the pavilion, watching him as he stoops among the furrows, gracelessly hauling at rutabagas with a look of single-minded concentration I for some reason find awfully amusing. He has fallen twice, and each time his face darkened in that impatient scowl so familiar to me, before he rose again to his feet, dusted himself off and carried on. It is cold outside, and I can see even from here that his hands are red and sore, but he does not seem to have noticed.

My Sasuke-kun is resilient and determined, it appears, and will not easily give way – not even to the elements and the outdoors. Perhaps we do possess certain similarities in character.

Biwako invited me to lend a hand and join her and Sasuke-kun, but I politely declined. Except in the labs, I am not at all inclined to get my hands dirty, and I much prefer observing Sasuke-kun work. He knows perfectly well I am watching him, as he turns round at intervals and gives me the finger when he thinks Biwako is not looking.

I care not. His antics amuse me.

DAY TWO:

3:42pm

Wow, what a morning.

It is safe to say that I am absolutely shattered. After my big breakfast this morning, I worked through lunch for six hours straight in the garden with Mrs Sarutobi (she told me to call her Biwako, but I cannot get used to it.) We pulled some rutabagas and leeks from the patch, and some lettuces and potatoes from the greenhouse. In the greenhouse we also sowed mizuna, pak-choi, cabbage and – my favourite – tomatoes. Mrs Sarutobi said once they fruit, she'll bring some over to Otogakure for me, and she marked off the section I had planted and wrote a little label which said: "Sasuke's tomatoes." I felt strangely pleased about this, and was happy and filled with a sense of achievement when I was released from my duties and sent to go wash up.

Remembering the bathroom from the day before, I decided to treat myself to a good scrub and then a long soak in the tub. The boss had been staring at me all morning while I worked, sitting on his arse, drinking tea and conspicuously not eating because he's still being an idiot about my calling him fat (which I did not do.) When I went inside, he followed me into the bathroom, closing the door behind him just as I was taking my shirt off.

Now, I am uncertain how much information you would care to know regarding intimate matters, but let me just say he had that familiar look on his face. A gleam in the eye and a slant of the mouth that translates to: Sex. Now. We've been together so long he doesn't even have to suggest it anymore, I just know when he's up for it (which is pretty often, if I'm being honest.)

Despite feeling tired and achy, I gave in to his advances – and in the end, I rather enjoyed myself. The water was warm and comforting, and the knots of tension that had formed from my day's work unwound, helped along by the boss, who seemed to be feeling oddly generous as he gave me a backrub. The boss found some orange oil in the cupboard too, and he tipped a generous quantity into the water, and I breathed in its sweet, citrus scent while engaging in a bit of nefarious behaviour – this to reward him for his good behaviour. The downside to this, however, is that we now both smell strongly of orange oil. The Sarutobis are so going to know what we've been up to. Old people know these things. They have been banging away all their lives and have in-built sex-guilt detectors that kick in when their own libidos cop-out, I swear it.

Another downside is that the boss seems to have noticed the bruises. I admit I did pinch him rather forcefully last night, and the result is a series of small, red contusions covering his body and disfiguring his uniformly pale skin. The fact that he mentioned them probably means he is worried about them, and I feel guilty because I nodded and said he should probably go to a doctor.

I was going to tell him, but if I had done, it would have ruined the moment. We were both feeling so relaxed and content in each other's company, and I haven't felt like that in ages...

I am fully aware I am not supposed to lie anymore, so I will tell him eventually.

Honest.

Day Two.

6.43pm

Today has turned out better than I expected. I have had wonderful sex with Sasuke-kun and plan to have more.

We have not long returned from our evening meal – another of Biwako's excellent examples of traditional home cooking – and my Sasuke-kun is feeling the effects of his long, hard day. He is slumped on my side of the bed, sleeping soundly and drooling upon my pillow. He has also managed to manoeuvre himself into a slightly awkward position, lying face down on the bed, though with his head turned slightly to the right so he does not suffocate. In consequence, his appearance has radically altered, his face squashed into a most comical expression. He looks like Quasimodo's better-looking younger brother.

Perhaps that is a little harsh. The resemblance lies only in the turned-up nose.

Even then, I would still turn him over and take great pleasure in fucking him senseless.

Do I hear a shocked intake of breath? As well I might. You are a Hyuuga, after all, and your family are not known for its members' lascivious natures. You may therefore find that sentiment crude, wanton – even animalistic in its instinctive, tugging-at-the-guts carnality. But I am old enough to know myself, to know that I possess these primal cravings, and that I will indulge them. Indeed, I very much enjoy indulging them and see no reason to hide this fact from those of my acquaintance. Thus my unfortunate reputation for hedonism.

Sasuke-kun, however, is a different matter.

To the world, he presents an image of a very suave, clever, accomplished and self-assured individual. He is all of those positives, and more. At heart, though, he is a very self-contained and reticent young man, who does not yet know himself as well as he thinks. He will go after and secure long-term, lucrative contracts with major players on the world's political stage without breaking a sweat; will throw himself up on stage in front of an audience of hundreds and perform in a confident, polished manner; will scream at me for hours on end until he's blue in the face and I have long lost my patience with him; but when it comes to satisfying his most basic human needs, he becomes uncharacteristically bashful.

I have it on reliable report from Uzumaki Naruto that Sasuke lost his virginity a little later than most (much like myself, if I am being honest.) This intrigued me, as Sasuke is a very good-looking young man and had (still has) women and men swarming around him. Naruto, however, explained that Sasuke maintained not to have much interest in sex even after he had lost his virginity, viewing it as a distraction, as something he neither needed nor wanted.

Having known him now for three years, I can confidently state that the above excuses Sasuke provided are a front which he uses to hide his true feelings on the matter: that he does not like the way sex stirs up in him and exposes all the base emotions and desires he has determinedly kept hidden away since adolescence.

I know he enjoys sex with me. He has never told me this, but I know it. Unlike Kabuto or Kimimaro (my other longer term partners), he has never once refused my advantage or lied about having a headache. Even when he is angry with me, or slightly under the weather, or homesick, he will still turn to me and look at me in that manner most inviting that lets me know exactly what he wants without having to ask, because he is too proud.

With other partners, I grew quickly bored, and had to resort to increasingly ridiculous methods of making the sex entertaining. They gave nothing of themselves and I gave nothing of myself. There was no connection. It was flash-in-the-pan fulfilment of wanton desire that held as much meaning as steamed rice and dumplings. They let me fuck them and that was all that mattered.

With Sasuke-kun, I have to do no such thing. The act itself is its own reward, and I never, ever get bored of him. For even though he may maintain to disdain sex, even though he is reticent and proud and fears showing any sort of baser instinct – deep down he craves it, relishes it just as I do. When I climb on top of him in bed, making my intentions most explicit, his lofty ideals clash with his instincts and I see them warring within him, fighting for dominance. It makes my heart sing, and I love nothing more than teasing him, touching him, caressing him, fucking him, until he can take it no more and all his Uchihan pride vanishes like so much dust – and for a fleeting, beautiful moment he lies before me, bare and exposed, and I see him for everything that he is, with a glittering lust in his eyes that never fails to take my breath.

