Chapter 6

Over the next few days, Sasuke got to know Itachi better. The more he knew Itachi, the less terrifying he was. Those parts of his personality were overshadowed by a nagging helicopter parent version of him. In a word, Sasuke wasn't as antsy as he initially was around the large, now less stoic, man.

Despite such, the people around Itachi were still on the balls of their feet, often looking like they were walking on eggshells. Their gazes would flicker nervously as if they'd seen a ghost. The only balancing factor was that his men had respect in their eyes. The only two people who were acting normal were Neji and Naruto.

He was now able to walk about a third of the mile at a decent leisure pace without hunching over in pain, and he had taken it upon himself to do more daily walks to help keep his muscles working to prevent atrophy. So when the two were too busy bickering to realize it, they had come to a stop before the scene of the crime.

The boy had bent down to examine the light colored tiles, which covered the entirety of the outdoor location without so much as a crevice between each piece.

"Hey… Wasn't this a grassy meadow a week ago?" he questioned one mid afternoon, interrupting the two men mid bicker. "Why are there tiled floors now?"

"Redecorating."

"Structural damage."

Naruto and Neji respectively said. Each response collided with the other, causing Sasuke to look at them suspiciously.

"So which one is it?" he asked pointedly.

"Structural damage," Neji responded casually with a shrug. "Had to revamp the whole thing to make things prettier."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "It sounds like you're trying to sugarcoat your words to make your explanation sound nicer than it is."

"Your observational skills are getting better, Princess," Neji replied with a half smirk, but he didn't elaborate. A lollipop dangled from his lips. Cherry this time.

Sasuke frowned. "Does this have anything to do with what happened nine days ago?"

Another shrug. "You'd have to ask the Boss."

Sasuke left it be because he knew he wouldn't get anything out of him past what he had just given. Over the course of days, he'd hear whispers left and right when he was in the room, murmurs of proceedings that he was not privy to. It got to a degree where he walked out of the room each time, because he was so annoyed by it.

The chatter was strictly business, business that Sasuke didn't need to stick his head into, but there were probably times when they were exchanging words about him right in front of his face as if he was a ghost or statue. Incredibly rude, he knew.

Speaking of the boss, the rays of sunlight suddenly disappeared and Sasuke cautiously glanced behind him, the discomfort of sudden shadows giving him a touch of anxiety. When his eyes settled on Itachi, a brooding one at that judging by the displeasure plastered on his face, the anxiety disappeared on the spot.

Yeah. Ironic, he knew. A yakuza leader was standing in front of him, and now, not only did he not blink twice, but his anxiety was squashed by his presence.

"What's up?" he asked, shifting his weight to turn his body in Itachi's direction.

He ignored the widened gaze he received from Naruto and the silent laughter from Neji in the background. Their facial expressions and reactions to everything that came out of his mouth were getting old. It was like everything he said to Itachi was incredibly astounding to them, and he didn't get why.

Itachi gifted the boy his daily dose of a scowl, the lines on his face deepening with the expression. "Why are you outside?"

Sasuke was too used to it by now to be intimidated or annoyed. "Because you told me that your home is my home, Itachi, so I can go where I want."

"How long have you been on your feet?"

Sasuke's face twisted in thought. "I don't remember. Why?"

Next thing the boy knew, he was swept into the man's strong pair of arms. Yet again.

Sasuke managed not to roll his eyes this time. "I'm okay, you know," he borderline whined, fingers clasping onto the front of the man's suit, his silk lapels to be exact. "Sasori said to take walks and slowly get my strength back."

"Sasori doesn't know what he's talking about."

Sasuke snorted, body jostling slightly as the man began to walk. Itachi sounded like a petulant child. "Out of the three of us, I think only one of us has a medical degree, and it's not me and definitely not you."

"Your stitches will tear."

This time, the boy actually did roll his eyes. "You've said that so many times. My stitches have probably started to dissolve by now."

"Your stitches will tear."

