The bridge I crossed
The Seventeenth
It was September when Tsunade strode in with a mug of coffee. She placed it in front of me, and took a seat across from me. "I wanted to talk to you about something," she said, not bothering with the preliminaries. I grunted, not really paying attention as I looked for one of the articles that had landed on my desk earlier that day, one of Lee's because he wanted a second opinion on. It had gotten lost in my own pile, which was spilling over with stories, all dealing with the upcoming elections.
I was pushing aside a folder when a stack of papers scattered onto the floor. "What is it now," I muttered, bending over to pick them up.
"How would you like to be national's editor?"
I jerked my head up so quickly, it made contact with the edge of the desk. "Ow--what?"
"You heard me, boy," Tsunade said, rolling her shoulders. "We'll give you a raise, of course."
"But, Lee--"
"We'll find someone new for him."
I was hoping to eventually land that job, but not so soon. Not after only a month of doing my job. "Isn't it kind of soon? I mean..." A newsroom's efficiency was heavily dependent on the respect editors had for one another, the respect writers had for editors. I was still brand new, by any measure of the word. Doing something as rash as--
"You've been taking on national's duties for so long the writers are actually starting to think that you're their main editor," Tsunade explained. She was smiling despite herself. "And besides, the senior editors all agree it's a good move. The two weeks you were in Jixi and worked on that section was a good debut for you."
"Really?" I felt a grin coming onto my face. Uzumaki Naruto, I said to myself in my mind: senior editor. "Uh, do I have to move?"
Tsunade raised an eyebrow archly. "Naturally. You'll get your own office. Couple doors down from Jiraiya."
"Does Lee--"
"I already talked to him," Tsunade said, getting up. "And also, half the staff already knows."
I grinned. "When do I move to my new office?"
Tsunade looked at her watch, and then matched my grin with one of her own. "Now."
*
Lee helped me pack up my belongings, unable to contain his happiness. He knew, apparently, all along. Tsunade had talked to him while on his honeymoon--and how typical it was for Tsunade to interrupt someone's honeymoon without a moment's thought--and he'd agreed to keep it a surprise until now. When I took my boxful of belongings and walked across the hall, through the cubicles and towards a door--with my name on it, I thought, grinning--a couple people clapped me on the back, congratulating me.
Shino, Kiba and Shizune came to help me get settled in, tutting over where I would put the picture of me and Iruka from my graduation party. Finally, I decided on placing it on my desk, where it had been sitting in my earlier space. It wasn't the most impressive office, the size of my small living room at best. But there was a window looking over a street and towards another building, and that was more than enough for me because I was in love now, with this job, with this paper.
Iruka was the first person I called, from my new phone, from my new desk, sitting in front of my new computer. "Umino," he mumbled into his phone.
"Iruka!" I practically yelled.
"Naruto." His voice brightened immediately. "Is everything--"
"I got a raise! I'm a senior editor now!"
He was silent, and then, "Say that again?"
"That's right, you heard me," I said, bursting at the seams now.
"Congratulations!" Iruka laughed over the phone. "So soon, too!"
"I know, right," I chortled, unable to control myself anymore. "I got my own office, Iruka, it's huge."
"Huge?" He didn't sound convinced.
"Well..." I looked around the room. "Way bigger than my cubicle."
Iruka chuckled into the phone. "I have class, Naruto."
"I know," I yelled. "And I have an office."
"I'm proud of you," he said, after a pause. "Very proud."
I felt something warm in my chest expand, too big for my body. "Yeah, well...Bye, Iruka."
"Bye, Naruto."
I cracked my knuckles, grinning still, and stared at the wide screen of my computer, the muted dark gray of the carpet, the sunlight streaming in from my window--and fell in love all over again.
*
Tsunade stormed in a week later, eyes blazing. She slapped a copy of the morning issue of Tokyo Daily on my desk, nearly knocking my coffee mug over, and pointed at a headline. "What is that?"
"Uh..." I stared at it. Above-fold, in bold, black letters there were the words: Yamamoto Inc. rejects Uchiha Corps 23.2 billion bid. I stared at it, and finally ventured, "What about it?"
