Vurt Ninjas 11
In which it is all. about. Sasuke. Just in case you forgot.
(I like to think the song that was playing on the radio while they're in the car was "Sympathy for the Devil," but that's just me.)
Their parents had been cremated two days ago; arranging for the funeral had taken three.
Sasuke had tried to run away the first night, but had been caught by one of the 'concerned friends' of Itachi that he'd spotted around their house and brought back. He hadn't eaten anything in the house in the last five days--when Itachi put the food on the table and began to eat, Sasuke stared at it until his half-brother finished his own and left again. The only water he'd drunk was handfuls straight from one of the shower heads, because he thought it would be harder to put some kind of poison in the shower pipes than in the sink ones. He'd been buying food from vending machines on the way to school, but yesterday Itachi had cleared all the change out of the house, and Sasuke hadn't been able to find any money anywhere.
One of the girls in his class had given him some of her lunch when his stomach had growled all through the first half of the day and he said he'd forgotten his at home, but it had been a long time between then and now. He stared at the full plate in front of him, hands clenched into fists in his lap underneath the table. Itachi's was already half empty.
Itachi finished his tea, then set the glass down and stared at Sasuke across the table.
"You can't read thoughts," he said quietly, the first time he'd spoken to Sasuke since the last relative had left the house after the funeral. Sasuke tensed, and didn't look up from the plate.
"You can't manipulate others' shadows," Itachi continued, watching him. "You have to cross-dress to be seen in public. You're a burden to me without having any benefits. What good are you?"
Sasuke tried to think of something--anything--that his brother considered of value. He clenched his fists tighter, and then hissed when he broke the skin of his palm.
The clock in the kitchen ticked off seconds that slowly turned to minutes, and finally Sasuke said, "I can keep my mouth shut."
Itachi stared at him for a while, and then chuckled once. Sasuke didn't dare look up.
He jumped when Itachi pushed his own half-finished plate over to Sasuke's side. The teenager stood, cleared away Sasuke's plate and glass, and then took them to the kitchen.
Itachi came back a few moments later, with a new glass of soda. He set it at Sasuke's elbow, and then sat back down in his chair. Sasuke had been tearing through the food, but hesitated at the glass; he looked up at Itachi, at a point just below the teenager's eyes. Itachi stared back impassively.
Sasuke finished the rest of the meal, and finally made himself drink the soda. He wound up almost draining the glass, because he was thirsty and it didn't taste weird enough to stop. His brother left the dining room soon after, shutting himself in his room like usual; Sasuke wandered through the house, waiting to feel sick. A few hours later, he finally crawled into bed.
He was still alive when he woke up the next morning. Sasuke lay on his side, staring at the wall that separated his room from Itachi's, and realized this would be the rest of his life.
~
Sakura had grown a lot quieter over the last few days, distracted by debating something, though she wouldn't decide until this evening. Naruto hadn't noticed, because he'd been going to work and coming back growling under his breath. He didn't talk to Jiraiya unless he had to, which with as long as he'd worked there, was very little; the older man had told Kabuto to come by with his deliveries earlier in the day, before Naruto arrived. Sasuke hadn't noticed either, because he was busy rearranging his sleeping schedule and distracted by his own life.
Though Sasuke couldn't read thoughts, he could sense emotions. So he knew that Sakura was preoccupied by something that upset her, but wrote it off as what they'd learned from Jiraiya and Tsunade, since the feelings had started from that day.
I mention this only because he would have done something, if he had known.
Sasuke had only napped when he returned from the club yesterday; Sakura had only had a half-day of work, and came back to find him already awake.
When Naruto came back from Jiraiya's, grim-faced as usual, Sasuke said he'd called in sick for the evening; Sakura said they should go to the movies. Naruto cheered up enough to ask if they could sit in the back row.
The next morning, Naruto had already left for work when Sakura discovered the package of red bean and mochi cakes hidden behind several condiment jars on the top shelf.
"Oooh . . . Sasuke! Are these yours?" she called towards the bedroom.
He came out a few moments later, looking to see what she was talking about, and she was a little surprised to see him dressed in slacks and a dark button-down shirt rather than his usual jeans. "Yes."
"Can I have one?"
"No," Sasuke replied. "They're grave offerings."
". . . oh," she said quietly, and started to put them back in the fridge. Sasuke reached out and took the package.