Sasuke hmphed. There was no getting through to that man. He was even more stubborn and impenetrable than Sasuke was. The boy sighed. "I appreciate your concern."

It was then that, upon uttering his statement, Itachi's sturdy strides halted, paused really. Sasuke had started noticing this phenomenon more often. Each time he was in the absurdly muscled man's arms, the man would occasionally pause when Sasuke spoke. Despite knowing this, Sasuke could not make the connection between his words and the oddity of the man's behavior. It wasn't like he said anything crazy or abnormal.

Eventually, Itachi's footsteps resumed, escorting him down the long hallway to a bedroom Sasuke had become very familiar with.

"You are welcome."

Once again, for quite possibly the hundredth time, Sasuke was placed gingerly on the bed, which was already manually propped up so he can remain sitting.

"Are you hungry?"

"No…."

"What is it?"

"I want something sweet. Maybe cookies." Sasuke was privy to an arched eyebrow for his response.

"You like sweets?"

"Don't you?"

Itachi didn't answer him. In fact he ignored his other question as well. The man simply turned on the TV, selected a movie, and placed the remote in Sasuke's hand. "Sit," he said. "Watch."

Sasuke nearly laughed. God, the way Itachi talked. Man. He was starting to find it amusing as opposed to controlling or demanding. At least Itachi was actually speaking to him instead of blatantly staring at him from across the dining room table without a word.

Ten minutes or so must have gone by before Itachi stepped in again. This time Sasuke noticed the man had a plate in his hand. "Is that for me?" he asked cheekily, as he tried to prop himself up further to catch a glimpse of what it was.

He didn't have to do that for very long because he felt a large palm smooth out the blanket covering his thighs before the man placed down the plate. On it: baked goods.

Chocolate chip cookies and dango.

Man, he had not seen or eaten dango for years. Not since he was a kid. How nostalgic.

"You just had all of this lying around?" he asked, mirth brimming in his eyes as he felt the bedside dip next to him. The man refused to answer, but Sasuke wasn't expecting an answer. He grabbed onto a stick of dango and passed the other one to Itachi, who took it wordlessly. "I guess the chefs cook more than just fancy meals for you, huh?"

Sasuke took a bite of the pink-colored dango before him, and a fusion of strawberry and light vanilla flavors burst in his mouth. "Holy cow, this is good," he muttered. "I used to eat these when I was a kid, but no one makes or sells them nowadays."

Again, the man was silent. Except Sasuke didn't feel like he was talking to the wind, because every time he glanced at the man, Itachi was looking straight at him.

They sat there side-by-side tearing apart all of the desserts on the plate until it was empty.

"Thank you," Sasuke said with a small smile. "It was good."

"Of course."

Another moment of silence before, "So is this like something everyone knows about you, or is it a super secret?" Sasuke inquired, gesturing at the empty plates of sweets.

Itachi stared at him, the gears in his head turning as if he was deciding if he should and how he should answer. Sasuke noticed, so he waved off his question. "It's not important. You don't have to tell me. I was just curious."

"...Secret," Itachi finally muttered, causing Sasuke to look from the television to him. For once, the man wasn't staring at him, intentionally avoiding Sasuke's prodding gaze.

"That's cool," Sasuke said with a small smile. "It's good to keep at least one thing like that just for yourself."

As soon as he spoke those words, Sasuke was startled by a palm on his knee. He looked to Itachi for some sort of explanation, but as soon as their eyes met, the boy held his breath. The emotions swirling in the man's eyes were odd, as if he was identifying and grappling with them at the same time. He probably didn't even know why he reached out to touch Sasuke.

Itachi's lips were pressed into a thin line like he was angry with himself, and then, as soon as the touch was there, it disappeared and the man stood abruptly, turning to leave.

Sasuke reached out to him on a whim, just like he did in the convenience store, except this time he didn't let go immediately out of fear. He gripped onto the hem of Itachi's sleeve, feeling the man pause under his touch. Sasuke exhaled inaudibly. He was afraid the man would have flicked his hand away.