"Where's our angle on it?" Tsunade snapped. She slapped another newspaper on my desk. The Daigaku Shinbun. Above-fold was entirely dominated by another issue: miscounted ballots in Oita prefecture, perhaps with connections to yakuza. It was a call I made last minute in layout last night, and I wasn't about to regret it. True Uchiha Corps' recent activity was big news, but there was an election cycle coming up. The Legislature was being built for another session, and above-fold was no space for an old story that had plagued the headlines for a week now. It was the same headline over and over again--Uchiha, Uchiha, Uchiha: Uchiha Corps bid, secretive talks, more bidding, speculating, and now the deal was off.
"Our angle on it is right there." I pointed with my pen. It wasn't even one of my articles, it was the business editor's job. So what was her problem--
"Below fold," Tsunade said, sitting down across from me. "A hundred words before a cut-off onto page A9."
I looked away from her piercing stare. "My writer found a tangible connection between yakuza and miscounted ballots after three weeks of investigation. Daigaku Shinbun has the scoop entirely to itself..."
"That's not the point, boy," Tsunade muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "You're so slow sometimes."
I felt my anger bubbling. I'd done a good job, and she was complaining about it? "The DA called me at home last night, saying that if my writer doesn't disclose sources about the yakuza case, I'll have a subpoena on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. And I have a meeting with the lawyers in--" I glanced at my watch. "Five minutes."
"Sit down," Tsunade snapped as I got to my feet. I glared at her but sullenly sat anyways. She took a deep breath, and then, "You're letting your personal life get in the way of your work."
"I'm not--"
"Shut up and don't interrupt." Tsunade paused for a moment, and then, "The Uchiha headline deserved more importance. You and I both know it. Not above-fold, I'll agree with you on that, but a hundred words on front page is ridiculous."
I shrugged, and took a sip of my coffee to avoid answering her immediately. It was petty, even I knew it. Bumping that story down to the bottom of the front page and barely giving it any importance was a stupid move. I was still a new senior editor so stupid moves were not going to be tolerated easily, especially because I was operating with little to no experience. "Depends on your point of--"
"No interruptions," Tsunade snapped again. "What ever happened between you and Sasuke, you need to forget and move on." I stared at my computer screen, watching as another emailed landed in my inbox, this one from Shizune, asking me about some article of mine.
Move on, Tsunade said, as if I wasn't trying hard enough as it was. What did she think I'd been doing all this time? I'd started working like a maniac, staying late, trying not to go home to that awful feeling of loneliness. I couldn't sleep, not without remembering how Sasuke had felt by my side, couldn't eat, not without remembering Sasuke's lazy gaze across his office table during our lunches, could barely stay awake. Not without imagining Sasuke's fingers on my cheeks, his lips on mine, branded and blistering still, two months after being touched.
A month ago, I'd told him I loved him, not even realizing the weight of a word like that. And here she was, telling me, move on forget, and all I could think of was, how? "--uto," Tsunade was saying.
"Sorry, what were you saying?" I looked at her, refocusing my gaze.
Her frown softened, and then after a moment, she said, "What happened, Naruto? Between you two?" When I didn't answer, she said, "You should take a few days off, deal with whatever--"
"I told him I loved him," I swallowed hard, trying not to make it sound too melodramatic. She was the first to know about it, and it was odd, confessing something like this to Tsunade of all the people in the world. "He looked surprised." I laughed at that, realizing that of all the reactions in the world, surprise was the last thing anyone would want to see.
Tsunade leaned over and placed a hand on mine, squeezing gently. I felt a lump crawling up my throat at the gesture. "He doesn't know how to deal with something like this, Naruto."
"He doesn't know what it is, Granny," I said, feeling bitter. "He didn't know."
"He'll come around," Tsunade said, soft still. "It'll take a while, maybe, but he'll come around. Maybe you should call him--"
As if on cue, my phone rang. I picked it up, "Uzumaki."
"Mr. Uzumaki, I'm calling down from legals about your appointment. I was wondering..."
"I'll be there in a minute." I hung up and glanced at Tsunade. "I should get going," I mumbled and stood up.