"I'm going out," he said, back to her as he reached for his coat. "I don't know if I'll be back before dinner or not."
"Who--" but he closed the door behind him before she got any further.
Sasuke hated buses because of the way the passengers stared at him, so he walked until he was out of the residential area and flagged a cab. He gave the driver--a half-pure, half-robo--directions to a cemetery in a better part of town, much closer to the center, and then set the package on the seat beside him and stared out the window until they arrived.
Sasuke cradled the package in the crook of one elbow while paying, and then slid his wallet back into his coat and waited for the cab to drive off before making his way into the cemetery.
His father and step-mother's grave was over a low hill, shielding it from most of the view and sound of the traffic. Sasuke made his way there slowly; Itachi was already waiting.
"You're late," he said.
"I hate cleaning it," Sasuke answered, setting the package on the edge of the already-washed monument. "You know that."
"Selfish," Itachi replied, rolling down his sleeves. "The lighter's over there."
Itachi returned the cleaning supplies he'd brought to his car, while Sasuke lit a stick of incense and put it beside the two the older man had already left there. He didn't pray, or go through the motions; instead he just remained crouched in front of the stone while the incense burned, arms resting on his thighs.
He heard Itachi coming up behind him again, and Sasuke had to concentrate on the fact that he could hear the sound of shoes on grass to keep from reaching for a weapons pack that wasn't there.
"Where do you want to have lunch?" Itachi asked as he stood.
Sasuke shrugged a shoulder as he turned and began following him back to the car.
"You're more reticent than usual," Itachi commented, when they were halfway through the cemetery. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Sasuke said.
Itachi didn't ask further; he didn't particularly care, and he had his own concerns to occupy his thoughts. He'd had to reschedule a meeting to be here today, and if a competitor got a vendor to them in the time he was gone, it would hamper his plans badly. He was trying to avoid relying on Akatsuki these days, before their claims on him became too much to be paid back.
There was a small sushi restaurant a dozen blocks away, with two private rooms in the back that weren't excessively more expensive; it was where they usually ate annually. When Itachi took a left at the second light, Sasuke knew he was heading there. He turned on the radio, and then stared out the window.
When they were still five blocks away, sitting at a red light, he finally made himself speak.
"Itachi?"
The older man made a wordless 'what?' reply.
"Do you kn--have you heard of someone called Orochimaru?"
Itachi was silent.
Sasuke waited several unbearable seconds, and then glanced halfway over.
Itachi's knuckles were white against the gear shift. Sasuke looked back out the window, shifting a little further away.
When the light turned green, Itachi made a right rather than continuing forward. A few moments later, he turned off the radio.
Half a minute after that, he asked in a flat, soft voice, "What the fuck have you done?"
The one Akatsuki member that Itachi trusted--by which he knew the man would stab him in the front, rather than the back--ran a moderately-sized and relatively exclusive restaurant and bar, a little more famous for the giant aquarium set along one whole wall than for the quality of the food. (Kisame had complained to him once that it was impossible to find a three-star cook who also knew how and when to shut the hell up. Itachi had lacked sympathy.) Itachi drove himself and Sasuke there, informed Kisame that he needed the whole upstairs room, a silver feather and a feather translator device, and gave the man fifteen minutes to get both.
Kisame had rolled his eyes once his back was to them, but had the upstairs room cleared in ten. He told Itachi to go on up, because Sasuke was skulking in one of the corners and not entirely avoiding the other customers' second glances, and said he'd have the silver and FTD to him in another minute.
Itachi ordered lunch for himself and Sasuke when Kisame brought the equipment; by the time the other man returned with the appetizers twelve minutes later, Itachi was settled back in an armchair and busy working on the feather. He didn't waste time recognizing Kisame again.
Sasuke was slumped in the couch perpendicular to the chair, with one arm stretched over the back and a foot braced on the edge of the table that his and Itachi's seats were grouped around. His coat was tossed on the far side of the couch.
Kisame was one of those people who knew that the other half of the quote was "To thine own self be true, and it must follow thou cannot then be false to any man," and therefore cheerfully told himself that Itachi's sister wasn't much of a girl. Somebody really needed to sell her on makeup and padded bras--the waitress who got the most tips swore by them, and Kisame figured she would know.
He did acknowledge that Sasuke was watching him out of the corner of his eyes, though, as he set the plate of vegetable tempura on the table.
