I'd just like to note that Naruto and Sasuke are 17 and 18 respectively in this story – and that Sasuke is an established romance novelist purely because he's so gifted at writing them, discovered at a young age. Seems like the sort of ironic thing that would befall our poor Sasu-chan: being forced to write about something he detests for a living (or purely to fund his addiction to John Freida, who can tell? Damn that stuff is expensive though...).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
Out of the corner of his eye, Naruto could spot a furious Kiba charging towards him. Cussing, he leapt to his feet preparing for the chase that was bound to ensue. Kiba had that feral edge to his features that made Naruto seriously concerned for his safety... And Naruto rarely ever was serious. Kiba was usually a laid-back guy, and Naruto always enjoyed his company. However, he had also been witness to the few occasions where Kiba had been really, really mad. It took a lot to get the usually calm and collected man riled up - say, for example, someone knocking over a teetering tower of make-up that had not only taken a good two hours to meticulously stack, but had also de-masculinised the stacker to the extent that, as a male, was not entirely comfortable. Suffice to say, Naruto knew to run.
After his sprint (and judging himself a safe distance from Kiba) Naruto promptly collapsed, drained, in a heap on the nearest bench - bum narrowly missing the vagrant snoozing there. As he tried to scoot away, his foot knocked into what appeared to be the ugliest sex doll Naruto had ever seen [1], poking out of one of the tramps large plastic carrier bags. Naruto's eyes widened in further terror when he further observed the vagrant; who was dressed in what appeared to be a black boiler suit, with full on purple slap covering his face in an Aztec-like pattern. The tramp jumped with a start, eyes snapping open making Naruto freeze in fear, this man was SCARY – why would you do that to your face, seriously? This was the second time he'd been glared at with utter contempt today (third if you include Kiba). And that doll in his bag...
After a few moments of silence an angry bark erupted from the tramp, as he began cussing and swearing rather incoherently at the person who'd dared disturb his sleep. This was when Naurot's seemingly depleted adrenaline levels decided to jazz back to life, suddenly finding himself able to move again.
Jogging home Naruto contemplated his trip to the store, just realising that he must've misplaced his sweet treat beneath the now collapsed make-up tower, to which he had been looking forward: this was NOT his day.
Sasuke hurriedly locked the door and threw off his jacket in a messy heap on the floor, disregarding any coat peg - very unusual for the somewhat neurotic male, brow furrowed more so than usual in deep concentration. Whipping a clump of fresh and crisp white sheets of paper from the bureau, Sasuke threw himself into his plush scarlet chair at the desk by the window from which he had been glaring that very morning with his infuriating writers block. But now...
Remembering he still had no pencil with which to write, Sasuke snatched up a black biro and allowed his thoughts to spill onto the paper. A beautiful blonde with the miracle smile...
His usually immaculate script rapidly becoming more and more unrecognisable, and the sun steadily giving way to the milky white moon and the thousands of buttons of light that illuminate the night sky: Sasuke Uchiha wrote the novel of his life.
One week later.
BRRRRRRING.
"Hnnnn." Sasuke groaned from his bed, 'what idiot would be ringing at this hour?'
BRRRRRRING. BRRRRRRRRRRRING.
Sasuke begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed, running elegant fingers through tousled bed hair. Upon reaching the phone, it was promptly ripped from its cradle. "Yes?"
"Good morning, Sasuke!" A voice chirped on the other end of the line, "how are you feeling? Long time no speak! Wow, so much has been going on here..." Sasuke knew this voice, and promptly slammed down the phone.
He stood stoic, his forehead pressed against one cool scarlet painted wall, it really was too early for –
BRRRRRRRING.
"What!" Sasuke snarled down the line.
"Must've been a bad connection or something before, Sasuke-chan! Honestly, I'm so sorry, you must've thought I was really rude! Thought I'd hung up on you, ne? I hope you know I'd never do that to you Sasuke-chan! But like I was saying, my ex has been, like, totally hounding me. I think he's jealous of you Sasuke, well - I do talk about you all the time, I suppose, and I know he's still, like, totally in love with me and all and-"
"Sakura, get to the point."
"Oh, Sasuke, sorry! It's early, y'know? Honestly, I've just been so busy lately and it's seriously been way too long since we talked. I know - we should totally meet up sometime and catch up! There's a gorgeous new restaurant just opened on Juniper Grove and Daisy went last week and she said it was just-" Sasuke cleared his throat; this girl pushed his patience to limits he wasn't aware he possessed. "Well, um, the boss wants to see you, something about your latest draft of a novel..? He wants you here at four pm today, please."
