Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Author's Note: I really, really enjoy writing this fanfiction. It's nice to stem away from too much drama and focus on a romance and comedy every now and then.
Dear. My. Love
by Vanitywantsyou
Chapter Two: Family and Friends
His parents' house was the same as always; hectic.
Maids were flying everywhere, trying to get everything straightened and cleaned for the weekend's events. There were even gardeners out in the front and back yards, planting and moving flowers and trees to where his mother wanted them. She stood in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in her small hands, looking a bit nervous.
"Oh, Sasuke, honey," Mikoto held a hand out to her son when she saw him round the corner. "You're here early. I do hope you brought Sakura with you."
Sasuke shook his head and looked at all of the new dining furniture. It was just like his mother to buy completely new furniture just for a party. Of course, if he were in her shoes, he'd probably do the same thing. He'd heard from his father the week before that the head members of Uchiha Medical Corporation's partner companies would be coming over to their home for an evening party, to celebrate a huge business merger.
If there was one thing his mother couldn't do, it was throw a bad party. She couldn't risk her image as the perfect wife, especially at one of the biggest parties so far.
"Sakura is spending some time with her mother," the raven ran a finger along the new marble counters, his brows raising. He wondered how much his mother had spent. "She will be until Wednesday, so unfortunately, I don't have a date for your little party," he smirked.
Mikoto sat her coffee down and pulled her youngest son close to her. Her long, dark hair fell over her shouders and her flushed pink cheek rubbed against the crown of his head.
"Darling, you can't come alone to a celebration like this!" she tapped his nose. "Surely you have a friend to bring. I know how lonely you get at mommy's parties," she pouted.
Sasuke tried not to frown at her and slap away her hand. She was his mother, after all.
"I'm not a child anymore, Okasan," he told her, stepping back. "I'll be fine."
Mikoto smiled and placed her hand against her boy's cheek.
"You've grown to be so handsome. Ah, I'm still so sad about having to give my baby boy to another woman..." she tucked long, black hair behind her pierced ear. "She better treat you right."
Sasuke frowned out of embarrasment and brushed his mother's hand aside.
"Well," she laughed softly and lifted her coffee mug up once again. "I've hogged you for long enough. Your father is in his study, if you'd like to see him. Your visits are rare these days and he's missed you," she smiled prettily and rubbed his shoulder.
He gave his loving mother a small smile before he turned and left the kitchen, heading to the right to walk down a long hallway that was decorated with various paintings his parents' had bought in Europe throughout the years. But as he kept his eyes straight ahead, the only painting he could see was the family portrait above the open doorway of his father's study. It was one of many, a memory of their trip to Hawaii.
"Otosan," Sasuke called as he approached the doorway, scribbling reaching his ears.
The sound stopped and there was a distinct shuffling coming from the far end of the room. Peering in, he saw his father struggle to stand from his wheel chair, carved wooden cane in hand. He coughed into his free hand and shifted to face his youngest son, a rough smile on his defined face as he came closer.
"It's good to see you, Sasuke," he greeted the boy as he limped along the wooden floor.
Sasuke frowned.
"You're getting worse."
Fugaku, the head of the Uchiha family, chuckled. He pulled his son into a fatherly hug, patting his hand on the raven's small back.
"You're too negative sometimes," the older male pulled back. "If I were getting worse, I would have passed full company rights onto Itachi."
"Well, if you were getting worse, you would have him prepared to receive full company rights. He told me the other day how he's finally finished his mentoring," Sasuke glared.
Fugaku pulled off a very good expression of innocence, but Sasuke wasn't buying it.
"Sasuke," he sighed, "as much as I might tell myself otherwise, I'm getting old."
"It's not old age that's affecting you, it's cancer," the raven crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, letting his eyes pass through his father. He looked at his desk covered in books and papers, his bookcases filled with manilla folders with colored tabs, his drawers that were half-way open with documents sticking out. It looked like it had gotten so bad that he'd began working at home... He faced his father again, concerned.
