The Uchiha Fraud
Chapter Seven

"Have you ever washed the dishes?" Sakura asked disbelievingly, dismissing the glare Sasuke was shooting at her.

She was beginning to truly respect the Uchiha Matriarch; being able to strike fear in both Sasuke and Naruto, to the point where the boys were standing over the sink—rubber gloves and all. Sakura knew that growing up in such a wealthy lifestyle had its benefits; being exempt from mediocre household chores was one of them, but it still baffled her that there were actually people who never dirtied their hands.

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"If there's one thing about Uchiha men that you need to understand," Mikoto started, closing the fridge, "It's the fact that they're so darn stubborn."

Sakura smiled amusingly, deciding not to comment that her mother-in-law was an Uchiha too—and just as stubborn.

"When Sasuke-kun was younger, I tried to teach him that learning how to cook and clean wasn't always a bad thing. But that old grump of a husband drilled it into his head that as long as maids and butlers existed, we won't have to soil our hands with peasant work."

Sakura's eyebrows shot up. "Peasant work?"

"Well, I might have been exaggerating," Mikoto said sheepishly, smiling. "So of course Sasuke-kun would listen to his father and not his poor old mother."

"Jeez teme, even as a brat you were breaking hearts," Naruto snickered, continuing to scrub the plate in his hands.

"Stop splashing the water on me, dobe."

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To say that the raven-haired male was irritated was an understatement.

Yes, he was—to some extent—grateful that his mother and Sakura had cooked his favorite meal, but having him wash the dishes in gratitude? It was hardly fair; especially since he had maids sitting around that were more than capable to do the job. That was what he paid them for, and it was a shame that his money had to go to waste—

"Gosh Sasuke-kun, lighten up," Sakura teased, stifling her laugh.

There was just something about him wearing yellow gloves and attempting to look dignified. And judging by the sour look on his face, she could easily guess where his thoughts were heading. If she hadn't witnessed it, it would've been hard to convince her that Uchiha Sasuke could be such a… baby, sometimes.

.

"Hey, where do I put thi—"

The sound of the plate shattering startled her.

"Damn it, Naruto, that was expensive."

"Sasuke-kun!" Mikoto scolded, grabbing a rag off the counter. "Language!"

"Don't worry, Mikoto-san! Teme's just being a little prick," Naruto replied, taking off his gloves and bending down towards the mess on the floor. "I'll clean it up!"

"Naruto!" Sakura warned, but it was already too late.

"Ouch."

Naruto winced, staring at the small shard that punctured his finger. Becoming uneasy at the sight of his own blood, he didn't notice when Sakura hopped off the chair and left the room in a rush.

"Idiot."

"I don't see YOU trying to help—"

Mikoto clucked her tongue, spreading the rag onto the floor to soak up the water. Perhaps it hadn't been such a wise idea to have Naruto wash the dishes after all… "Sasuke-kun," she called, getting her son's attention. "Call one of the maids to clean this mess, I'm going to bring Naruto to the living room."

"Hn," he replied, slipping the gloves off and tossing them on the counter.

.

And while he was at it, he might as well order them to finish cleaning the dishes.

"Don't move too much!" Sakura reprimanded, using the tweezers to gently pull out the shard.

After seeing the blood that was beginning to ooze from the cut in Naruto's finger, the medic in her had resurfaced and she immediately rushed for the first-aid kit. Sakura knew a lot of things about Naruto… his favorite food, color, hobbies, and his tendencies to knock down anything within a five-foot radius—accident or not. But the one thing she hadn't been expecting was his uneasiness at seeing blood… or more specifically, his blood.

"But Sakura-chan… the smell," Naruto whined, looking at the ceiling.

"There," Sakura said proudly, depositing the small glass on a napkin. She grabbed an antiseptic and cleaned the cut with a q-tip, then proceeded to put a band-aid on. "I still can't believe you're afraid of blood…"

"I'm not afraid of blood," he defended. "The color and the smell… it's just—ugh."

"Don't throw up on my sofa," Sasuke snapped, not wanting a repeat of last year's get together that Naruto threw at his house without his permission.

Other than a small "pft," the blonde remained silent.

"Sasuke-kun, I didn't know you had a first-aid kit," Mikoto said thoughtfully, deciding to speak up for the first time since they entered the living room.

"It's actually mine," Sakura answered, embarrassed.

"You have two?"

It was Sasuke who asked.

"Two?" she repeated, momentarily confused… then remembered that she packed one with her luggage—the other had been in her purse. But this was the first time that she had brought out the first-aid kid in front of him… unless—

"Yes, I have two," Sakura confirmed, gazing at Sasuke suspiciously though he pretended he didn't see her. "One for home and one for…"

"Not you, too!" Naruto groaned from beside her; less tense than he was before now that the bandage was secure on his finger.

"I've been wondering what it was that you two had in common," Mikoto chuckled quietly.

Unable to form an intelligent remark, Sakura settled with a "What?"

"You're just as much of a workaholic as he is!" the blonde exclaimed, jabbing his finger at Sasuke. Then began muttering about "psychos" and "soulmates."