"Did you want something else?" Kisame asked with a raised eyebrow, when Sasuke had watched him the whole time. Sasuke finally looked away.
"No," Itachi replied, before the younger man could say anything. He was still focused on the FTD, despite the incisive tone of his voice. "He thinks you should be a shark."
There was a faint sound of nails scraping cloth as the hand that Sasuke had resting on the back of the couch curled into a fist. Kisame looked at Itachi, then at Sasuke, and then decided that this was a family matter and he didn't want to know.
"You're living with a woman?" Itachi noted a few minutes after Kisame closed the door behind him.
"She's Naruto's girlfriend, not mine," Sasuke replied to the wall he was staring at.
Itachi raised an eyebrow and actually looked up from the screen for a moment. "And she's staying in your apartment? I expected more self-respect from you."
"She's a decent cook and keeps up her share of the rent," he replied tensely. "I don't care."
"Hm," Itachi replied, looking back at the screen. "Dogs must live up to their reputation, if he's gotten that kind of concession out of you. . . ."
"You'll never meet him," Sasuke snarled at him, and then clenched his jaw violently and glared at the wall again.
Itachi gave him a sidelong glance without looking up from the screen, but said nothing further.
He soon came across Sakura's medical school records, which indicated that she had dropped out with two years to go, despite the fact she'd had excellent scores on the practice National Medical License exams. Itachi made a note of that, and didn't mention it to Sasuke.
Several hours later, Itachi was finished storing information on the silver. He'd expected it to take a long time to transfer all the data he and the other Akatsuki had collected on Orochimaru without using the Vurt so much that it alerted the Game Cat, but it was already late afternoon. Kisame had cleared away the half-eaten beef sukiyaki long ago, so Itachi finished up with the translator, and then drained his cold tea and went downstairs to tell Kisame to make some egg rolls to go for him.
Sasuke had fallen asleep on the couch. Itachi shut the door loudly behind him, and noted the abrupt and distracted way Sasuke jerked awake.
"Read this here," he said, setting the translator and the silver on the table. "I'm leaving."
Sasuke sat on the edge of the couch, rubbing a hand through his hair and not looking up. Itachi didn't bother waiting for him to speak before he left.
~
Naruto was already back from work by the time Sasuke returned. He looked at his watch as Sakura and Naruto distangled themselves from where they'd been on the couch, and then set the FTD and the small packet Kisame had given him to hold the silver on the table and went over to the phone.
"At least say 'I'm home,' geez," he heard Naruto say as he made his way over to the table while Sasuke was dialing the club. He pulled out a chair and sat down heavily in it. "Where've you been?"
"A feather translator?" Sakura added, as she sat down in Naruto's lap. She leaned across the table and opened the device; Naruto wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. "Where'd you get this?"
"Itachi," Sasuke replied.
The manager on the other end of the phone picked up; Sasuke didn't turn to face the absolute silence behind him as he informed the man that he was still dying but he'd be in tomorrow night.
Sasuke hung up several moments later, while the manager was still in the process of threatening to fire him. He gazed at the phone for a few more seconds, and then finally turned around and sat down in the nearest chair. Naruto and Sakura were staring at him.
Sasuke opened the packet and tipped the silver feather onto the tabletop. "This is everything he was able to tell me about Orochimaru," he said, reaching for the device and concentrating on starting it up. "The FTD is so we don't have to use the Vurt more than necessary, to keep him or other people from learning that we have this."
After he'd slid the feather in and opened it up so that the information filled the screen, he turned the machine to face Naruto and Sakura again. They were still watching him.
"You really have. . . ?" Naruto asked quietly.
"Yes," Sasuke replied, folding his hands in front of his mouth in a too-familiar gesture that didn't belong to his real self. Sakura looked away, and then at the screen.
"Jiraiya told us everything," Naruto continued, still quiet. "You didn't have to . . . that man. . . . ."
"No," Sasuke replied, and he wanted to look in Naruto's eyes as he spoke but he couldn't. "Did he tell you that Orochimaru's name used to be Yashagoro?"
"What?" Naruto gave him a half-confused, half-disbelieving look. "What's--who cares?"