Truthfully, before a year ago, he and Fugaku had had issues with one another. The man had been the absolute perfect portrayal of the usual cold-hearted father seen in dramatic movies. He'd acted as if he didn't care for his sons, as if he didn't care for his wife, as if he only lived for his company and the profit he made. Sasuke had hated him his entire life. He'd hated how his family was nothing like everyone else's and that had made him bitter.
But once Fugaku had been diagnosed with malignant bone marrow cancer... things had changed dramatically. He'd began to smile more and treat Mikoto like a princess. He treated Itachi and Sasuke like they were royalty and he showed a side of him that no Uchiha knew he had hidden away. He was staring death in the face and realized that he needed to change things before he died.
Sasuke was happy with the transformation, but he couldn't help but wish that he'd changed sooner. He didn't know how long he could have his father around and he thought it was cruel to finally have a figure in his life that he'd longed for, just to have it snatched away. But he worked in the medical business. His family owned a chain of hospitals that he would visit on a regular basis. He knew how cruel life could be.
"Otosan," he said in a low voice, "how is your treatment going?"
Fugaku still held a youthful twinkle in his eye.
"Not as well as I would've hoped, but I'm not dead yet," he smiled.
"Ah," was all Sasuke could say.
"I just hope I can keep myself going long enough to see my youngest son get married," Fugaku continued, placing a large hand on the small male's head. He ruffled the hair there. "Your mother and I are very excited. Sakura is a fine woman."
"I know," he tried to smile. "I hope I can make you proud."
xxxxxxxxxx
"You're going where?.!"
Sasuke cringed at his employee's shrill yell.
"Please keep your voice down, Inuzuka. When someone whispers to you, it generally means you should whisper back."
The brown-haired factory worker nodded feverently, a bit embarrased.
"Sorry... but why exactly are you going to Harajuku?" he asked, confused. The last time he checked, his boss kept himself within the Minato-ku, Roppongi, and Akasaka area. At least, that's what he thought. No big wig would ever be seen in Harajuku, especially not an Uchiha.
The raven glanced to his left, sending a glare to the group of factory workers that were listening in on their hushed conversation. He knew it was a big deal when he came down from his office to pay the lower-level facilities a visit, but he didn't think people would stand around him and stare as if he were a famous pop star.
"A source of mine tells me you know who Uzumaki Naruto is," Sasuke kept an eye out for eavesdroppers.
Inuzuka Kiba, the junior supervisor of the factory facility, blinked chocolate eyes.
"A source...?" he snorted and crossed his arms. "Well, yeah, I know him. He's a popular musician in the Harajuku and Shibuya-ku area- Oh," he stopped himself and gave his superior a puzzled look. "Are you... Did you want to go to his show this Saturday? Is that why you're going to Harajuku? I know the guy, but not well enough to get you tickets."
"I don't need tickets," Sasuke replied calmly. "What I need is someone to bring with me. Sakura is away on family business and frankly, I want to bring someone who knows a bit about Naruto."
Kiba scrunched his nose, tucking his hands into the pockets of his gray hoodie.
"Why?"
"I have my reasons and you're not in a high enough position to know them."
The supervisor wanted to smack the bastard upside the head. He was his boss, sure, but he'd known the Uchiha since their company facility had been built four years ago. He thought he at least deserved to know what he was up to, especially if he was supposed to be involved.
"You know, you've got some nerve coming down here and disturbing the peace to treat me like we haven't known each other for a little over four years. I mean, jeez, I've only ever been a shoulder to cry in since we were nineteen," Kiba kept his voice low.
Sasuke just smirked.
"If I were to treat you like more than an employee, your position could be in jeopardy. Jealousy and greed is strong in every company, Inuzuka, remember that. I'm in charge of this entire building, yes, but there are lower-level managers who deal with firing and hiring. If someone wants to get rid of you out of jealousy or spite, it's not my problem."
Kiba gave a rough laugh.
"You're so full of yourself. Nobody around here would fire me because I'm friends with you. You're not that special," he rolled his eyes. "But about this weekend... I'll go with you as long as you fill me in on exactly what's going down."
The raven nodded, finding his terms fair enough.
"But Saturdays are usually pretty hectic. We might not even get out of work on time," Kiba mentioned.