My Sasuke-kun is beautiful. My Sasuke-kun is perfect. My desire for him is both sensuous and sensual. My desire for him is one born of ideals and instincts.

At night, I break him just a little, and my proud, innocent Sasuke-kun mends himself and lets me do it all over again the next day.

My desire for him is absolute, and I will never let him go. I enjoy him far too much.

DAY TWO:

10:45pm

After another round of sexual acrobatics, I am tired, sore, yet oddly happy. I'm sitting out in the pavilion with the Sarutobis, typing this entry up while they argue with each other over the crossword (twenty-one across, seven letters: uses all vowels in the English language. If you know the answer, please contact them, as they will not let me look it up on Google.) The fantastic thing about the pavilion is that you can sit outside in almost any weather. It's snowing at the moment, as the forecasts predicted; great, fat, generous flakes of the stuff flurrying with intent to land and damned well lie there until morning, melting upon contact with the chilly surfaces of the ponds and lakes but clinging to pretty much everything else. The garden looks beautiful.

The boss is in bed, stretched out and content, lying there like an indolent god, able to do nothing more than smile at me in a dozy sort of way (he gets like that after we've had sex – it's the best way to shut him up), so I left him there and went outside to be sociable.

While I was at the pavilion, I received a phone call from Naruto. I won't go into why this was in any way special, but, suffice to say, it was. I haven't spoken to him for awhile and hearing his obnoxiously cheerful voice again really did lift my mood, even though his opening comments were: "Dude, are you in Konoha? Chouji said he waved at you outside HQ and Aoba said he heard you screaming in the foyer. Is that true?"

We spoke for quite a long time and the end result was a meeting planned for Sunday afternoon at Ichiraku Ramen (could it have been anywhere else?) Naruto and Sakura have time off then, so they will both be in attendance. I must confess I am terribly excited about it, but also a little nervous, because I'm not sure what I'm going to do about the boss. He has something of a past with Naruto, you see, and I don't think either of them would be too happy to see one another just yet. I'll have to rack my brains and think of a way of dodging the boss for a couple of hours on Sunday.

Oh well. I have all day tomorrow to think about it. I suppose I had best get on with answering your question, otherwise it'll be Sunday before you get any answer from me.

You asked whether there were any external influences that may in any way cause tension in our relationship. For me, there was one, but it as it is never going to be an issue again, I do not much want to talk about it. I know already that where the boss is concerned, public enemy number one is going to be my brother, and since he has no doubt prepared a venom-filled diatribe the likes of which you will have never before read, I shall not bore you by pre-treading what will become tediously familiar ground.

No doubt he will go over his many grievances in detail that would stun a retard, so I think I shall leave it to him and turn in for the night, as it bothers me tremendously when he bad-mouths Itachi. I would rather be unconscious when he's doing it, as I am liable to punch him if I catch a glimpse of his pen-and-paper bitching. I am oddly defensive when it comes to my brother.

Over to you, Orochimaru-sama. If you don't mention Itachi, you are a lying sack of shit.

Day Two.

10.50pm

Pray forgive the relatively late hour, Neji-kun. I would have gotten straight to the point and answered today's question much earlier had I not been otherwise engaged. My Sasuke-kun keeps me well entertained.

You asked whether there were any external influences that may in any way cause tension in our relationship. Without any hesitation, I can name two. The first will come as absolutely no surprise to Sasuke-kun, since the common origin of many of our more serious altercations is none other than Itachi, his mentally maladjusted brother. The second, however...

Well. We shall see.

I first met Uchiha Itachi during my seven-year stint at the Akatsuki Group. Though not at that time the majority shareholder, Uchiha Madara had a respectable degree of influence in the running of the company, and wished to recommend his nephew, Itachi, as well as another young man called Hoshigaki Kisame from Kirigakure who, he informed us, had shown promise. At the time, Itachi was still working for Konoha-Suna and was fresh out of university, but upon receiving his summons from Madara, he resigned his position in Konoha to take up the one offered him at Akatsuki and was paired with Kisame, the other newcomer.

Itachi therefore knew me during the period of my life in which riotous debauchery loomed large, and as Itachi is cold, stoic and proper – in all ways unlike me – I was never a popular figure in his estimation. Of course, I was aware of this, and took great delight in making him uncomfortable; my flings with Deidara were a particular bugbear, I believe, though I do not see how they were any worse than the reports I knew filtered down to him of my other exploits. I would wager some of them would even have made his toes curl, the strange, prudish creature that he is.

I knew, then, when I got together with Sasuke-kun that Itachi would automatically jump to the wrong conclusion regarding my intentions towards his brother. I also knew that he would go to tremendous lengths to keep little, innocent brother safe from me: the lascivious libertine twice his age and interested in only one thing. I was prepared for all this, and quite ready to give as good as I would get, for I truly did not give a shit about his opinion on the matter. As far as I was concerned, I would have Sasuke-kun, whether or not he approved of the match.

What I did not expect, however, was Sasuke-kun's bewildering and continual attachment to Itachi – and this is the aspect of the relationship that irritates me deeply.

You see, Sasuke-kun is only too aware of his brother's faults - knows that he is cold, ascetic, unresponsive, has all the emotion and passion of a plank of wood with a straight face drawn on, is manipulative, controlling, jealous and over-protective to the point where I am beginning to think he is mentally disturbed in some way. He is also keeping secrets from Sasuke, lying repeatedly to him about an unknown something which is clearly bothering him and is therefore probably serious. Sasuke-kun is aware of all this – yet is content to let it go as 'Itachi being Itachi', believes that his brother will come round and confess the truth when he is ready, and will give him innumerable second chances without Itachi ever having earned them. He is extended these infinite favours merely because he is his brother. I am afforded no such honour. I have to work to earn my Sasuke-kun's affections while Itachi is handed it on a plate, which he promptly tosses aside. He abuses his privilege. He abuses the unconditional love which his brother lavishes upon him, and it makes me sick. If I could experience that, I would not treat Sasuke so.

I could go on all night about the many ways Itachi has infuriated me in the past, but to save your sanity, Neji-kun, I shall refrain, and instead move on to my next point of issue.

Naruto-kun is rather more difficult to account for, though he is nonetheless a source of tension, at least from my point of view. Unlike Itachi, his intentions are not explicit, nor are they intentional, yet Naruto-kun holds an influence over my Sasuke in ways his brother could only dream of.

Friends since childhood, I believe, and it appears to have been very much a case of opposites attracting: Sasuke, the cool, moody, polished young man, taciturn and darkly handsome – and Naruto, the loud, blonde explosion of energy, armed with a relentless optimism (that if I were being unkind would call naïveté), unshakeable good faith, and an astonishing amount of charisma that draws even people like Sasuke-kun to him, who would not otherwise have the patience for his tomfoolery.

I knew from the beginning Itachi would be a stumbling block if I were to have my Sasuke-kun, and as I have said before, I was quite prepared to lock horns with him. I was not prepared for Naruto.