"Hn." Sasuke grunted, before dropping the phone from his ear.
"Great, so, see you then I guess! I seriously can't-" The receptionist's voice was instantly severed as Sasuke hit the button he knew would leave only a sweet, glorious dial tone reverberating throughout his apartment.
"Two men, Uchiha? MEN?! Since when do people enjoy reading about these sorts of things, hmmm? Who would want to read about horrible, disgusting trash like this?!" [AN: me! ME!!] Insults exploded from the red, splotchy face within a proximity that was not favourable in Sasuke's eyes - personally having a two metre rule of propinquity. Anyone who entered this space was in severe danger of being beaten. Add to this that Sasuke had spent thirteen hours straight writing the work that was currently being torn to pieces by this overweight, balding man and you had a volcano on the brink of eruption. Sasuke was immensely pleased with the finished result himself, obviously it needed a few tweaks: but the essence and spirit of what he was trying to convey on the page was there. For once he felt a... connection.
"Answer me Uchiha! You're clearly taking the piss with this; do you want to waste the company's money publishing books no-one would seriously buy?! This isn't what you're paid for..."
Flecks of spit were being sprayed in Sasuke's face with disgusting regularity, and a tick was slowly developing in his cheek as he tried to contain his repulsion. Punching his boss would not be smart, no matter how satisfying. Instead Sasuke attempted to withhold his distaste by observing the posters on the board-room walls; one in particular caught his eye advertising a new novel by the name of Icha Icha Paradise. It appeared to be an 'adult' novel, by someone called Jiraiya. Sasuke sniffed in distaste, crinkling his nose: smut depreciated even the very best of novels in his opinion, and this one appeared to be the dirtiest of smut concentrates – judging by the large quantity of scantily dressed women on the poster.
"Ah, I see you're looking at the newest novel we're publishing. It really is very good, Uchiha, maybe you could learn a thing or two by reading it. THAT'S what the public want: steamy novels about beautiful women."
'Correction: what you want to read, you sick voluminous bastard.' Sasuke growled internally, how was cheap smut any more credible than his work of art? Which he was adamant was brilliant (which wasn't such an irregular occurrence for Sasuke, really, but there was something truly special about this one).
"At this rate you won't even be second-rate to Danielle; you'll be THIRD rate to our new star – Jiraiya." Sasuke had really had it now; rising from his chair, he pulled back his right arm in preparation for delivering a devastating blow to the man's...
At the last second, the man before him turned and paced to the window to his left, giving Sasuke the opportunity to hastily lower himself back into his seat and recover himself. As much as Sasuke hated his publisher, he really needed the money from his novels... Since his parents had died and his brother gone missing, Sasuke had had to provide for himself – and had luckily been able to live in a state of relative luxury by capitalising on his skills as a novelist, however much he loathed the subject matter.
The publisher must have assumed Sasuke's silence was one of agreeance, and proceeded to move to the next topic on his agenda.
"Now, Mr Uchiha, there is a book party next week you are obliged to attend. It's this Friday, 7pm, Mayfair, and you need to dress smart. No ifs or buts: you WILL be there. Quite frankly you need the press attention, your current sales are pathetic, and with any luck you might gather some half-way decent inspiration there. You need to be around other authors more than ever, this last scrawling mess you sent me is proof of that – perhaps you could even steal a few decent ideas. Now get out of my sight."
Sasuke nodded curtly, before stalking into the reception area and in the direction of the waiting elevator. He hated social gatherings of any kind, and this one sounded particularly excruciating.
"Sasuke – hey! Wait! How'd it go? What about out dat-"
'I hate my life.' Sasuke Uchiha lamented, as the elevator doors closed with a decisive click.
[1] ...this being Kankuro's wooden puppet thingy he lugs around, which is scary on so many levels and personally I find reeks of kink. Then again I'm dirty minded. I felt the need to explain this as one reader thought it was an ACTUAL sex doll, doh.
But who knows what else Kankuro does with that thing...
AN: Well here it is, my attempt at turning the rather random last chapter into something that kind-of, sort-of resembles something with a plot. Poor Naruto losing his beloved pocky!
Thanks lots for the reviews they really motivate me to write. I've already started writing the next chapter, and Danielle Steele herself may make an appearance... Who knows? – I'm just the author :3
Characters belong to Kishimoto etc. etc. etc.