"That's what Orochimaru was called when he and Jiraiya created those feathers." Sasuke gestured to the feather translator with a shoulder. "In the end, all the evidence fell on Yashagoro; some poor bastard with that name's in jail, while Jiraiya's still making feathers and Orochimaru's still free. They've both covered up whatever part Tsunade had in it."
Sasuke had continued to stare at the device as he explained. He'd pulled his hands away from his face when he'd recognized the gesture he was making.
"Naruto, that hurts," Sakura whispered a minute later, just loud enough to be heard over his low growling.
Naruto pulled the arm that he'd had around her waist away. Sakura rubbed her side surreptitiously where his fingers had been digging in.
"I'll kill him," he barked.
"Don't be stupid," Sasuke replied, "you can't kill people."
Naruto's answer was only more growling.
"Sakura, can you get me some water?" Sasuke asked, reaching for the device again and beginning to move through the data.
She gave him a grateful look and quickly slid off Naruto's lap. She managed to get a hold of herself once she was out of arm's reach, and walked normally to the cabinet; but Naruto had already caught on. He flexed his hands in and out of fists, trying to calm down.
"Dammit," he bit off, glaring at the floor, the table, the counter, and everywhere that Sakura and Sasuke weren't. "Damn it. Fuck this! The next time I see Kabuto--"
"Buy another Konoha from him," Sasuke replied.
"What?"
"I'm going to keep playing," Sasuke said, shifting the glass Sakura had set beside him a little further from the translator. "I don't want to play it without you. Two."
That, from Sasuke, was strange enough to send Naruto into a state of calm mostly due to confusion. Sakura leaned against the counter, because the third chair at the table was on Naruto's side, head slightly tilted and frowning. (The fourth still hadn't been repaired yet; they'd just pulled it away from the table and up against the wall.)
Naruto stared at him, uncomprehending. "Why the hell. . . ?"
Sasuke's hands paused over the translator, and he hesitated. Then he reached for the glass.
He'd drunk almost half of the water before he was able to set it down and speak.
"He's my half-brother," Sasuke told them, toying uneasily with the glass. "His mother was the legitimate wife. But she raised me like. . . . They were killed in a car. Accident. When I was little. Itachi took the inheritance and did something with stocks . . . he had a group cover the paperwork for him until he was of age. He ke--gives me a monthly allowance. He paid for the car."
Sasuke's hand stopped shifting along the sides of the glass, fingers tightening briefly, before he made himself relax them again. Sakura hesitated, and then moved to kneel on the floor beside the table, resting her arms on the top, near him but not touching. Naruto had clenched one hand around his fist.
". . . We were never close," Sasuke added quietly. "But I never used to hate him like this." His hand pulled away from the glass. "I want to know why."
Naruto studied his face for a little while longer, and finally slumped back in his chair. He let his hands drop between where his legs were splayed out, hand still clutching the fist.
"Fuck," he muttered, glaring at the floor.
". . . I'm sorry," he added a moment later, much quieter.
"It's not your fault," Sasuke replied, wiping the water that had condensed on the glass off on his sleeve and moving to open one of the files.
"I bought the fucking thing in the--"
"You didn't know," Sakura interjected, soothing. She reached across the table, palm up. "I remember, you told us it was safe. We wanted to play."
She was lying a little, but Sasuke didn't contradict her. Naruto looked down again. "I'm sorry."
"Stupid," Sasuke replied, "she just said we wanted to play too."
"Don't call me stupid," he retorted.
"Stupid."
"Jackass."
"Boys." Sakura glanced upward, turning her hand to tap her fingers on table. She tilted her head enough to catch Naruto's gaze. "I want to keep playing too, okay? So buy another one from--from Kabuto?"
Naruto gave her a worried look. "But, if--"
"Please," Sakura interrupted, rolling her eyes. "It's not like my character's ever gotten into any trouble."
"But what if later--"
"She's an airhead," Sakura responded, giving him a mostly successful attempt at an amused look. "Airheads don't get into ninja fights. And nobody's bothered me in reality, either."
She didn't mention what Shizune had told her before firing her, about the guy who'd been asking questions. She doubted it would help how things were going.
Finally, Naruto exhaled heavily and looked over at Sasuke. The other man was watching them; he'd folded his arms on the table. Naruto looked back at Sakura, and then took her hand and squeezed it slightly.
"Kabuto's coming in at weird hours," he said at last. "I don't see him anymore. It'll take a while."
