#no plot yet

Sasuke, naturally, made him stew for a minute or so, before agreeing, if only because he respects the other man. He also trusts him to a certain extent, at least in financial matters.

Neji has better business acumen than the entire Hyūga clan and company put together, yet might be passed over because of the family’s archaic inheritance laws. His cousin Hinata is technically supposed to inherit everything, being the oldest child of the family, but she has little talent when it comes to business. The whole reason for her being offered a position with the Uchiha family was to help her ease into things, but honestly, he thinks she’ll peak at the level of secretary.

Nothing against her character, she’s loyal and competent. But that’s about it.

Running a business requires a certain level of mettle and cool headedness that she doesn’t have.

And, of course, the ability to talk to people without fainting…

As he returns to his office, Sasuke glances at his watch, groaning when he sees that it’s only three o’clock. He’s meant to meet with Hatake Kakashi in an hour, but the man is constantly late, he likely won’t arrive until five.

Kakashi has been his mentor since Sasuke started working at the company after school as a teenager, and he has served as the right-hand man to both of Sasuke’s predecessors—his cousin Obito and, of course, his older brother Itachi. Kakashi even acted as Interim CEO before Sasuke took the reins, so it’s not as if Sasuke can simply cancel the meeting on him.

Maybe there’s something I can get started on for tomorrow, he thinks as he passes Sakura’s empty desk. He assumes she’s gone home or whatever she does after work. Didn’t she say something about night school?

He wonders at her ability to keep on top of everything during the day and then also be studying at night; he was consistently first in all of his post-secondary courses, but he hadn’t almost every second of it. When it wasn’t tedious, it was boring, and he slept through most of his MBA.

He somehow doubts Sakura will do the same, and then frowns at himself a second later for the direction of his thoughts. He gives his head a shake and tells himself it doesn’t matter as long as she shows up on time tomorrow for work, and doesn’t forget about the Oto files he asked her to get from Legal—

He pauses, catching sight of something on the immaculately organizes surface of her desk. A dozen neatly stacked grey folders, and printed summary on top.

“The Oto files,” he murmurs, bemused, picking one up, flipping it open, and then putting it back down on her desk with a scowl. “How the hell does she…?”

“Sasuke, stop loitering and get in here,” a voice interrupts his thoughts, and he won’t admit it, but he jumps.

Sitting in his office, Kakashi is watching him with amusement. Which makes no sense, because he shouldn’t be here for at least another two hours. And yet, he’s leaning back in a chair, straightening the white surgical mask across his face.

Kakashi is always sick with some cold or flu, thanks to his kids, so he always wears a mask around the office; Sasuke doesn’t think he’s ever seen him without it.  

“Did someone die?” Sasuke asks, stepping warily into his office. “Or is someone holding your family hostage?”

“What? No.”

“Then why are you here?” Sasuke asks. “You’re never on time.”

“Very funny,” his mentor grumbles, sounding put out and a little insulted. “I’m allowed to care about the direction of the company and want to use our time wisely.”

Sasuke ruminates on this, then narrows his eyes and says. “What’s she got on you?”

“Spoilers for the latest Icha Icha novel,” Kakashi admits gloomily.

Sasuke snorts, because at this point he’s not longer even surprised. Sakura did say she would ensure everyone adhered to her schedule and somehow—whether through coercion or some kind of witchcraft—she’s done just that.

Still, the fact that something so mundane is what snared Kakashi in the end is a bit pathetic.

“You are a pitiful portrait of a man and I feel ashamed just being in the same room as you,” he informs him.

“Then let’s do this fast so that I can go home and stop subjecting you to my questionable morals.”

うちは

“Ever hear the saying ‘to ere is human, but to really screw up you need some kind of technological entity’?” Kakashi asks around five hours later, breaking the silence and making Sasuke look up, bleary-eyed.

“No.”

“Yeah, me neither. And this wouldn’t be one of those cases,” the white-haired man sighs and leans back.

There are dozens of papers spread out between himself and Kakashi, both of their laptops open as they iron out budget allocations for the various branches of the company, evaluate resource demands across the departments, and offer last minute input on the company’s latest advertisement campaign.  

There is a sound like rattling from the doorway, and when they both glance up, Sasuke is surprised to see Sakura standing there, wheeling in one of the fancy tea carts they use during board meetings or when courting clients. On it is an assortment of sushi and shashimi, as well as a pot of tea.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, surprised. He thought she went home hours ago.