You may or may not believe this, but in the early stages of our relationship, I was actually jealous of Uzumaki Naruto – this due to my mistaken belief that there was something more than friendship between him and my Sasuke-kun. I calmed down, of course, when I realised their relationship was just that. Friendship, nothing more. Naruto's role, however, in blindly supporting a rebellion instigated by Sasuke-kun which resulted in a trip to Joyland Park (it was unplanned and it was rebellion, no matter how much Sasuke may protest to the contrary) made the old, dark feelings of jealousy and resentment stir again. I realised then that Naruto would do anything for Sasuke, and that their friendship – though only a friendship – was not just anything. An unshakeable bond I could perhaps comprehend, but I could never be a part of it, and so – to my shame – I attempted to break it. I paid dearly for my actions, and lost my Sasuke-kun.

This is the strength of their bond. It is stronger than me, than all the power and influence I wield, than everything I could throw at them in my spite to tear them apart.

Uzumaki Naruto made me feel powerless, and I hated him for it.

January 9th

DAY THREE:

2:45pm

You know how life is. One moment you're pulling rutabagas and covered in orange oil, and the next thing you know, your significant other is screaming in your face because he caught you pinching him and is accusing you in front of the 'in-laws' of deliberately trying to make him think he had leukaemia.

No?

Well this is what my life is like.

Now, before I go ahead and bemoan the downturn my love-life has suddenly taken, I should stress that I am fully aware of the role I played in the crisis and am perfectly willing to acknowledge that I am no saint. I did pinch the boss early this morning when I woke up, I have been pinching him for the past few nights, and yes, I did knowingly and willingly keep the fact that I was the phantom pincher from him – but I have perfectly logical explanations for my behaviour, which he – characteristically – is loath to listen to because he has gone off on one of his mad rages and is stomping around the garden in the snow and muttering to himself like a mad emperor, or a crazy old tramp that discharged himself from the psychiatric ward and happened to mug an emperor and steal his clothes on the way back to his damp, cardboard box.

At any rate, I cannot talk to him right now, so I would like to take the opportunity to set the record straight in a rational manner before he flips the psycho switch and turns on the caps lock in the entry he will no doubt compose for you.

As I said, I have perfectly logical explanations for the pinching – none of them whatsoever related to mental illness on my part. The pinching is a punishment; the reason for its execution simple. If the boss acts like a massive wanker and sustains said massive wanker status for a prolonged period of time (for example, overnight) and I have no way of taking out my frustrations on him, I will pinch him while he sleeps. This boasts two major advantages. The first is that because he is unaware of the pinching, I will not exacerbate the situation and elevate the boss's massive wanker status to full-blown. The second is that I get to punish him and feel a whole lot better after having done so. Really, in a way, I have been very considerate – and surely it is better than cheating?

This morning's pinching was a little different, however, as my desire to punish stemmed from another quarter. Yes, the boss's perennial, external source of trouble and strife: my brother.

Again, I do not feel I am at liberty to go into specifics, but suffice to say at Christmas this year, Itachi and the boss had a rather serious altercation, and my brother did not come out well from it. Over the last two weeks or so, I have been very worried about him. He has been ignoring my calls and emails and rebuffing any attempts at correspondence, which is unusual for Itachi, since he always wants to know what I'm up to, even when he's angry with me. But since they do not get on, I don't always feel I can talk to the boss about him. Especially not now, as I had to ask the boss a rather large favour as regards Itachi, and when he agreed, I feel he earned the right not to have to listen to me going on about him in his downtime.

At the same time, though... I cannot forget what he said to my brother and all the things he did that day that pushed Itachi twice over the line.

I woke up early this morning, and the first thought that popped into my head when I rolled over and looked at him was: "You have been slinging mud at my brother, who is very probably unwell and stressed out of his mind. To my soul, to the very core of my being, I resent this."

So I started pinching him.

I did not expect his hand to dart out and catch me mid-pinch, his fingers wrapping around my forearm, his grip ominously tight. Startling as it was, it made me jump, seeming uncannily like a motor reflex, as the grasp came first and the rest of the waking routine followed – you know, normal stuff like eyes opening and moving around, for instance. As soon as he grabbed me, my second thought of the day hurried into my mind and clamoured for my attention, informing me that it was highly likely I had been busted and would thus have to prepare myself for either an enormous amount of on-the-spot lying, or a horrendous fight.

Unfortunately, the look in the boss's eyes when he turned to me suggested he had already put two and two together and that he conclusion he came to wasn't something that pleased him.

"The bruises, Sasuke," he began, his voice still croaky with sleep but unmistakable dangerous, "did you put them there?"

"Um... no?" I offered after a brief moment's hesitation, a hopeless attempt to cling to the security of option one.

The boss's eyes narrowed and his grip tightened a shade.

"Try again, Sasuke," he said curtly.

"Um... maybe?" I replied, feigning uncertainty.

The boss regarded me with a haughty look of measured contempt before he began his cross-examination.

"Yesterday, in the bath, Sasuke-kun," he ventured, still not having let go of my arm. "I showed you my bruises, correct?"

"Yes."

"And did you not state, when I wondered how on earth I could have acquired them, that you thought it an utter mystery?"

"Yes."

"And then, when I mentioned in that case I should probably see a doctor because the bruises could have been an outer sign of a rather more serious internal affliction, did you not agree with me and say my plan was eminently sensible?"

"I did."

"And if I had sought medical advice upon these most mysterious bruises, what do you think the doctor would have told me?"

"That you were perfectly healthy?"

"And why would that be, Sasuke?"

"Because I've been pinching you at night," I admitted, screwing my eyes shut because I knew what was coming.

One-by-one, I tentatively opened them again when I felt the boss let go of my arm and shift position. I turned to him, and he had drawn his knees up and was resting his hands upon them, staring ahead at the wall, seeming lost in thought. It wasn't long, though, before he spoke again.

"Do you know what sorts of conditions may be diagnosed by extensive, unexplainable bruising, Sasuke?"

I said that I did not.

"Most are startlingly grave," he went on, thoughtfully. "Among them are cirrhosis of the liver, haemophilia, leukaemia and various sorts of aggressive cancers."

I said, in all honesty, that I was not aware that bruising was a symptom for those particular diseases.

This confession unwittingly caused the situation to nosedive into paranoia, psychosis, a great deal of shouting and, as a result, the dragging of the 'in-laws' into our personal problems.

"Really?" the boss said waspishly, turning to face me. "You had absolutely no idea?"

"No idea whatsoever."

"Yet you were content to carry on with your ridiculous, nocturnal pinching routine even after I had expressed my concerns to you?" he said, his eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me! You knew damned well what you were doing! I never thought you would go to such lengths to get out of a therapist's appointment, but obviously I was not aware of just how low you would be prepared to sink!"

For a moment, I stared at him, trying to figure out what in the hell he was getting at – and when it finally dawned, the extent of his paranoia made it clear to me that this time, instead of getting it bang on the money, he had put two and two together and saw two Technicolor swans swimming in a lake of custard.

"You think," I began levelly, "that I pinched you on purpose so you would think you had leukaemia?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," he said viciously, folding his arms in an aggressive manner.

Really, at that point, I was utterly dumbfounded and found it rather difficult to express just how ludicrous I found his accusations, so I resorted to spluttering incoherently.

"W-What? You think that—? You really think—? Oh my god. Oh my god, I cannot believe you. I just cannot believe you!"

"Playing the outrage card now that I've found you out, Sasuke-kun?" the boss said with a nasty smile.