"That's fine," Sasuke replied.
Famous last words.
(I like to think the song that was playing on the radio while they're in the car was "Sympathy for the Devil," but that's just me.)
Their parents had been cremated two days ago; arranging for the funeral had taken three.
Sasuke had tried to run away the first night, but had been caught by one of the 'concerned friends' of Itachi that he'd spotted around their house and brought back. He hadn't eaten anything in the house in the last five days--when Itachi put the food on the table and began to eat, Sasuke stared at it until his half-brother finished his own and left again. The only water he'd drunk was handfuls straight from one of the shower heads, because he thought it would be harder to put some kind of poison in the shower pipes than in the sink ones. He'd been buying food from vending machines on the way to school, but yesterday Itachi had cleared all the change out of the house, and Sasuke hadn't been able to find any money anywhere.
One of the girls in his class had given him some of her lunch when his stomach had growled all through the first half of the day and he said he'd forgotten his at home, but it had been a long time between then and now. He stared at the full plate in front of him, hands clenched into fists in his lap underneath the table. Itachi's was already half empty.
Itachi finished his tea, then set the glass down and stared at Sasuke across the table.
"You can't read thoughts," he said quietly, the first time he'd spoken to Sasuke since the last relative had left the house after the funeral. Sasuke tensed, and didn't look up from the plate.
"You can't manipulate others' shadows," Itachi continued, watching him. "You have to cross-dress to be seen in public. You're a burden to me without having any benefits. What good are you?"
Sasuke tried to think of something--anything--that his brother considered of value. He clenched his fists tighter, and then hissed when he broke the skin of his palm.
The clock in the kitchen ticked off seconds that slowly turned to minutes, and finally Sasuke said, "I can keep my mouth shut."
Itachi stared at him for a while, and then chuckled once. Sasuke didn't dare look up.
He jumped when Itachi pushed his own half-finished plate over to Sasuke's side. The teenager stood, cleared away Sasuke's plate and glass, and then took them to the kitchen.
Itachi came back a few moments later, with a new glass of soda. He set it at Sasuke's elbow, and then sat back down in his chair. Sasuke had been tearing through the food, but hesitated at the glass; he looked up at Itachi, at a point just below the teenager's eyes. Itachi stared back impassively.
Sasuke finished the rest of the meal, and finally made himself drink the soda. He wound up almost draining the glass, because he was thirsty and it didn't taste weird enough to stop. His brother left the dining room soon after, shutting himself in his room like usual; Sasuke wandered through the house, waiting to feel sick. A few hours later, he finally crawled into bed.
He was still alive when he woke up the next morning. Sasuke lay on his side, staring at the wall that separated his room from Itachi's, and realized this would be the rest of his life.
~
Sakura had grown a lot quieter over the last few days, distracted by debating something, though she wouldn't decide until this evening. Naruto hadn't noticed, because he'd been going to work and coming back growling under his breath. He didn't talk to Jiraiya unless he had to, which with as long as he'd worked there, was very little; the older man had told Kabuto to come by with his deliveries earlier in the day, before Naruto arrived. Sasuke hadn't noticed either, because he was busy rearranging his sleeping schedule and distracted by his own life.
Though Sasuke couldn't read thoughts, he could sense emotions. So he knew that Sakura was preoccupied by something that upset her, but wrote it off as what they'd learned from Jiraiya and Tsunade, since the feelings had started from that day.
I mention this only because he would have done something, if he had known.
Sasuke had only napped when he returned from the club yesterday; Sakura had only had a half-day of work, and came back to find him already awake.
When Naruto came back from Jiraiya's, grim-faced as usual, Sasuke said he'd called in sick for the evening; Sakura said they should go to the movies. Naruto cheered up enough to ask if they could sit in the back row.
The next morning, Naruto had already left for work when Sakura discovered the package of red bean and mochi cakes hidden behind several condiment jars on the top shelf.
"Oooh . . . Sasuke! Are these yours?" she called towards the bedroom.
He came out a few moments later, looking to see what she was talking about, and she was a little surprised to see him dressed in slacks and a dark button-down shirt rather than his usual jeans. "Yes."
"Can I have one?"
"No," Sasuke replied. "They're grave offerings."
". . . oh," she said quietly, and started to put them back in the fridge. Sasuke reached out and took the package.