“Well, classes don’t start until next week,” she says, and he realises he said this out loud. “I’ve been in the file room all afternoon—and I’d love to meet the people who set up your system. Let me tell you, the Antikythera mechanism was probably easier to operate.”

Kakashi snorts. “You mean someone with your blackmail talents also has to file?”

“I know I make awesome look effortless, but there is a bit of prep,” Sakura sniffs, tossing her hair. Then she grins at them both and gestures to the cart. “But lucky for you two, the restaurant two blocks down does deliveries. So not too much effort.”

“I’m not hungry,” Sasuke says, turning back to his spreadsheets. “Eating slows me down.”

He pretends he doesn’t notice the way his stomach growls to belie that statement.

“That’s the beauty of finger food. You can eat it while you work,” Sakura says, and then points at several pieces of omusubi . “I even made sure to get your favourite. Tomatoes, and everything.”

He scowls at her. “If you’ve been talking to my mother again—”

“She’s talked to your mother?” Kakashi asks, only just changing his guffaw of amusement to a cough when Sasuke shoots him an annoyed glare.

“Ino, actually,” Sakura chirps. “She says you get cranky when you get hungry. And I figure, if what I’ve seen so far isn’t cranky, I don’t ever want to actually see cranky, so really, feeding you is probably a public service.”

She grins proudly, one hand on her hip. Kakashi raises an eyebrow, indicating that Sasuke that the metaphorical ball is now in his court.

He considers for a moment and shakes his head stubbornly. “Not now. We’re working.”

Kakashi sighs.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Sakura rolls her eyes. “It’s scientifically proven that working on an empty stomach increases your tendency to make mistakes.”

“That doesn’t happen to me.”

“Really? So that zero you left off the cost estimate for the Sarutobi Account was on purpose?” she asks, pointing at one of the papers to Sasuke’s left. “I didn’t realise your company had forty-five million yen just lying around.”

Sasuke’s eyes widen incrementally, but he refrains from snatching the paper to see if she’s right; Kakashi does that, though, picking it up and scanning through it. His face pales a little.

“She’s right,” he says. “We’ll have to reclacluate this before sending the official numbers out.” He smiles at Sakura beneath his match. “You’ve got a pretty good eye for a personal assistant. Are you sure you want to spend all your time with this one? I’m sure I can find someone more pleasant for you to work with.”

Sakura opens her mouth to speak, but Sasuke cuts her off. “We’ll eat now.”

He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make a major mistake in the company over a stupid matter of pride. But Kakashi observes him carefully as he reaches for a plate of food, spitefully taking all the tomatoes he can see.

Somewhat spitefully, Sasuke begin to eat, relaxing a little bit because, well, he was actually hungry

He notices eyes on him and glances up, Kakashi’s eyes comically wide, while Sakura is watching him with amusement and something oddly like exasperation.

“What?” he demands.

“Were you absent in playschool when they went over manners?” she chides him. “I just saved you a fortune and brought you dinner. Anything you want to say?”

She crosses her arms and looks at him in challenge. He notices for the first time that she has rather muscular forearms, which seems somewhat at odds with her otherwise delicate-looking self. And her knuckles are callused the way his were when he still trained routinely in martial arts. He wonders if she still practices—

“Sasuke-kun,” she prompts, soft but at the same time a prompt that demands an answer.

Kakashi’s mouth may be invisible to him, but from the way his eyes focus on Sasuke’s like lasers, he’s probably repeating the words ‘Sasuke-kun’ with incredulous mocking.

“Tch!” Sasuke frowns at her, and then says, “Thank you.”

And then looks away from her, a clear dismissal, as he takes another bite of food. Kakashi is gaping at him now, but he ignores that, too.

Still, he can’t help glancing back at her out of the corner of his eye.

Her challenging expression changes, and she beams with genuine warmth. “You’re welcome!”

Sasuke feels like he was just physically punched in the gut and as he breathes in sharply, inhales a large glob of sticky rice.

He begins to choke.

“Sasuke?!”

“Sasuke-kun!”

Sakura is already reaching for him, perhaps to clap him on the back, but he waves her off.

“It’s fine,” he says tightly. “Go home.”

“Alright,” she says slowly, hanging back. She offers him a last worried once-over, and then smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then flounces away.

Sasuke watches her go, not entirely sure what just happened, but fairly certain that something did.

He is brought back to himself with the sound of quiet chuckling.

“What?” he snaps at Kakashi.