"Oh my god, no!" I shouted, becoming more and more indignant by the second. "I'm outraged I have to put up with your paranoia! You're so far off the mark that the mark has given up waiting for you to find it and gone home! I was pinching you because you were pissing me off!"

"Why would you do that when you could merely scream your head off as you always do?" the boss shouted, raising his voice to match my volume.

"I was being considerate, you fucking moron!" I shrieked, with an agitated flail of my upper limbs.

I understood my motivations, even if the boss did not, which was unfortunate. The other unfortunate thing was, of course, that the boss had assigned to my actions other more sinister undertones and was determined to have them proven right. This resulted in a conflict that could not be immediately resolved and it therefore magically transformed into a lengthy shouting match, which eventually – to my embarrassment – woke the Sarutobis.

"Boys!" Mrs Sarutobi said, yawning and rubbing her eyes as she opened the screen door. "What is going on?" Sarutobi himself was at her elbow, and he seemed equally tired and bewildered.

As soon as we realised they were there, we must have thought exactly the same thing:

Witnesses!

The boss, having rolled out the spoiled, put-upon child act since he came to them at the age of eight, was quick off the draw and got in there first.

"Do you recall the unexplained series of small, red contusions that began to appear upon my body a few days ago?" he asked them, in an aggressive manner that betrayed the fact that he knew the answer and was damned well going to tell them and make a drama out of it while he was centre stage.

"Yes?" Sarutobi said, puzzled. "I do remember, Orochimaru. You were quite worried. Has something cropped up?"

"Oh yes, something has cropped up," the boss scoffed. "Something has, indeed, cropped up."

And then, with his infuriating penchant for melodrama, he struck a pose reminiscent to that of the evil monkey from Family Guy, brandished a pointed finger at me and howled, "SASUKE-KUN HAS BEEN BRUISING ME!"

As one, the Sarutobis turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. Suddenly feeling under an intense amount of scrutiny (they are the 'in-laws' after all, and, according to their own son, they always take the boss's side on everything) I did my best to explain myself, but the boss kept shouting me down. You know how it is. 'He who shouts loudest.' I am not proud to admit it, but I became a tad frustrated, not being able to get a word in edgeways, and I threw a mini tantrum and stormed out of the room.

Tired of not being listened to, sick fed-up of trying to talk to the hostile brick wall that was the boss, humiliated in front of the Sarutobis, I retreated to the one place in the estate that had become special to me. Ten minutes later, Sarutobi opened the door to the greenhouse, kicking snow off his shoes, and found me sitting on the floor, legs stretched out, next to the tomatoes, forlornly flicking bits of gravel across the path.

He sighed and crunched down the path, coming to rest next to me and sat down with a great deal of grunting and creaking of joints. There was a moment's pause, during which he took the opportunity to regard his wife's painstakingly cultivated blue orchids. By sitting there in a peaceful, non-threatening sort of silence, he created what I have come to know as a conversation vacuum, in which an individual – knowingly or unknowingly – manifests a silence so unbearably tangible that the other individual, or individuals, feel the need to resort to foolish babble in order to fill that silence. The boss is very, very good at this – and he obviously learned it from Sarutobi Hiruzen, the master.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, I blurted out, "I wasn't trying to make him think he was sick. Honest. I would not, would not do that. Ever. I didn't have a clue what random bruises meant! I'm not a doctor, am I?"

"There is the internet," Sarutobi mused.

My heart sank.

"Sarutobi, please believe me," I pleaded. "I would not do that to him."

"Wouldn't you?"

"No!" I insisted. "What would be the point? If he went to see a doctor tomorrow, he would have found out, and this whole mess would have happened, anyway. If I wanted to drive him mad, I'd just tell him I'm leaving him and going to stay in a Straight Edge Club commune with Itachi, Naruto, Lee and Gai."

"That is true..." Sarutobi said, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Thank god, I thought. At last someone with a little sense who was willing to listen to me, however petty and inane my true motives.

"Honestly, Sarutobi, and this is the truth," I said, willing him to believe me. "I know it might sound mad, or even just plain silly, but pinching him at night was the only way I felt I could get back at him for being a wanker without everything degenerating into an argument. That's all! Nothing else! And it was just a few pinches here and there – it wasn't like I was punching him in the head!"

"And how long has this been going on for?"

"Only a couple of days."

"Orochimaru says he has been feeling a little fatigued lately," Sarutobi said, still with a hint of scepticism in his tone.

"Yes, that's because the idiot hasn't been eating," I replied, testily. "It is nothing to do with illness – real or imagined."

"Hmmm..." Sarutobi mused, as he turned around the concept in his mind to see if it met his approval. I could see from the amused glint in his eye that the truth had finally penetrated, and I cannot tell you how relieved I was. Really, Sarutobi does scare me a little, I will not lie to you.

A few seconds later, he turned to me, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, and said, "Orochimaru has worked himself up into quite the state. Perhaps the counselling is affecting him more than he thinks?"

"It's making him paranoid!" I said. "He's analysing my every action to the point that he actually believes I'm trying to drive him mad! He's the one driving me mad!"

"I think it would be wise if you two weren't cooped up together quite so much," Sarutobi said, sensibly. "You do spend all of your time together, and that can't be healthy."

"Yeah," I said, thoughtfully. "I mean Biwako is always going on trips with her walking group, and you're pretty much always at work. You come home, spend your evenings together, and the only thing you argue about is the Konoha Times crossword."

"Only nowadays, Sasuke," Sarutobi reminded me, smiling and shaking his head at the memories. "Orochimaru used to be quite the little troublemaker and we fought like cat and dog over him when we were young – Asuma and Hitomi, too. We're too old now for all that rubbish. Leave the lovers' tiffs to the young ones, is what I say."

"Really, though, Sarutobi, I know that arguments are natural and inevitable and all that, but all the same, I would very much appreciate a little less of them in my life," I insisted. "That's why we're going to counselling."

Sarutobi sighed.

"Well, I suppose I could get Orochimaru out of the house for you for a few hours. Maybe tomorrow? I have a little problem in R&D that needs sorting – two new recruits and no one to train them up because Tsunade and Dan are away skiing and Shizune has caught the swine-flu, poor girl. I've been thinking about asking him but didn't want to impose."

Out of the blue, my victory senses began to tingle. Of all the lifelines I had ever been thrown, this was definitely one of the most welcome, for if Sarutobi's master plan came to fruition, I would be able to sneak away for a few hours and enjoy myself thoroughly with Naruto and Sakura at Ichiraku Ramen. Of course, though, I kept my emotions under wraps.

"Two new recruits?" I asked, innocently, while I felt like capering up and down the greenhouse and singing to the vegetables. "Anyone I know?"

"Interdepartmental promotion for Nara Shikamaru and another entirely new face – a young lady named Shiho, I believe."

"Shikamaru!" I exclaimed in amused outrage. "Really? I cannot believe he didn't tell me! Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time. I know he is the laziest bum sometimes, but he is very clever."

"Yes, we've noticed," Sarutobi said with a grin.

"Oh god," I said suddenly, as something hilarious occurred to me. "Just wait until he turns up tomorrow morning and finds the boss grinning at him in blood-spattered scrubs. High-octane nightmare fuel, or what? Oh my god, he's going to freak!"