"I'm going out," he said, back to her as he reached for his coat. "I don't know if I'll be back before dinner or not."
"Who--" but he closed the door behind him before she got any further.
Sasuke hated buses because of the way the passengers stared at him, so he walked until he was out of the residential area and flagged a cab. He gave the driver--a half-pure, half-robo--directions to a cemetery in a better part of town, much closer to the center, and then set the package on the seat beside him and stared out the window until they arrived.
Sasuke cradled the package in the crook of one elbow while paying, and then slid his wallet back into his coat and waited for the cab to drive off before making his way into the cemetery.
His father and step-mother's grave was over a low hill, shielding it from most of the view and sound of the traffic. Sasuke made his way there slowly; Itachi was already waiting.
"You're late," he said.
"I hate cleaning it," Sasuke answered, setting the package on the edge of the already-washed monument. "You know that."
"Selfish," Itachi replied, rolling down his sleeves. "The lighter's over there."
Itachi returned the cleaning supplies he'd brought to his car, while Sasuke lit a stick of incense and put it beside the two the older man had already left there. He didn't pray, or go through the motions; instead he just remained crouched in front of the stone while the incense burned, arms resting on his thighs.
He heard Itachi coming up behind him again, and Sasuke had to concentrate on the fact that he could hear the sound of shoes on grass to keep from reaching for a weapons pack that wasn't there.
"Where do you want to have lunch?" Itachi asked as he stood.
Sasuke shrugged a shoulder as he turned and began following him back to the car.
"You're more reticent than usual," Itachi commented, when they were halfway through the cemetery. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Sasuke said.
Itachi didn't ask further; he didn't particularly care, and he had his own concerns to occupy his thoughts. He'd had to reschedule a meeting to be here today, and if a competitor got a vendor to them in the time he was gone, it would hamper his plans badly. He was trying to avoid relying on Akatsuki these days, before their claims on him became too much to be paid back.
There was a small sushi restaurant a dozen blocks away, with two private rooms in the back that weren't excessively more expensive; it was where they usually ate annually. When Itachi took a left at the second light, Sasuke knew he was heading there. He turned on the radio, and then stared out the window.
When they were still five blocks away, sitting at a red light, he finally made himself speak.
"Itachi?"
The older man made a wordless 'what?' reply.
"Do you kn--have you heard of someone called Orochimaru?"
Itachi was silent.
Sasuke waited several unbearable seconds, and then glanced halfway over.
Itachi's knuckles were white against the gear shift. Sasuke looked back out the window, shifting a little further away.
When the light turned green, Itachi made a right rather than continuing forward. A few moments later, he turned off the radio.
Half a minute after that, he asked in a flat, soft voice, "What the fuck have you done?"
The one Akatsuki member that Itachi trusted--by which he knew the man would stab him in the front, rather than the back--ran a moderately-sized and relatively exclusive restaurant and bar, a little more famous for the giant aquarium set along one whole wall than for the quality of the food. (Kisame had complained to him once that it was impossible to find a three-star cook who also knew how and when to shut the hell up. Itachi had lacked sympathy.) Itachi drove himself and Sasuke there, informed Kisame that he needed the whole upstairs room, a silver feather and a feather translator device, and gave the man fifteen minutes to get both.
Kisame had rolled his eyes once his back was to them, but had the upstairs room cleared in ten. He told Itachi to go on up, because Sasuke was skulking in one of the corners and not entirely avoiding the other customers' second glances, and said he'd have the silver and FTD to him in another minute.
Itachi ordered lunch for himself and Sasuke when Kisame brought the equipment; by the time the other man returned with the appetizers twelve minutes later, Itachi was settled back in an armchair and busy working on the feather. He didn't waste time recognizing Kisame again.
Sasuke was slumped in the couch perpendicular to the chair, with one arm stretched over the back and a foot braced on the edge of the table that his and Itachi's seats were grouped around. His coat was tossed on the far side of the couch.
Kisame was one of those people who knew that the other half of the quote was "To thine own self be true, and it must follow thou cannot then be false to any man," and therefore cheerfully told himself that Itachi's sister wasn't much of a girl. Somebody really needed to sell her on makeup and padded bras--the waitress who got the most tips swore by them, and Kisame figured she would know.
He did acknowledge that Sasuke was watching him out of the corner of his eyes, though, as he set the plate of vegetable tempura on the table.