"I am not a workaholic," the two replied in unison, then immediately shut up, realizing that they were proving Naruto's point.

"Told you," Naruto grumbled to Mikoto.

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.

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Sakura was not a workaholic!

"I don't see what's wrong with being prepared," she reasoned, "now that's different. And besides, I didn't see you complaining when I was fixing that cut on your finger."

"Yeah, yeah," Naruto waved, unconvinced. "It'd be a real tragedy one day when some kid gets a paper cut and doesn't have that first-aid kit there."

Sakura glared.

"Next time you manage to cut yourself up, I'll let you bleed to death," Sakura threatened.

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"Aw, Sakura-chan! I was just kidding!"

It didn't take a genius to notice that Sakura was waiting until they were alone to interrogate him; especially since he could practically feel her burn holes in the back of his head on the way to their bedroom. He managed to get his glasses onto the vanity before the door closed abruptly, and Sakura's sharp intake of breath filled the room.

"You looked through my things," she accused.

"It was necessary."

"Necessary?" Sakura spluttered, then her eyes hardened. "Those are my things! What if I had something personal that I didn't want you to see?"

"You shouldn't be keeping secrets," he pointed out, raising a brow.

"That's not the point," she retaliated, angry. "I've been on my best behavior since the moment I got here, played nice with everyone even if they aggravated me, went on a yacht—and I hate boats, mind you…then proceeded to throw up—"

"Because you stupidly refused the seasick pills."

"And then cooked, COOKED…"

"You volunteered."

"Even though the kitchen is like my own personal hell," Sakura finished, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "And all this time you were playing 'Uchiha Corporate Leader' and snooped through my things."

"I didn't snoop," Sasuke said eventually, grabbing a shirt to change into—causing Sakura to widen her eyes and look away, face flushing. "Mizuho did."

"Same thing," she mumbled, crossing her arms childishly. "And there's a perfectly good bathroom to change in."

After pulling the shirt over his head and discarding his previous one into the laundry basket, he briefly glanced over.

"You don't like being interrupted."

If there was one thing that Sasuke learned when dealing with Sakura, it was the fact that you only had two courses of action: you either pissed her off, or you didn't. So far he had managed to alternate between the two, but not enough to land in her good graces or have her completely hate his guts—not that it mattered, anyway.

It's just that things ran a lot smoother when the two parties have a mutual understanding. And there was also the whole "trust" thing; which was why he ordered Mizuho to look through her belongings, making sure that she was as harmless as Naruto claimed she was.

.

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"Well… this compromise works both ways, and I've been holding up my end of it—"

"Move over," Sasuke instructed.

Sakura scooted over, and continued, "So I was wondering if I can go back to the hospital for work." And after a pause, she added, "And it'll give you time to spend time with your mother… since she did come here to see you."

It was silent.

"Did you fall asleep?" She nudged him with her foot.

"No," he grunted, turning to send an irritated look at her.

"Well?" she insisted, deciding that she'd keep him up until he agreed.

Sasuke closed his eyes once more, turning on his side; letting out a mumbled "Hn."

.

It wouldn't hurt for her to go back to work… he had noticed that she'd been on edge lately ever since she tended to Naruto's cut. Probably went into a small withdrawal after being reminded of her duties, Sasuke had assumed—amused. And she may have been right that compromises work both ways, but she had been sorely mistaken when she accused him of only doing what he wanted.

She needed a few days to adjust to her role, and he had given her that—letting her interact with Naruto and his mother until she was comfortable. It would be important; they were the two closest people he had, with the exception of his elder brother and father—but they weren't around so it didn't matter.

And now since he agreed, it made things a lot simpler for when he brought up his request.

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She couldn't believe her luck! He actually agreed!

Sakura secretly thanked Sasuke for not being as difficult as she anticipated for him to be, and she couldn't help the smile that was forming on her lips. The past few days have been torture on her; she loved talking with her mother-in-law, really, but small talk was nothing compared to the adrenaline that coursed through her veins when working at the hospital. After she had agreed to play wife for him, she was forced to take a small break from her job—since most of the time she was volunteering anyway, and she didn't need the money since Sasuke was paying her.

But she missed speaking to her usual patients, absorbing new information, and observing the surgeries that Tsunade-shishou would let her in on—surgeries that she shouldn't have been watching, but did so with her mentor's permission. Now that she thought about it, it's been a while since she had talked to Ino… tomorrow she'd call the blonde, and maybe they can hang out after she headed to the clinic.

Just thinking about it made her excited—

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"Sakura."

Was she thinking out loud again?

"Huh?"

"Go to sleep," he stated grumpily. "And next time you want to ask me something, don't beat around the bush. It's annoying."

Sakura blinked, realizing that he had turned off the lights moments earlier. "Sorry," she whispered, not earning a response from the male beside her. She smiled to herself, crawling beneath the blankets and turned on her side.

"Night, Sasuke-kun."

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'I guess I wasn't as sly as I thought...'

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