I started chortling and Sarutobi gave me a knowing, wise old man look.

"Now, now, Sasuke-kun," he said. "Don't be unkind."

"No, no, this is hilarious," I said, already reaching for my phone and scrolling through names and numbers. "You really don't know how funny this is. I'm phoning him. Right now."

Full of sudden, unexpected, evil glee, I practically skipped out of the greenhouse, installed myself in Asuma's old bedroom, and spent the rest of the afternoon on the phone like a girl, informing various individuals of Shikamaru's impending misfortune – including the man himself.

Neji, I am telling you, you should have heard the note of barely suppressed panic in Shikamaru's voice when I told him that it was highly likely Orochimaru-sama would be lording it over him tomorrow morning. It was hilarious. I almost ruptured something internal trying not to laugh out loud when he admitted that he had once had a nightmare about the boss being his boss. It wasn't anything particularly traumatising: just the boss yelling at Shikamaru because he kept getting the same thing wrong, over and over again.

I have the funniest feeling that wasn't a dream, but a premonition. I offered this suggestion to Shikamaru, but he told me to piss off and hung up.

Is it uncharitable for me to feel ecstatically joyful that someone else will be on the receiving end of the boss's lunacy for a change? Is it?

Well, to be frank, I don't care. I only wish I could rig a camera to capture the mayhem.

I haven't called Naruto or Sakura yet. Perhaps I should, now that I know with certainty I can meet up with them and have some humorously awful news to share. In fact, while I'm on a roll with the whole 'calling everyone from Konoha in my goddamned address book' act, I might even try Itachi again. He won't answer, but I always feel better having at least tried.

LATER:

Itachi answered.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. I was so surprised when I heard him say, "Sasuke?" that I almost hit end call in panic because I did not know what to say. I pulled myself together long enough to squawk out, "Itachi! Um... how are you?" which was fortunate, as my brother seemed to want to talk to me. And we did talk, for a decent length of time by Itachi's standards. Not about anything momentous, but it was nice.

To cut a long story short, I am going to visit Itachi tomorrow afternoon. Naruto and Sakura are coming too. It'll be a long drive through the snow to Port Town, but Naruto generously offered to drive us there in his new car – which is so awesome, apparently, that it will 'make my face melt'. Interesting. I would much prefer it made the snow melt, but I suppose I cannot have everything.

Now, I know what you're thinking. I am keeping secrets from my significant other again. It may seem like that at the moment, but I plan to make a full disclosure by calling him on the day to let him know where I intend to go, with whom I am going, and when I plan to return. And if he does not like it, when I get back he will have the rest of forever to tell me exactly why.

Day Three.

11.20pm

Doubt thou the stars are fire,

Doubt that the sun doth move,

Doubt truth to be a liar,

But never doubt the facts.

That as the stars are fire,

The sun, a yellow dwarf,

And truth a moral construct,

Sasuke-kun may be depended upon to ruin my day – the vindictive, little troll that he is!

To my horror, I discovered this morning that Sasuke-kun has been the one causing the mysterious bruising I have been suffering from over the past few days. I caught him red-handed in the act – and when I questioned him, he continued to feign ignorance! Does he think I am a fool? That I am in the same vein as his gullible companion, Uzumaki Naruto (who would doubtless believe I am an interstellar chicken curry in disguise if Sasuke-kun insisted it were true)?

Well he made me feel like a fool – in front of Biwako and Sarutobi-sensei, no less!

Obviously, I was rather angry at him, and in the heat of the moment, I accused Sasuke-kun of bruising me with intent to make me believe I was ill. I am now in no way under the impression that this is true, as Sarutobi-sensei earlier reminded me that Sasuke truly would have been ignorant of the diseases and their symptoms. My Sasuke-kun may be clever, but we both know science is not his forte.

However, this does not excuse his behaviour. For although I do believe him, I am certainly not ready to make amends, because I resent the true reason for the pinching as much as the one I invented. He wants to punish me for my behaviour? As though I am an errant child he wishes to chide but fears an irrational explosion of temper? I call it presumptuous, deceitful, cowardly and disrespectful! I fear a pattern may be emerging, for I seem to believe punishment was a main motivating factor in his decision to be unfaithful with my CMO, and I have not a clue as to how I shall deal with it.

Sometimes, I curse the day he came to Otogakure.

I am so very, very attracted to him.

And now that I've thought about him, I inevitably want him.

I wish he would come to bed. Then at least I could take out my frustrations on him. Or in him, whichever fits.

Was that too much?

DAY THREE:

12:54pm

Changed venues, and I am now back in my assigned bedroom with the boss. This is because I became bored earlier while in Asuma's room and decided to root around for his old shamisen I knew was stored away in a cupboard somewhere. Needless to say, my search for the shamisen was cut short when I stumbled upon what I am inclined to believe was his teenage masturbation kit. That a certain item had been washed, pressed, folded and neatly placed in a cardboard box along with the other kit components leads me to believe that Biwako has a somewhat twisted sense of humour, and that if her son ever came across it, he would die of embarrassment.

At any rate, once I had found it, I could not stop thinking about it and grossing myself out, and was thus forced out of one bedroom and into another. Thankfully, the boss was already asleep and was muttering and twitching, as per, so I got undressed, turned out the lights and crept into bed. My head had barely touched the pillow when the boss let out a low, eerie moan and began to toss and turn. Exasperated, convinced that I was in for a sleepless night, I set about constructing my usual pillows-plus-duvet shock-absorbing barrier. However, as I was in the middle of this, the boss let out a blood-curdling shriek and startled me. His eyes snapped open and he stared straight at me, through me, his eyes wild and unseeing, and shouted, "Who's that? Who's that?"

When I had retrieved my madly thumping heart from my mouth and calmed it down to its proper, anatomical position, I gave him a nervous little pat on the arm and said, "It's me, you idiot. Sasuke. Go back to sleep."

He stared at me a few seconds longer, as though weighing up the truth of my statement, and then he smiled vaguely and said, "Mmmn... that's good. I thought... thought you were the octopus... hammering on the door... brushed my leg and... mrrr..."

"Do you want me to tell it to go away?" I asked, having fulfilled many such requests in the past.

The boss's head lolled in a floppy, unconscious sort of way which I took as a sign of agreement, and he rolled over and flung an arm round me and whispered, "It's a bailiff."

I had no idea what that meant, but I knew what I had to do. In a clear voice, I addressed the darkness and said, without a hint of insincerity, "Fuck off, octopus."

This seemed to placate the boss and ridded him of whatever phantoms were plaguing him, as my words elicited a brief throaty chuckle, during which he felt it appropriate to nuzzle me as thanks, and a minute later he had dropped off again.

Let me tell you that this is by no means an irregular occurrence. Incidents like this happen at least once a week, and my own sleep is almost always compromised. This is because I have either laughed myself sore at his nocturnal ramblings and am no longer sleepy, or he has spent the night twisting himself up in the duvet and yelling at random and I have not had the opportunity to sleep. Tonight's sleeplessness seems to be a combination of the former and excitement over the drive to Port Town tomorrow, but if you could convince him to take some medication to quell the more severe flailing, Neji, I would be forever grateful to you.