"Did you want something else?" Kisame asked with a raised eyebrow, when Sasuke had watched him the whole time. Sasuke finally looked away.
"No," Itachi replied, before the younger man could say anything. He was still focused on the FTD, despite the incisive tone of his voice. "He thinks you should be a shark."
There was a faint sound of nails scraping cloth as the hand that Sasuke had resting on the back of the couch curled into a fist. Kisame looked at Itachi, then at Sasuke, and then decided that this was a family matter and he didn't want to know.
"You're living with a woman?" Itachi noted a few minutes after Kisame closed the door behind him.
"She's Naruto's girlfriend, not mine," Sasuke replied to the wall he was staring at.
Itachi raised an eyebrow and actually looked up from the screen for a moment. "And she's staying in your apartment? I expected more self-respect from you."
"She's a decent cook and keeps up her share of the rent," he replied tensely. "I don't care."
"Hm," Itachi replied, looking back at the screen. "Dogs must live up to their reputation, if he's gotten that kind of concession out of you. . . ."
"You'll never meet him," Sasuke snarled at him, and then clenched his jaw violently and glared at the wall again.
Itachi gave him a sidelong glance without looking up from the screen, but said nothing further.
He soon came across Sakura's medical school records, which indicated that she had dropped out with two years to go, despite the fact she'd had excellent scores on the practice National Medical License exams. Itachi made a note of that, and didn't mention it to Sasuke.
Several hours later, Itachi was finished storing information on the silver. He'd expected it to take a long time to transfer all the data he and the other Akatsuki had collected on Orochimaru without using the Vurt so much that it alerted the Game Cat, but it was already late afternoon. Kisame had cleared away the half-eaten beef sukiyaki long ago, so Itachi finished up with the translator, and then drained his cold tea and went downstairs to tell Kisame to make some egg rolls to go for him.
Sasuke had fallen asleep on the couch. Itachi shut the door loudly behind him, and noted the abrupt and distracted way Sasuke jerked awake.
"Read this here," he said, setting the translator and the silver on the table. "I'm leaving."
Sasuke sat on the edge of the couch, rubbing a hand through his hair and not looking up. Itachi didn't bother waiting for him to speak before he left.
~
Naruto was already back from work by the time Sasuke returned. He looked at his watch as Sakura and Naruto distangled themselves from where they'd been on the couch, and then set the FTD and the small packet Kisame had given him to hold the silver on the table and went over to the phone.
"At least say 'I'm home,' geez," he heard Naruto say as he made his way over to the table while Sasuke was dialing the club. He pulled out a chair and sat down heavily in it. "Where've you been?"
"A feather translator?" Sakura added, as she sat down in Naruto's lap. She leaned across the table and opened the device; Naruto wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. "Where'd you get this?"
"Itachi," Sasuke replied.
The manager on the other end of the phone picked up; Sasuke didn't turn to face the absolute silence behind him as he informed the man that he was still dying but he'd be in tomorrow night.
Sasuke hung up several moments later, while the manager was still in the process of threatening to fire him. He gazed at the phone for a few more seconds, and then finally turned around and sat down in the nearest chair. Naruto and Sakura were staring at him.
Sasuke opened the packet and tipped the silver feather onto the tabletop. "This is everything he was able to tell me about Orochimaru," he said, reaching for the device and concentrating on starting it up. "The FTD is so we don't have to use the Vurt more than necessary, to keep him or other people from learning that we have this."
After he'd slid the feather in and opened it up so that the information filled the screen, he turned the machine to face Naruto and Sakura again. They were still watching him.
"You really have. . . ?" Naruto asked quietly.
"Yes," Sasuke replied, folding his hands in front of his mouth in a too-familiar gesture that didn't belong to his real self. Sakura looked away, and then at the screen.
"Jiraiya told us everything," Naruto continued, still quiet. "You didn't have to . . . that man. . . . ."
"No," Sasuke replied, and he wanted to look in Naruto's eyes as he spoke but he couldn't. "Did he tell you that Orochimaru's name used to be Yashagoro?"
"What?" Naruto gave him a half-confused, half-disbelieving look. "What's--who cares?"
"That's what Orochimaru was called when he and Jiraiya created those feathers." Sasuke gestured to the feather translator with a shoulder. "In the end, all the evidence fell on Yashagoro; some poor bastard with that name's in jail, while Jiraiya's still making feathers and Orochimaru's still free. They've both covered up whatever part Tsunade had in it."