"Thank you for dessert," he said, sincerity evident in his tone.

He did not receive a response nor did he expect one. As soon as he was done thanking the man, he let go and Itachi left.

H.J.

Since the moment Itachi stumbled upon the boy one late night at the convenience store, Sasuke was a walking anomaly to Itachi. At that time, the boy was hovering over a copy of The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, specifically the poem, "The Raven."

He couldn't have stared for more than two seconds, but the boy's head had snapped up immediately as if sensing his gaze. Once he settled his eyes on him, Itachi readied himself for crippling, earth-shattering fear. Perhaps another account of being spoken to like a small-time crook robbing the place.

Except… he only sensed nervousness. Maybe a hint of fear, sure, but Itachi was a foreboding figure.

"Hi," the boy said, clearing his throat and stowing away what looked like homework. Eyes full of kindness were bestowed upon Itachi. "The bentos have recently been stocked."

Itachi blinked and walked toward the refrigeration section of the place. He thought it odd that, despite being someone who looked like a monster in someone's closet, he could be greeted so kindly by a stranger. Aside from Neji and Naruto, everyone would avoid eye contact with him as if he'd set them on fire with a single glance.

When he set his bottle of water on the counter and waited to be rung up that first time, the boy had a butane lighter in his hand.

"I saw you staring at them when you came in. I thought you might have wanted one. I can put it back if you don't need it." His voice came out nervous and he had a hard time maintaining eye contact, Itachi had observed while he fiddled with his own lighter inside of his pocket.

He nodded slightly after mulling it over, paid, and headed out.

The second time he entered the convenience store was a week later on the exact same weeknight. Again, the boy was hovering over coursework.

He was gifted with another greeting. "Oh, hello. Nice to see you again," the boy said, although still nervously.

It wasn't a rare occurrence for Itachi to be greeted. He was greeted so often in his manor that it grew vexing, but the way this boy greeted him was somehow different from the stoic, monotonic ones he was so accustomed to.

He had been staring through the glass in the back, already knowing which brand of water he would take, when ruckus erupted at the front of the store. He ignored it and finally grabbed onto the one he always got before he strolled over to pay.

"... We don't have change…. Punching me in the face will not change the store policy…"

Itachi caught snippets of an argument and laid eyes on a stranger fisting the boy's shirt, eyes filled with rage. He caught a glimpse of a signature snake tattoo around the man's bicep and his nonchalant features nearly twitched in annoyance. He waited a few more seconds, the length of his patience as the man in front of him continued his incessant bitching, and then, he was done.

His hand came out to subdue the man, slamming the man's face against the counter before smashing his cheek against it. Simultaneously, he twisted the hebi-tatted arm behind, intent on breaking it.

Scum.

The boy behind the counter didn't need scum in his life. Especially not from a disgusting hooligan that belonged to that snake-faced miscreant.

On any other night, Itachi would have slammed him down by his neck, pressed a cold nozzle against his forehead, and sprayed his brain matter along the counter while staring into his dead eyes. But he didn't that night, resisting the urge, and instead left his gun, an exchange for the bottle of water.

What initially was two encounters turned to three. This was also the time Neji trailed in minutes after him, mouth running a mile a minute. The brunette was as crass and flamboyant as ever, but it was nothing new.

Tuna? Not this late in the evening.

Condoms? That would imply that he had a partner who wanted to either use him as a stepping stone for popularity, fame and riches or assassinate him. He was very selective in who he fucked.

Besides, the garbage Neji spouted was unsuitable for the young boy behind the counter, who looked as sweet and doe-eyed as Bambi.

But he didn't deny that his eyes flickered to the round mirror in the aisle he stood in when Neji talked about condoms. The mirror reflected the front desk, or more specifically the boy's features, which turned a shade of pink akin to sakura blossoms in the spring.

Itachi recalled leaving the store oddly captivated. Not the kind of captivated wherein he was in a moment of a pure, hardcore beat down and was in his zone, but rather something more… sensual.