January 10th

DAY FOUR:

9:05am

As expected, the boss recalled nothing of his night-time antics. Of course, he remembered that he was still angry with me and woke up early with a sour look on his face as he dressed for his goodwill mission to Konoha-Suna. I know he's only doing it because he has been handed a golden opportunity to check out the competition, but let's pretend he's a good person just for a moment.

Moment's over.

To be honest, I'm glad to see the back of him right now, as Naruto and Sakura will be arriving at half ten. I know it seems early, but the snow is really coming down, and we'll need that extra half and hour if we want to make it to Itachi's for twelve.

I'm so excited, I cannot tell you. I feel like I should have felt at Christmas.

But wait, why am I sitting around typing? I'd better get ready.

Wish me luck!

LATER:

Courtesy of Biwako, we're having some coffee, since we have about twenty minutes before we need to leave. I don't have the time to go into any great depth, but really... I am so happy. Four months ago, I thought I would never hear from my friends again, and though there was a nanosecond of awkwardness when they stepped through the front door, it was almost as quickly forgotten as Sakura let out a little sob and flung her arms around my neck. Naruto soon followed with an enthusiastic yell, hollering "GROUP HUG!" at the top of his lungs and dived at us, almost sending the three of us toppling.

We didn't talk about what happened in October. We didn't even apologise to one another. We didn't have to. Bringing it up again would have opened old wounds, and we each knew our sorrows and regrets were genuine. So we lost ourselves for a moment in childish antics and laughter, revelling once again in each other's company.

When we were fed up with trying to pin each other to the ground in the snow, I instead turned my attentions to Naruto's new car. My face did not quite melt in close proximity, as had been the promised effect, but his car is truly eye-wateringly loud. The main colour of the body is an electric, cobalt blue upon which day-glo yellow racing stripes have been sprayed. It has a huge, high-rise spoiler and seventeen inch, ten-spoked gold alloy rims. It is Naruto's pride and joy: a race-ready Subaru Impreza WRX STI.

It is a rally car. The ones that mad men drive around dirt roads in forests at break-neck speed and smash into trees.

It was flashy, brash and entirely suited to Naruto, but all the same, the sight of it coupled with its astonishing specs made me all tingly and set off my man-senses. Halfway through a dude-chat about torque and break horse power and top speeds, Biwako interrupted us and warned us not to be stupid and to drive safely. Naruto swore he would be responsible, and, he reminded her, he had already made the drive up to the estate without any problems.

"And besides," he added with a huge grin, "It's an all-weather car, Biwako obaa-chan! It's got four-wheel drive and uber-grip tyres of awesome!"

I don't think she was convinced, but she insisted we come inside and have coffees before leaving.

God, I cannot wait to get into that car and see what it's got.

I am so ridiculously excited...

Day Four.

11.42am

For the first time in sixteen years, I find myself in the laboratories of the Research and Development department of Konoha-Suna Corp, my surroundings strange yet at once familiar. Obviously, the technology has changed beyond all recognition, though the wishy-washy ethos of bureaucracy that set aflame my impatience and boredom for the place is still very much present.

I am delighted to note, however, that my legend has not yet faded into obscurity, as I turned quite a few heads when I entered the building alongside Sarutobi-sensei this morning – and when I was presented to the Research and Development department I could see a few faces from the old guard that I recognised. They looked as though they were about to wet themselves, and the fervent muttering began in earnest, the newer recruits throwing darting glances at me – some worried, some curious – all wondering if I am truly as mad and black as I am painted.

They will soon find out. Konoha-Suna are trialling a new drug; fifty young male volunteers from the university – paid for their time, naturally – will make their appearance later on in the day. I plan to supervise the process personally, and will take great pleasure in watching their faces turn white when I step through the doors.

The two aides assigned to me have impressed me so far, fortunately for them. I was surprised to see young Shikamaru, as I was under the impression he worked in IT, but he informed me that his university degree was in biochemistry and that he was actually the top graduating student of his whole year (beating Sasuke-kun to the ultimate prize – he never told me that.) When I asked, young Shikamaru informed me that he has been languishing in the basement for years because, and I quote, he "just liked computers."

Astonishing. Simply astonishing.

Shiho, my other young charge, is quite evidently fresh from university, as she is still a little tentative and unsure of her ability and I have lost my patience with her a few times already this morning. On the upside, to compensate for her lack of intuition and experience, she is very bright and is quiet and obedient – traits I prize most highly in my lab assistants. I would hire them both, but I think between Kabuto and myself, they would be ruined by the end of their first month. Tsunade is a hard task-master, but she is nothing compared to me.

Oh...

One moment. I seem to have amassed seven missed calls: one from the Pincher in the Night, and... six from Itachi? How curious. Whatever could he want, I wonder?

January 10th

4:03pm

In hospital.

Car crash. Very snowy but not driving fast. Ayame clipped the back of the Subaru. Spun off the road and hit a tree. I was on the tree side.

Everything hurts. I have a needle sticking in my arm. Morphine, probably. I'm wearing a mystery gown and not sure how it got there. There is a cast on the bottom half of my right leg and right shoulder is in a sling. I have dressings in really weird places and I can see bruises. Big, scary bruises. Purple and red. Not like the boss's bruises. Is this Karma? Hope not because it hurts.

A machine next to me is beeping, so I must be on a monitor. Maybe I shouldn't be using my iphone? Don't even know why it's here. Someone must've been using it. Won't for much longer because it hurts to type. Keep having to close my eyes and take a break every sentence.

In a room on my own, but I asked and Naruto and Sakura are not badly hurt. Ayame is crying but I told Sakura's mum to tell her it's okay and that I'm not dead or anything. Sakura's mum is a nurse and she works here so she's allowed to be in with me. No one else is, but I know Jiraiya and Itachi are here. Heard their voices outside. I don't know where the boss is. I miss him. I want to see him. Thought I heard his voice earlier on. Really early on, when I was still in the car and hadn't passed out yet.

My leg was trapped and firemen were trying to cut me out. They were trying to talk to me too but I couldn't understand what they were saying. Then I heard someone shouting my name over and over and I knew it was the boss. He sounded upset. The firemen must have let him through because the next minute he was there. I had an oxygen mask on and it was all steamy, but I could sort of see him. It was nice him being there so I let him take my hand even though I probably squeezed it too hard because I was in a lot of pain. He tried to talk to me too, but couldn't really understand him either. Felt a bit woozy and I blacked out. Don't remember anything else till now.

Wish someone would turn the beepy machine off. It's driving me crazy.

Damn, my head hurts...

And... ohhh holy shit, I'm not moving again after this. Ow.

Where is he? Maybe I should tell Sakura's mum to tell him I'm not dead. And if she has time, she can tell Itachi too but he probably knows already.

I swear, if the boss thinks this is a scheme to get out of our appointment, I am going to smack him. Oh, wait... Jiraiya has peeked in the door. I'll ask him where the boss is.

LATER:

It is not January 10th. It is the 13th. I have been unconscious for three days and almost died of an epidural haematoma. A big, ugly strip has been shaved from my hair. At my request, the boss brought through a mirror and held it up for me. I cried. I look awful. He said I was being silly and it didn't matter one bit what I looked like. He was a bit snappy when he said it, but I don't think he meant it. He has been here for three days sleeping on a pull-out cot bed next to mine, so he's probably a bit tired. I suppose he's just glad I'm still here. I'm glad I'm still here. My hair will grow back.

