Taken
"Sasuke."
"That is the deal. Company for marriage. So say yes, Sasuke, and I get my man, Itachi gets his freedom, and you get all the brotherly bonding time you'll ever want," Sakura chuckles. She lifts her glass in a pseudo-toast, before taking a slip of the Chardonnay, as the waiters come to switch plates.
My heart is still thumping, my breathing halted, as I look down at my plate. It doesn't register immediately.
Sakura's eyes widen for a split second when she realizes the dish, and all her previous mirth vanished.
Foie gras. The one mistake I have been waiting for.
Height of French culinary cuisine, excess of luxury, the dish of ambition, passion, anger. The dish that made my mother ill numerous times, forced my father to the hospital, and is now causing my brother to avert his gaze as he swallows down all the memories he has been forced to eat it, with the seedy politicians and greedy businessmen, the blind leaders and manipulative bastards.
Foie gras. Such a faux pas is enough evidence for me to place on a smug grin and strike down the gavel, because regardless of her qualifications, if Sakura cannot satisfy my brother in something as simple as a dinner, she can forget about marriage.
Yet, the only one choking is still me, as bile rises up my throat.
Sakura abruptly demands the plates be taken away, Itachi tries to calm her panic, and I am oblivious to it all, because none of this matters anymore.
Itachi is retiring.
Itachi is retiring.
Retiring, retiring, retiring.
The very idea is like a bone-crushing blow, utterly paralyzes me, as I watch all my vows snap, my achievements burn to ash, ambitions turn meaningless. To zigzag in the darkness for ages, and when you finally do find a light, a purpose you will labor for, slave for, sacrifice for, the path ends with no destination. The end justifies the means; the philosophy adopted by my family for generations. Only I have the privilege of my end stripped from me, a Knights Templar forsaken by his God.
Once the initial shock wavers, the rage settles in.
Regardless of where we stood before, Sakura has made herself an enemy the second she crossed into my territories and interfered with my plans. Perhaps her high throne has made her a little too confident, if she dares challenge me. How unfettered are my ambitions. To what lengths will I go to fulfill my purpose. Unlike Sakura, who fiercely struggles with gives and takes, I am ready to sacrifice anything to get what I want. Even the peace and happiness of my own blood brother, because those things really are worthless if they can be provided by the likes of her-
A sudden vibration snaps me back into reality.
From my pocket, I take out my blackberry and look at the number.
Though I have planned for this, the timing is still unfathomable. A call, a call, a third voice, trivial matters, something, anything to ground me back to earth. Just in case I fall apart.
I regain control of my voice, "Pardon," and exit.
It becomes much easier to think and breathe on the glass balconies, with fresh frigid air, space open to the city, and the infinite night sky.
/Um... Is this Sasuke?/
"Hinata."
A small yelp, then stammering. /Ah, is, is this a good time? Um, I-I got your c-call this morning. I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier, but it's that... I didn't- I didn't know how- um, well, truthfully, I... I would not have expected you to- just because you didn't do anything wrong, and it was all my fault actually, b-but it was still very... kind... and thoughtful.../
I bring the phone down, letting distance drown out the words, letting my fury dissipate like heat. Leave me cold, leave me numb, as I watch the skylines, the gleaming strings and bulbs of the traffic. Golden, twinkling.
Funny how one minute you think you have an entire city in the palm of your hand, and the next, realize you are but another speckle of light. An insignificant human walking in circles, following the flow of traffic, the cycles of quotidian as time pass. A lawyer who can easily obtain the so-called dream of this country, maybe alongside a kind, gentle, and honest wife who will know how to provide all the love and compassion for a family.
A family... Stability. Comfort. Rest.
After all, Itachi has traded away the best years of his life for this. To dig deep into the roots of society, he dirtied his hands beyond cleansing, made countless enemies, gambled with dangerous stakes, and through it all, unlocked his full potential as a human being and changed the world. Call him Satan, call him the Fuhrer, he still gave people all around the world not defense, but protection. Not food, but nourishment. Not shelter, but homes. Not existence, but life.
There is a lot about Itachi to be admired, jealous of, worshiped for, but for me, it is his sense of purpose. Few people have visions, fewer people pursue them; and yet, he went beyond both and became something... greater.
It is because of that we never quite met eye to eye. Before the flights came in, when the world still churned slowly, there was a time where we sat on a patio late evenings in a sort of lost paradise along the Riviera. He would read to me a book of cryptic phrases from his mind, from redundant observations to nonsensical haikus, which always drove me insane and caused me to charge him, and when we both fell over, he would press his forehead against mine and laugh. Most of what he said was lost to the wind, a portion of them would later slap my face as I play the fool. But one particular phrase, one particular moment always cemented in my mind, and that was the day he stared off into the sauntering sun, and, with a simple smile, told me he would be my ultimate obstacle in life.