So now, Itachi found himself staring down at the boy who took a bullet for him with no hesitation. No hidden motives. He did it simply out of the kindness of his heart, and Itachi knew because Sasuke was different. The innocence in his eyes, the patterns of his behaviors and expressions, and his direct, yet somehow kind words. He held no malice, no intent, no ill-will.

It took so long for Sasori to treat him because he had lost so much blood that it needed to be replaced. At that point in time, Itachi was already privy to Sasuke's file, an entire life's worth of it, including his medical files and blood type. Coincidentally, he was the same blood type.

He'd been adamant about doing a direct blood transfusion, refusing Sasori's suggestion to use what they had in stock.

He had never been so out of control of his emotions in his life. This personable, kind boy idiotically took a bullet for him and was bleeding out on his bed. He was enraged. How could this small, defenseless boy, so unaccustomed to pain and damage, take a bullet like that?

"I said use my blood," he nearly growled.

"Oyabun, that isn't wise. If I do that and trouble comes knocking, you won't be in any shape to act," Sasori said to his face.

"It is not up for discussion. Do it now, or I will jab the needle in myself."

Sasuke had been sleeping for two days and two nights after that. Sasori said that he'd wake up when his body felt that it had recuperated enough, and that his current coma-like state was due to the body reserving its energy to support the healing process.

Itachi found himself checking on the boy often, too often in fact that, when Neji or Naruto needed something from him, the bedroom was the first place they looked.

"How's he doing?" Naruto asked on day two.

A bit of color had returned to the boy's cheek, but he looked so weak and fragile laying in that enormous bed with needles in both arms that Itachi had growled at the question. The blonde had flinched and pushed Neji front and center instead, opting to wait by the door.

"There's a situation out front, Itachi-sama," Neji said hushedly. "We have a visitor."

"You're the shateigashira. Handle it."

"You, uh, probably won't like the way I handle it, Itachi-sama. And our visitor is one you would prefer to handle," Neji responded, forcing Itachi to stand abruptly. Bloodshed at his front doorstep was not what he needed.

"Watch him," he commanded, his voice so cold that it lowered the temperature of the room. "Do not leave his side."

"Understood."

In that moment, it was evident to all parties in the room that Itachi believed the boy needed protecting. That it was his responsibility to provide that protection at all costs, even if that meant sacrificing his second-in-command for that sole purpose.

And that's what Neji was, the shateigashira. Technically, he was third in command, manning the territories they had a hand in. However, they didn't have a waka in the organization, which was set up that way by Itachi, so second-in-command fell to him.

So, for Itachi to leave his second-in-command and best fighter behind to protect a young boy while he went to deal with a volatile situation was quite different than his usual way of operating.

But somehow not surprising.

When Itachi made his way out of the front doors, his gaze hardened when it landed on the unwelcomed visitor on his stoop. The man had yet to halt his footsteps, half of his body through the entryway, when something round and large was tossed at him.

With no hesitation, his hand slid between his coat and shirt, sliding his glock out of his holster, and fired three rounds at the item midair. The force of the bullets hitting dead center one after another propelled the item back in the visitor's direction, causing it to land with a thud on the ground, before it rolled to a stop at the other man's feet.

A long, slimy tongue rolled out from the visitor's mouth, sliding across the man's lower lip and chin, before it slung its way back inside. His slow gaze followed the immobile object at his feet and trailed back to Itachi.

Itachi's face was blank, demeanor detached, as he slung his gun back.

"I've never pegged you for a traditional fellow, Itachi-san," the snake hissed. "Not until you sent me this lovely present." The man gave the shriveled-up head at his feet a kick, propelling it into the meadow adjacent to where he stood.

A scowl slowly made its way onto Itachi's face. This man was below scum.

"What the hell do you want?" Naruto growled over Itachi's left shoulder, shooting daggers at the unwelcomed stranger.