Jiraiya said I flat-lined while they were operating on me and the boss freaked out and ran off. They managed to bring me round again and Itachi was sent to tell him. He found him outside in the snow, lying on a bench, staring into space. When Itachi told him I wasn't quite done yet, he ran back up to theatre and has been here ever since, apparently – except for when he is forced to take meals, which must have been when I woke up the first time.

He came up straight away when Jiraiya went downstairs to let him know I was awake. It was funny. As soon as he saw me with my eyes open his face twisted for a second and he came over and took my hand. I said I was sorry for not telling him where I was going but he waved it away and kissed the back of my hand and pressed it to his cheek. He stayed like that for ages and kept murmuring my name to himself until Sakura's mum came in and asked me how I was feeling and he retreated to his cot bed and sat and chewed his fingernails and stared at me. He is a bit better now and has been chatting away to me, though he keeps mentioning Ayame. I am not sure but I can sense that he has not been very nice to her. I know it was her fault we crashed, but I hope he's not made her feel too guilty. He already knows I don't want to press charges.

Oh...

Shit. Sakura's mum has busted me. She doesn't look very happy. I've to turn my phone off.

I'll write later. And I mean that this time.

I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.

Certainly not with my stitched and shaven head. Wouldn't be caught dead.

---

AN: Poor, injured, shaven Sasuke. He looks weird in my mind without his hair. [Edit: changed this in retrospect. He looks too weird without his hair. I cannot actually imagine it.] Manga Sasuke, in contrast, is very much in possession of a full head of dark, Uchihan locks, but seems to have lost his mind instead. He definitely no longer lacks hatred. Oh, and I totally love the Cloud ninjas - especially the one who's always apologising for the Raikage breaking doors. Darui? Lawl, Kishi, and your running door joke gag. It tickles me.

But you know what else tickles me? Reviews! :D

NayanRoo (I totally agree with you. The manga is becoming like a circus - and I actually kind of like it. The 'Gutsy Ninja Arc' really bored me, mainly because Pain never appealed to me as a villain, and the Madara-Danzou-Kabuto unholy trinity of bastards plus all the RAIKAGE SMASH antics are just fantastic. I also agree with you on Itachi's characterisation. While he is a good person at heart, he is most definitely willing to go to extremes for something he truly believes in. In a way, that's what has always made his manner seem unsettling to me: this impassive veneer masking this swirling maelstrom of emotions that drive him to commit truly horrific acts of twisted compassion. Damn, I love Itachi. And you're not to kill him off in Shadowplay. Or I'll pout. And btw, if you kill off Oro, I really will cry. Like a baby. Waaaaaah!)

SimplyDeep01 (Shit-stacks is my personal favourite phrase to describe portaloos. Learned it at a music festival from a random and it had me rolling. XD)

yumechan3 (Yes, the poor boy was rather out of it. He was under quite a lot of pressure that day. And I think you might be right about the style-morphing in the last chapter. You see, I have this annoying tendency to absorb other people's styles when I'm in the middle of reading a book. When I wrote forty-one, I was on Naomi Novik's Temeraire series, and that definitely inspired the sudden proliferation of colons and semi colons. XD)

Austeria (Now that I think about it, the Kimi 'exit stage left' imagery was quite sad, actually. See, even when I know I'm writing comedy - know I should be writing comedy - when I see an opportunity for angst, I just lunge at it, grab it and think: "I'm gonna fucking nail this bastard and make them weep hot, salty tears of agony." It's nice to know when I've done a good job. XD But in all seriousness, Kimi has been the most wonderful antagonist, so I think he deserved his beautiful sendoff. :) And yeah, your portrayal of Nagato's past was freakishly accurate. All you needed was a cute puppy called Tiny.)

Dooki (Yeah, a few people saw the gun thing coming. I hoped you would, since it really is the Chekov's Gun situation in all its glory: "If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." - Anton Chekov. Although in this case, it was Itachi's gun. And he had it pointed at Oro. And yes, I do have another Naruto writing project all lined up to go after this one finishes. I might start it before I finish this one, because if I'm left with nothing to do when I post the epilogue of this, then I think I might actually cry. XD But I can tell you that it's going to be called 'Gods.' And Oro and Sauce will be main characters.)

LadyRouge214 (Something is definitely going on with Itachi. A couple of things, actually. I leave you to speculate. :D)

hieilover135 (Hmmm... what is Madara doing to him? I couldn't possibly comment, though it really is affecting Itachi and has affected his life for a very long time. Not that that tells you much. And someone did draw something for me from the last chapter! :D That was uncannily prescient of you.)

pompomwoop (First off, I love that screen name. It makes me happy for some reason. And second, yeah, the drama does tend to centre around Orochimaru. XD I remember I had Sasuke say early on that trouble was attracted to him like tornadoes to trailer parks, but he forgets that his life was pretty quiet before he met Oro...)

miaceves (Oh I do so love that you've noticed that Oro really does care about Sasuke. Underneath all the mad strops, the paranoia, the spoiled brat behaviour and jealous rages, yes he does care about his Sauce. I think he knows that he does, but doesn't really know how to deal with it, and chalks it up to pure sexual attraction and Sasuke being manipulative. Hence all the recent conflict.)

Roxanne Morinaka (Itachi really is a poor baby at the moment. He is under quite a lot of stress. As to whether he will find resolution - I couldn't possibly comment. And I have never seen Vixen. Should I see it? I am wary of this...)

YoungSasuke (You know what? I was wrestling with myself whether to keep that boob crash scene in, but I thought, "Fuck it, man. I need one boob joke. Has to be done." But as for the serious stuff... yeah, last chapter was pretty monumental as regards Itachi. The Kimi storyline has come to a close, and now I am focussing my attentions on Sauce's poor, stressed brother, and as usual, your comments are startlingly perceptive. That they possess this double-edged bond and that they are the cornerstones in each other's lives is very true, and that if something were to occur that would break this bond and render cracks in those cornerstones, Sasuke would be truly devastated. Hmmm... interesting. XD)

Nozomi-sama (Oh the end of that last chapter with the forgot the cat line. Totally came out of the blue. Like, literally a few seconds before I posted it, and I thought, "GOLD! MUST PUT IN! ADSLKJALKDJ!" So it went in. And I laughed at it. XD As for Itachi... I'm glad you're wondering about him. The Kimi storyline has come to an end, and now I'm focusing all my attentions on Itachi. There are a few things going on with him at the moment, actually. I have foreshadowed one of the mysteries, but no one has got it yet. There was a clue in the last chapter, but it was almost a throwaway scenery description, so... lol. I think I've kept it well under-wraps.)

Iraoftheseven (Yay! A new reviewer! Thanks for taking the time to do the whole review thing. This fic is loooong now, so it really is much appreciated. :) And yes, Oro really was quite terrifying in that chapter. I think I may have went a little overboard there and let my other 'horror one-shot writer' side escape and run rampant. Oops. XD And you really hit the nail on the head with the 'you can only have me' comment. It was exactly one of those moments, which is probably what made it so scary.)