“Nothing,” the older man says, in a voice that is miles from innocent. “I just suspect things are going to get very interesting around here.”

Sasuke scowls. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Hm…I don’t feel like telling,” Kakashi drawls. “More fun to watch you figure it out yourself.”

“I can fire you.”

“No, you can’t.”

つづく

I’m going to start getting plotty with this story after this chapter. I’ve finally got some ideas, it’s just going to take a while to outline. But I figure more stunned/clueless Sasuke can tide you over for a little while at least.

As always, reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated! Also, if you are in a supportive mood, you can find my tip jar here.

It was a windy morning—though from what Roxas had seen of San Francisco it was windy a lot of the time. Whether this was a normal weather phenomenon of not, it made the blonde shiver, fingers clenched around the soft sleeves of his sweater as if to trap the warmth radiating from his body. He paused a moment, staring out into the dense fog that was collecting over the bay. He had to admit, it was a beautiful sight; the moon was still in the sky, but the threat of dawn on the horizon had sent it cowering. Rolling hills invaded the fog in order to breathe some life into the desolate feeling of it all, as the little boats in the harbor bobbed in place, somehow retaining hope that they would one day be free despite the fact that they were tethered, and had been for quite some time due to the recent chill. The symbolism of all this wasn’t lost to Roxas, but he didn’t care. He’d come here for a reason, and he fully intended to act. With a shuddering sigh, the young man placed both hands on the railing and stepped onto the edge. It was now or never. He breathed in again—he was ready for this, he was positive, but somewhere inside of himself he was still scared. Hell, he was terrified. But then, who wasn’t afraid of death?

He was too lost in thought to realize that at some point he wasn’t alone anymore. Not until he was yanked out of his train of thought by the pleasant voice of a stranger—a stranger who had somehow ended up next to him on the Golden Gate Bridge at 3:30 in the morning.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Came an unexpected voice, warm and surprisingly soothing despite the fact that Roxas had no clue at all who was standing next to him. Naturally, he jumped a bit, spinning around in surprise to find himself face to face with the bony shoulder of a ridiculously tall, ridiculously good looking redhead. I should be afraid… He thought. Who would come out here at 3 in the morning by themselves unless they were up to no good? He was probably a rapist, he figured, or maybe a murderer. This man didn’t look normal—that was for sure. His shoulder length red hair was styled into spikes, jutting from his scalp every which way.—that color couldn’t possibly be natural. It was red, bright, bright, bright red. The hair seemed to be the least worrisome part of this newcomer, though. The most defining feature of this odd, albeit attractive man, was that he had two inverted teardrop tattoos just below each eye, perched on the very tops of his cheekbones so he was sure that, were the redhead to smile, they would crinkle cutely. I can’t be thinking this… I was busy and he… He interrupted… He probably wants to rape and kill me or something. For some reason, though, Roxas wasn’t all that frightened. Not much scares you when you came out to die in the first place.

“Do what?” Roxas snapped defensively. Unfazed, the man just shrugged. “You’re gonna jump, right?” The blonde watched him carefully as he turned toward the harbor, looking out into the fog. “It’s a long way down, kid. You’ll die, and it’ll hurt—a lot. And if by some miracle you did survive, the water’s fuckin’ freezing,” The man turned to look at Roxas now, and it was a look that made him shiver. Like he had X-Ray vision and was staring right into his soul. Like he knew. Roxas glared at the stranger.

“Who said I was going to jump? And what’s it matter to you, anyway?” He barked, the amount of acidity in his voice surprising even him. The stranger only chuckled warmly, digging in his coat pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, taking one into his mouth and lighting it up before sending a small puff of smoke straight into the glaring boy’s face.

“Believe me, kid. It was obvious. You were about to heave your little self over the railing and into the bay.” The man took another puff on his cigarette, this time taking care to blow it away from Roxas. How considerate. “What, did ya’ miss all the signs telling you to call a councilor?” That made the blonde absolutely livid.

“Why do you care anyway?” He spat, spinning himself so he was face to face with the lanky redhead. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? You don’t know me, what’s it to you if I die?” The redheaded man frowned, lips pressed in a hard line.

“I’m here now, so I’m part of this whole mess. If you die, it’ll be my fault.” He said, voice smooth and even, showing no hint of his obvious frustration. Very matter of fact, like he did this every day—though it probably wasn’t every day you came across someone just about to jump to their death off the Golden Gate Bridge.