"Is that any way to greet the new oyabun of the East division?" the man sneered, snake-like fangs glinting underneath the sun. "I thought you taught your lackeys better than that."

That's all he did. Toss words out to see who would catch them. Actually, hoping that Itachi would catch them.

Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.

His words dripped of filth because anyone who sneered at a subordinate's decapitated head and kicked it around like a soccer ball was the lowest of the low, and this is what Orochimaru represented: barbaric, psychopathic madness.

"I simply returned your gift in one piece," Itachi responded, a low lazy drawl to his tone as if he couldn't have been bothered by Orochimaru's presence. The inflection at the end of his sentence was incredibly slight, the double entendre representing his driest form of humor.

Itachi had kept the shooting under wraps, shutting down any word of it within the manor. That meant that no one outside of his subordinates would have known that an injury had occurred, one that bugged the man in a way that he'd never experienced before, and he was confident that word had not leaked because his members knew how to keep a tight lip.

Unless there had been a second intruder, whose job was simply to observe and report. Currently, however, there was no evidence of that and Itachi surmised that the man came to gloat about his new position upon overthrowing Danzo.

"So you've acknowledged that it is my good intention. I've been sending gifts your way for years, Itachi," the snake bastard hissed, a creepy fucking smile adhereing to his face as if superglued there. "I'd thought you'd warm up to me by now, but you're as inflexible as ever."

The way the man looked at him, filled with perversion and lust, would have made any man cringe, but not Itachi. He regarded it with blatant nonchalance and almost sighed.

He should have let Neji come in his place. He was getting too old for this.

"You have three seconds to get off my property," his deadened tone responded. His voice was low, quiet even, but he knew Orochimaru could hear him just fine.

"Oh? Is that a threat, Itachi?"

The way he said Itachi's name was absolutely disgusting. Even Naruto grunted behind him, put off by the lechery in his voice and the gleam in his eyes.

Without another word, Itachi raised his fist. He held three fingers up, and with each passing second, he began to lower each one. Three…

"You wound me."

The clicking of metal rang throughout the entire compound.

Two…

"I'm so pleasant to you, yet you're so cruel to me. I'm hurt."

One of Orochimaru's henchmen spoke up, anxiety filling his voice. "Orochimaru-sama."

One…

"Have it your way then, Itachi. I will see you soon."

When Itachi got to zero, the men had already begun walking toward their car. The man stared at the sky as he heard the engine roar to life and slowly began to fade away, signaling its distance. Finally, he turned to head back into the manor, swiping his hand over his shoulder.

Instantly, the hoard of men with semi-automatics lowered their weapons with a bow and began retreating back into the shadows.

"Bring a glass of water to Sasuke, Naruto," Itachi commanded. "Leave it on his nightstand."

"Yes, Boss."

Itachi had spent too much time away from the injured boy, and he wanted to get back as soon as possible. Some cool water would probably be good for Sasuke. He looked a little warm when Itachi left his side.

His steps met the ground with purpose, accelerating slightly for reasons he could hardly pinpoint.

"I assumed you had enough self-control to refrain from killing him this time," Neji remarked cheekily when Itachi stepped into the room. The brunette was sitting in the armchair next to the bed with his back against the wall and eyes trained on the windows and doors. A gun rested lazily in his hand, which was propped up on an armrest.

Had Itachi killed that man, he would make it as messy as possible. He was more than capable of not getting a speck of blood on his clothing when he went about his business, but, on the rare occasion that he did, it was deliberate. For someone like Orochimaru, he would have chosen the latter method.

And Neji knew this.

This was why he was second-in-command. He was bright and observant from the get-go. He displayed talent, he approached situations strategically, and he was capable of anything. He was able to assess situations from the shadows, drawing conclusions to unspoken facts. Just like Itachi, he was never driven by emotion. Always rationale and logic.

Never had Itachi seen the younger man flinch from carving up or gutting another person. Granted, those specific techniques were Neji's specialty, but he wasn't a loose cannon. Sure, he enjoyed the maiming, but he never allowed it to distort his reality nor affect the situation. His ability to think rationally and approach situations logically, as well as his physical fitness and combat skills, made him the obvious choice for a leader.