"I'm going to be pulling long hours so that I'll be off at five that day," Sasuke answered. "And I can pull you from your shift early if you're not done by that time."
The tan worker whistled, chuckling.
"Man, you really want to go to this thing, don't you? I can't wait to find out why."
Sasuke re-thought about his personal friendships. As much of an idiot Kiba was, he was closer to the Uchiha than Gaara, Neji, or Shikamaru. And he definitely was more interesting than the lot of them, that was for sure.
Snorting, he said his good-byes and headed back in the direction of the elevator, excited for the upcoming weekend.
xxxxxxxxxxx
"I'm so jealous!" Sakura screeched on the other end. "I love your mother's parties!"
Sasuke stared at the clock in front of him, counting down the seconds until he knew his pink princess would have to get off the phone for dinner. They'd been talking for a little over thirty minutes and he was bored beyond belief. He was sure she was an entertaining lass to other people, but he couldn't find any interest in her topics of conversation. The only thing he could relate to was her sense of fashion, but that was something he'd rather not indulge in with her.
"It's a shame you can't be here," he lied, looking at his cuticles. "I would love to see you in that beautiful red dress of yours."
There was a giggle on the other line and he frowned. He glanced at the clock again. One more minute.
"Oh, stop that," she was blushing, that was for sure. "Though I am very curious as to who you're going to bring with you to the party since I won't be there."
"I was thinking of going alone, actually," he said.
"But that would be so boring- ah, it looks like dinner's ready. I'll talk to you later, sweetheart, alright?"
"Yes, of course. I'll call you when I have the time," he stood up from the plush seat in his personal library. "Good night."
Shutting his cell-phone, he sighed.
It was true that he felt nothing for his soon-to-be-bride, but he couldn't help but feel bad.
He felt guilty for truly wishing he was talking with Naruto over the phone, instead of her.
xxxxxxxxxx
It was the big day.
Sasuke felt like a small child, shifting from one foot to the other as he waited outside of a colorful bar in the very heart of Harajuku. Kiba was right beside him, smoking a cigarette and going through his texts like he was a high school girl. They didn't pay much attention to each other, but that didn't bother Sasuke at all because he was getting annoying butterflies in his stomach. He was afraid he'd throw up if he even opened his mouth.
He shivered out in the cold, hands tucked deep in his coat's pockets. It seemed as if the rain spell that had fell over Tokyo was finally gone, but in its place it left the bitter winter cold, once again. Glancing around to keep himself occupied, he watched girls and boys who were ridiculously dressed run up and down the streets. They all looked like characters out of an anime.
"Oi, ganguro girl," Kiba nudged his side and whispered, pointing to a female coming up on their right.
She was an odd orange-color, the result of a fake spray tan. Her khaki shorts were way too short, her thigh-highs way too thin, and her coat looked like something out of a Barbie catalog. Sasuke frowned, wondering how she was staying warm with such little clothing. Were people in Harajuku crazy too?
"Hey baby," the supervisor leaned forward and winked at her. "What's your name?"
The female just gave him a dirty looked and passed by without saying a word.
Sasuke tried not to laugh.
Kiba sent him a glare.
"Not a word," he folded his arms over his chest and stood closer to his boss. "You know... I didn't want to say anything before, but it's really weird hanging out with you... outside of work. You're... different..."
"How so?"
"Well, uh..." Kiba tilted his head. "You're more relaxed? Less dickish."
The raven scowled.
"Oh, they opened up!" they both heard a girl scream from the front of a line. Following her scream, it seemed like a hundred more followed.
Sasuke stiffened and finally turned to look behind him, very surprised to see exactly how long the line was. It honestly looked like a line for the Yokohama Arena, and the Uchiha wondered just how big the bar was. They'd need a small stadium for all of the guests waiting.
"An Uzumaki show never disappoints," Kiba whistled.
As the raven walked forward, he felt his chest tighten and his stomach flip from nerves.
"I'm sure," he grumbled.
No music this chapter, but plenty in the next one, I promise! It IS the concert, after all! Please review, everyone! Thank you!