Sasuke had continued to stare at the device as he explained. He'd pulled his hands away from his face when he'd recognized the gesture he was making.
"Naruto, that hurts," Sakura whispered a minute later, just loud enough to be heard over his low growling.
Naruto pulled the arm that he'd had around her waist away. Sakura rubbed her side surreptitiously where his fingers had been digging in.
"I'll kill him," he barked.
"Don't be stupid," Sasuke replied, "you can't kill people."
Naruto's answer was only more growling.
"Sakura, can you get me some water?" Sasuke asked, reaching for the device again and beginning to move through the data.
She gave him a grateful look and quickly slid off Naruto's lap. She managed to get a hold of herself once she was out of arm's reach, and walked normally to the cabinet; but Naruto had already caught on. He flexed his hands in and out of fists, trying to calm down.
"Dammit," he bit off, glaring at the floor, the table, the counter, and everywhere that Sakura and Sasuke weren't. "Damn it. Fuck this! The next time I see Kabuto--"
"Buy another Konoha from him," Sasuke replied.
"What?"
"I'm going to keep playing," Sasuke said, shifting the glass Sakura had set beside him a little further from the translator. "I don't want to play it without you. Two."
That, from Sasuke, was strange enough to send Naruto into a state of calm mostly due to confusion. Sakura leaned against the counter, because the third chair at the table was on Naruto's side, head slightly tilted and frowning. (The fourth still hadn't been repaired yet; they'd just pulled it away from the table and up against the wall.)
Naruto stared at him, uncomprehending. "Why the hell. . . ?"
Sasuke's hands paused over the translator, and he hesitated. Then he reached for the glass.
He'd drunk almost half of the water before he was able to set it down and speak.
"He's my half-brother," Sasuke told them, toying uneasily with the glass. "His mother was the legitimate wife. But she raised me like. . . . They were killed in a car. Accident. When I was little. Itachi took the inheritance and did something with stocks . . . he had a group cover the paperwork for him until he was of age. He ke--gives me a monthly allowance. He paid for the car."
Sasuke's hand stopped shifting along the sides of the glass, fingers tightening briefly, before he made himself relax them again. Sakura hesitated, and then moved to kneel on the floor beside the table, resting her arms on the top, near him but not touching. Naruto had clenched one hand around his fist.
". . . We were never close," Sasuke added quietly. "But I never used to hate him like this." His hand pulled away from the glass. "I want to know why."
Naruto studied his face for a little while longer, and finally slumped back in his chair. He let his hands drop between where his legs were splayed out, hand still clutching the fist.
"Fuck," he muttered, glaring at the floor.
". . . I'm sorry," he added a moment later, much quieter.
"It's not your fault," Sasuke replied, wiping the water that had condensed on the glass off on his sleeve and moving to open one of the files.
"I bought the fucking thing in the--"
"You didn't know," Sakura interjected, soothing. She reached across the table, palm up. "I remember, you told us it was safe. We wanted to play."
She was lying a little, but Sasuke didn't contradict her. Naruto looked down again. "I'm sorry."
"Stupid," Sasuke replied, "she just said we wanted to play too."
"Don't call me stupid," he retorted.
"Stupid."
"Jackass."
"Boys." Sakura glanced upward, turning her hand to tap her fingers on table. She tilted her head enough to catch Naruto's gaze. "I want to keep playing too, okay? So buy another one from--from Kabuto?"
Naruto gave her a worried look. "But, if--"
"Please," Sakura interrupted, rolling her eyes. "It's not like my character's ever gotten into any trouble."
"But what if later--"
"She's an airhead," Sakura responded, giving him a mostly successful attempt at an amused look. "Airheads don't get into ninja fights. And nobody's bothered me in reality, either."
She didn't mention what Shizune had told her before firing her, about the guy who'd been asking questions. She doubted it would help how things were going.
Finally, Naruto exhaled heavily and looked over at Sasuke. The other man was watching them; he'd folded his arms on the table. Naruto looked back at Sakura, and then took her hand and squeezed it slightly.
"Kabuto's coming in at weird hours," he said at last. "I don't see him anymore. It'll take a while."
"That's fine," Sasuke replied.
Famous last words.