If Itachi ever retired from his position as oyabun, Neji would be the obvious choice. Everyone knew this. However, in their line of work, retirement was laughable. Utterly ridiculous. The only way any oyabun would retire is if they retired into their coffins.

When all of this started, Itachi would admit that there were a few things that needed adjusting to, but now everything was fluid. Rocky, but still flowed with a sense of consistency and direction. Retirement was unfounded.

"If I am not here, watch him. Between you and Naruto."

Itachi didn't have to explain himself for the brunette to understand that "here" meant Itachi being physically inside this bedroom standing or sitting right next to the boy. The exception to this rule was during nightfall, because Itachi was always in the room at dark. It was his bedroom after all. Both parties knew this.

Neji nodded dutifully. "You got it, Boss."

That was when the glass of water was delivered by a flustered blond, who was given a slow languid, yet cold, look from Itachi as he set the glass on the nightstand.

"Out," Itachi commanded, attention already back on the slumbering boy. Both men bowed, backed out, and closed the door behind them without another peep.

Upon setting his eyes on Sasuke, the man's face twisted abnormally, creating a foreign expression. He pressed a flat palm against the boy's forehead and scowled when scorching heat beat back against his hand.

Itachi stood and walked over to the master bath, returning with two wet towels in a bowl of cold tap water. He set it on the nightstand first and brushed the covers off of Sasuke. With incredible precision, he unbuttoned the large, long-sleeved nightshirt he had changed the boy into last night and flung it open, exposing a slim, yet toned pale chest.

It was drenched in sweat. Gingerly, he curled an arm between the mattress and the boy's back, lifting him up so he could tug off the shirt. That left Sasuke's upper body bare.

Itachi's eyes wandered down to the patch of white along Sasuke's side and a dark scowl covered his countenance. The gauze and bandage was still stained pink. Not as much as a day ago, but still unacceptable.

The man proceeded to tug off his own suit, tossing his scarf, coat, and vest on the armchair. Then, he rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt before he stepped into bed from the opposite end. When he was at Sasuke's side, he, once again, lifted the boy's upper body up and slid his large body behind him.

The cool wood headboard pressed firmly into his back, and he was able to stretch out his legs so that they rested outside of the boy's body. With little effort, Itachi gently dragged Sasuke up, so that the boy's head was resting along his collarbone and his back was pressed against his chest. Sasuke groaned in his state, nuzzling against him, before he went quiet.

With the hand closest to the nightstand, Itachi reached over and squeezed dry a cold towel before he brought it in front of both of their bodies and folded it thrice. He pressed it against Sasuke's forehead, a frown marring his unblemished features when he heard a groan echo from Sasuke's throat as he tossed slightly, cheek now pressed against his shoulder as if seeking relief from his troubles.

Itachi ignored the odd burning sensation in his chest and wrung out some water from the second towel, leaving it damper than the first. While keeping the folded towel pressed against the boy's forehead, Itachi used his dominant hand to drag the second towel over the boy's chest and abdomen, going as far as his hips, but never touching the bandages and their surrounding edges.

When the folded towel grew warm, he tossed it back into the bowl and used that available arm to tilt and hold Sasuke's chest forward, so that he could wipe down his back. He tried not to move the boy's body too much lest he aggravate his injury or tore the stitches, but over the last two days, this was the easiest position that allowed him easier access to take care of Sasuke.

When he was finished, he slowly slid out from behind the boy and carefully laid him back down. The rarity of how careful and slow his motions were would have put him off in any other situation, but, here, he was intentionally meticulous and attentive.

Now standing next to the nightstand, he placed another folded towel over Sasuke's forehead and left it there. Picking up the cool glass of water Naruto had dropped off earlier, he brought it up to his lips and took a small sip before he set it down.