Bri (I have definitely been reading the manga! It's quite exciting right now, in a I-have-no-clue-what's-going-to-go-down-but-I-like-in sort of way. XD And the whole 'yeah, okay let's pick Danzou' scene made me lol. The Daimyo is a total idiot - just like some real world politicians. Whoa, Kishi's shounen is now political commentary? Since when? But as for the whole Itachi/Madara situation... yes. The poor boy has quite a lot going on at the moment and is stressed out of his mind but can't tell anyone. His evil relative is holding something over his head, you see, but I can't say anymore. Hope you liked this chapter! :))

X3Hayden (Ha! Your L comment made me lol! XD And it was quite appropriate too, since L obviously stands for lol. Thank you, though, and I'm glad you like it! :D)

Gerkyhen (This is your favourite fanfic on the whole site? I blush furiously. And thanks for sticking around for the long haul. Makes all the effort I put into this thing worth it, you know? :D)

AriesRaccoonRebi (Hey there! Nice to see you again. Glad to hear you had a good time in London, but I just have to say a bit WHOA that you saw Prince William. Ten feet from royalty? That's a record for me, lol, and I live in the UK!)

Insomniac Owl (Hey, no bother about the dedication. You can have another one when you graduate from Berkeley with flying colours. ;) As for the Itachi situation, do not worry about him having a mini-breakdown. It was most definitely there for a reason. A few reasons, actually. The poor boy was under quite a lot of pressure that day - from more than just Oro, but him getting back together with his little brother was the thing that pushed him over the edge. At any rate, now that Kimi's story is finished, I'm focusing all my attentions on Itachi. He is the last matter to be resolved. Damn, I wish I could tell people! XD)

Beqs (Ahhh, I see. It all makes sense now. I think a lot of people were thanking me for not ruining their relationship for ever. XD Hope you liked this chapter!)

serasera (I think I'm quite lucky here to have found such a nice new reader and reviewer. :) Your name has popped up on a couple of my one-shots too, and I'd just like to say thanks so much for leaving a few reviews here and there. It makes the effort I put into these things worth it, you know? See, I love it when I get random reviews for older chapters, because you guys bring up some lines that had me rolling when I was writing them. That 'Long Pube' scene? Seriously, I almost died writing that one. Sasuke is just the best little humour mill ever. He takes himself so seriously!)

Lavi Lane (Another new reader and reviewer? This is gooooood. Makes me squee! :D Thanks so much for taking the time, though. It really is much appreciated. :) And yes, the story has kind of changed its tone towards the end, lol. I guess the stakes between Oro and Sauce were raised, their relationship meant more to them, and the seriousness factor had to be upped.)

Chann (Y hay thar, Chann! :D Thanks for the uni work good luck message. I think I'll need it. I swear I'm spending too much time writing fanfic and I'm going to fail my PhD because of it (but it's more fun and I just cannot stop! D:) As for last chapter being a conclusion of sorts... yeah, it kind of was, at least for Kimimaro's story, as well as the major relationship camel humps Oro and Sauce have experienced. After this chapter, they're pretty solid, so the only thing left to focus now is on the Itachi-Madara situation. Oh, poor, poor Itachi...)

Cyaniona (Hey, don't apologise about the length! I absolutely loved reading through it all! :D Sorry to hear you were a bit stressed and muddled for the past few months, and I'm glad you're back and firing on all cylinders again. :) It was quite interesting to read your review, actually; most especially to see your reactions to each of the chapters, as you had the luxury of reading through quite a few in one sitting and could see events developing without the annoying month-long break in between, lol. I was pleased you caught on with Oro acting strange in chapter 37 - that chapter was one of those very-important-but-filler-in-disguise chapters. In fact, now that I think about it, I foreshadowed so much in that chapter, seriously. XD And you are right about Oro loving Sasuke. He does, very much, and I think he is beginning to be aware of it, but is not sure how to deal with it. The sooner he accepts it, the more mentally stable he will be. Thanks again for the reviews - and stay unstressed!)

Atsui-Danna (Lol, you have even convinced your friends to read it? That is quite amazing, actually! Obviously, as the author, I applaud your pushyness, and have hereby appointed you my official Marketing guru for ADitL, because you're obviously quite good at convincing people. Send my thanks to your friend Dei and everyone else you've made read this. :D)

For Whom (You imagined almost that exact scene in your head? That is quite freaky, lol. Either I did a good job characterising Itachi and foreshadowing his little mental breakdown, or you are psychic. I'll go with the latter. XD But you know, I would absolutely love, love, love to write a chapter in Itachi's pov like the one with Kimi, but his head will remain mysterious until the end of the fic, which isn't too long now, actually - a couple more chapters. I think I'll write a one-shot for him, probably set on that morning after Christmas, because that was quite the day for him.)

ShallowMind (Hey there! I got your friend request on LJ and I added you. Hope you don't find my entries too long and boring, lol. And I have a co-owner position open on the OroSasu FC? I had no idea! I'll get over there and post. I keep forgetting to check the FC section when I'm on NarutoForums, which is just stupid, since I check every week for spoilers and I'm always lurking in the Library. I really should add the OroSasu thread to my subscriptions, or something. And where is this AU OroSasu? It intrigues me! Link?)

chibibaka1 (No worries! It was a pleasure beta-reading your DBZ fic - some of that imagery was really quite beautiful. You're a good writer. :) As for Sasuke's modesty at being picked for the Forbes list, yeah, I think it is a character trait he does sort of possess. Remember early on in the manga he would get really surly when Sakura thanked him for saving her and he said, "It was Naruto?" Sasuke seems to get mad when someone heaps praise on him he feels he does not deserve, which is actually one of his more positive character traits, imo. In the Forbes case, I think it was a mix of that and genuine modest because even though he felt he didn't deserve it, he was secretly flattered.)

Chromde (Wow, you had another fifty or so chapters of fanfic to catch up on? You are a proper, hardcore fanfic reader and reviewer - and I salute you! :D Did you ever catch up, or are you still wading through the ocean of backlog, lol? But oh, I am so glad you liked the "Righteousness Radar" line. That one seriously had me rolling. XD And as you probably guessed, I was so looking forward to writing that Akatsuki Christmas. They're just such a bunch of mad bastards and it's great fun writing them. I'm glad you liked the Forbes thing, and your comment on it being a little window into the wider world really made me smile, because one of my favourite all-time fics on this site was one where the main character occasionally read the paper. This shed a little light on the activities of the Big Bad villian, who was not immediately present at the time, but it created this sense of omnipresence instead that really upped the impact when the Big Bad finally made his appearance. So yes, I like stuff like that too. XD)

Violet203 (Hello again! I know, I know, the chapter lengths are getting ridiculous. I don't know whether I should shorten them and update more regularly, or keep the word-count and longer update waits as they are. Quite a few people expected the gun when Itachi stormed off, and I was proud of those who saw the gun coming, because as I said to Dooki earlier, it was the Chekov's Gun situation, which dictates that if the author makes a point of showing somthing, that something must absolutely have a point, or there was no reason to show it in the first place. :D Glad you liked the chapter, though, and I hope you liked this one!)