He was, in many different ways. He was the genius star, bright, overshadowing, and everything just fell into his orbit, even me.
I wanted to believe he was giving me incentive to break free of his overpowering dominance, harvesting me to become something worthwhile, maybe forging me into a future weapon or shield to be by his side for his conquest. I wanted acknowledgment, I needed pride, and every time the plane landed and he reappeared in my life, it was to remind me that I still had to strive to better him. I never could, and we both knew that; it was only a thought of encouragement to help me become someone.
He meant something a little different when he said those words. That one Christmas, he held the Harvard application in his hand not because I was disappointing his high expectations, but because I was disappointing mine. Six months earlier, when he called about my college plans, he had joked of the dreadful Cambridge weather, teasingly urged for some nameless school in Hawaii, propagating sunny beaches and waves, beautiful girls and luaus, and even irresponsibly, a few good drinks.
To him, college was that transition out of your horrible, uncontrolled, mistake-ridden adolescence, a step towards full adulthood while still retaining the joys and freedoms of a child, a student who has yet to worry of employment or taxes or rent. To him, college was a fresh start for me to discover myself, my interests, and my lifetime friends. To him, any college would do, any study would do, and if it pleased me, I could very well be a musician or artist or writer, some horrid Hemmingway-wannabe with a cynic Nietzsche undertone, a broke failure, and he would nonetheless smile, act as my patron for my arts, and laud my work with enough praise to send the world spinning and buying out every copy.
When Itachi told me I was his ultimate obstacle, he didn't mean I had to surpass him, fighting rigorously to obtain a decimal of what he achieved. He was my ultimate obstacle in the sense that his entire existence was the one thing I refused to ignore, chasing after him was the one thing I stubbornly continued to do. And if I could just give him up, then I can easily walk out of his shadow, into the sunlight, enjoy my life, and just be...
/... happy, since I didn't t-think you'd remember, and you... you're the first to go all out just to r-reach me... I get embarrassed and never remember to give numbers and.../
"Hinata, would you like to meet sometime in the future? If only to make up for Friday night. My treat."
An absolute silence, before finally, a hesitant, /Do- do you mean a-/
"A date."
I pay little heed to the stammers, only wait until I hear, /Ah, um, I guess that's... okay...-/ and that's all I need.
"Do you have a preferred time or location?"
/Um... anytime after six is fine. And I guess any... c-cafe? Like m-maybe the one around campus... I heard they came out with a good drink, a chocolate twist... or maybe the Au Bon-/
"The former sounds good. I must still confirm my own schedule, but I'll get back to you when I do."
Then, as an afterthought, "And Hinata, I am switching phones, so if it's a different number..."
/Oh! Okay, I understand. And t-thank you so much!/
"No, thank you," I conclude as I make my way back to the table, then hang up.
Both Itachi and Sakura look up at me, out of concern or curiosity.
"Did something happen, Sasuke?" Sakura questions, her fifth course untouched. There is no appetite by now.
"No," I say. "Just a date."
Itachi contains his shock much better than Sakura, who incredulously asks, "You asked a woman out on a date at a time like this?"
"I cannot control when someone calls," I respond coolly, "nor would it be polite of me to put a lady on hold."
I place my cellphone on the table, not bothering to reseat.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, it has been a long night, and I would like to leave."
"What! Sasuke, you can't just-"
I interrupt her. "If I say yes, then I am free from the rest of this insufferable dinner. Was that not the condition? Then, I say yes. Yes, you have my permission. Yes, you may marry my brother. Yes, you may have your wedding whenever it pleases you. But..."
Here, I turn to Itachi. "But this is the last time I will be bothered. I respect your wishes to marry and retire, Itachi, but do not waste your time on me, because I have no time to waste on you. I do not want you here. So please, after the wedding, respect my wishes and stay away."
I hear a chair violently slide out. I hear my name shouted and cursed. I hear Sakura's heel ready to follow me had a hand not stopped her.
I feel Itachi's gaze burning into my back as I exit. He remains the one to sit calmly, because he is tactful enough to let me depart, allow me room and time to think. He wants to avoid unnecessary conflicts. In my current mood, I am dangerous, venomous, threatening. Sakura herself is a fiery woman who isn't below dealing mental or physical blows to her adversaries. In this escalating tension, it is best to console her first, track me down second.
Only, he will fail with the latter.
I want to useful and worthy, and that undying will has brought me to where I am today. Unfortunately, if he retires, then I am left with no use and no worth to prove, which, of course, leaves only his will. For once, I shall comply.
But if Itachi wants me to be happy, living that ordinary existence with the beautiful wife and family, then I am afraid his presence will only hinder that.