Itachi blanketed Sasuke's face with his own, a strong hand moving between their bodies to pry open the boy's mouth. With not a single ounce of hesitation, his lips crashed onto the boy's and formed a tight seal. Itachi's tongue came forward and led the way to breach the boy's mouth, which was then followed by a trickle of water.

"Swallow, Sasuke," he commanded softly against the boy's lips, only removing himself when the water had disappeared. "Good boy. Again," he murmured, eyes trained solely on the slumbering boy.

The man repeated this a plethora of times until the entire glass was empty. It must have taken closer to twenty minutes to conduct this transfer, but Itachi was used to it, having done it thrice a day since the injury occurred. That was when Sasuke first complained about being "thirsty" in his sleep, and Itachi refused to let the boy suffer any more than he had.

H.J.

When day ten reared its head, the boy was as bouncy as a rabbit. He slinked around the compound with more ease and in a lighter mood. One moment, he would be in the pavilion enjoying the fresh air and his mobility, and the next he would be picking flowers in the garden.

Despite such, he noticed either Neji or Naruto or both were always on his tail. At one point, he stuck an eyebrow high in the air, staring at the both of them. "You guys know I'm not going to fall down dead in a ditch out of nowhere, right?" he asked.

"Pfft. Of course not, Princess. We're here after all," Neji responded fluidly and with ease, prompting a jaw drop from Sasuke.

"Don't tell me Itachi told you to watch me? Am I a prisoner of war or something?" he muttered.

"Are prisoners of war allowed to pick bouquets of flowers in a three-acre garden?" the brunette replied with a smirk, gesturing at the flowers in Sasuke's hands.

Sasuke stuck his tongue out at him. "Itachi is such a worry wart. My wound is pretty much healed at this point."

"You lost a lot of blood, Sasuke," Naruto piped in, eyes sympathetic. "Itachi-sama was the one who carried you inside. His hands were all covered in your blood."

Sasuke felt a phantom ache along his abdomen upon the mentioning of the incident. "Ah, well, I'm okay now."

"I heard from Sasori-san that our Boss refused to use our blood bank to treat you, and he insisted his own blood needed to be used for your transfusion."

"Oh." Sasuke's brows drew together. "But why would he do that?"

"I wonder," Neji said, sending Naruto a shut up look. "I will say that I've personally never even seen his bedroom, much less step into it, until I was asked to watch over you."

Sasuke froze. "What?" he said slowly as if his brain was processing the new information. "Hold on. You're saying that the room I've been staying in for the last ten days is actually Itachi's bedroom?"

Neji and Naruto nodded.

"For reals. I've never even been anywhere near it either," the blonde added.

"Guh," Sasuke groaned, slapping a palm over his face. "Now I feel bad for taking his bed."

Neji's vibrant laughter rang in Sasuke's ears. "Don't worry, Princess. I'm absolutely positive Itachi-sama does not mind. Besides, that's nothing compared to what you did for our oyabun."

Sasuke stared. "Oyabun, huh?" he finally said, almost teasingly. "Are you finally admitting your yakuza ties?"

A smirk graced Neji's lips. "Hmm. I wonder."

Sasuke shrugged off the cryptic response because, deep down, he already had his answer. He trudged through the garden for a few more minutes with two bickering men behind him.

"Does Itachi have an office?" he asked, brushing off the dirt on his pants as he stood up from his crouched position. He found himself staring into two sets of eyes.

"Why do you ask?" Neji responded, tilting his head slightly.

To Sasuke, that gesture made him appear so adorable and harmless, and he had an inkling the brunette knew that, too. It was like the human equivalent of puppy dog eyes.

"Can you please put these flowers in a small vase and put it in his office?" Sasuke asked, handing over the large bouquet that he had spent the last half hour picking in the garden.

Amusement brimmed in the brunette's eyes. "I think that's a fantastic idea, Sasuke," he chirped.

Sasuke eyed him suspiciously. Why did Neji just exchange glances with Naruto? And why did it look like the two of them were partaking in a silent joke?