"Take a few days off, get th--"
"I'll mope," I interrupted, picking up my coffee mug and a file--a paper trail for the lawyers to go over--with my notes, my edits, my correspondence with the writer of the story. "I'd rather work. And besides, I need to take care of this mess."
Tsunade gave me a sharp, encouraging smile. "He'll come around," she repeated and stood as well. "If you drag this paper to court, Uzumaki, I'll have your--"
"I know, I know," I mumbled, and headed towards the door, Tsunade following close behind. "I'll take care of it." Tsunade let her hand fall heavily on my shoulder for a moment before turning and striding down the cubicles. I watched her as she made rounds, nodding now and then, barking orders and moving at a fast pace.
"He'll come around," I said with a dry laugh into my mug before taking a sip. "Like hell he will."
*
"That car," Kiba said a few days later, "Will be the Other Woman in his marriage. Mark my words."
He lounged lazily in the chair across from my desk, balancing a pencil between his lips. Lee chuckled, ducking his head. On his desk, there was a picture of Sakura, smiling, and he glanced at it for a moment. "So, Lee, how's Sakura?"
"Pregnant yet?" Kiba asked.
"Oh, shut up," I chided and looked to see if Lee was offended. Which, thankfully, he was not. But then again, I thought, he'd gotten used to Kiba's blunt remarks by now.
"I mean, look at the guy. He's a morning person, but these days, no such thing. Comes tired, but happy, goes home as early as possible, and from what I hear from flower lady down the corner, buys a bouquet every day," Kiba reasoned.
I sniggered, earning one of Lee's half-hearted glares. "I should get going," I said, waving the article I was holding in the air. I'd originally stepped out of my office to talk to Jiraiya, but then I saw Kiba and Lee lounging together and couldn't help but get distracted.
Kiba also stood as I got up. "Ditto, we got to interview some new artists," he said, stretching, and added a "see you at lunch" before leaving. I waved once at Lee and then turned around to head towards Jiraiya's office.
It was an important piece, follow-up to the yakuza story. It was still a first draft, but the sourcing was deplorable. Two--and only two-- top officials were quoted. No cross-referencing, nothing. For an accusation this big, it needed more work. I frowned at it, pulling out the pen I had stuck behind my ear and making another note in the corner while I walked. I found Jiraiya easily enough. He was chatting with Tsunade right outside the lounge, laughing about something. They both saw me coming at the same time. "Well?"
"No," I said, giving Jiraiya the article. He'd emailed it to me early this morning, saying we needed to get something on the story before we lost the track to someone else. "Just...no."
"It's not that bad, is it?" Tsunade took a sip of her coffee, and took the paper from Jiraiya's hands, skimming.
"Not enough. It's her interview notes at worst, first draft at best. I'm not going to okay this." Jiraiya raised an eyebrow at me, so I shook my head again. "Pressure me all you want, but this isn't going in my pages."
Jiraiya muttered under his breath--something about how me and Tsunade were exactly the same, and didn't he have enough to dealing with one of us?--and shoved the paper back into my hands. "But I want something--"
"I'll let you know when we have something," I said. "I'm not going to push my writer, not when she's handling the DA at the same time."
"And about that," Tsunade said, taking me by the elbow and leading me away towards her office. We walked through the cubicles, Tsunade not taking her eyes off the people working around her. "Your writer..."
"Won't give up her sources, and for good reason," I explained. We paused by her door. "She has the best network of all my writers, and if she looses credibility by giving up names, all her sources are going to bail."
"A subponea, though," Tsunade muttered, looking thoughtful. "She'll have to speak in front of a grand jury if she gets called up."
"I'll deal with it," I promised, running a hand through my hair. It was driving me up the walls, this issue. Maybe I was too new to handle something like this. Maybe I should give it over to Jiraiya, but that would mean--"I'll talk to legals again," I said, deciding. It was my problem. I'd deal with it. Tsunade looked pointedly at me and then tapped the face of her watch.
"Sometime this week, Naruto," she said.
"I'm going, Granny," I muttered. "I'm going, already."
"Don't call me--" Tsunade snapped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth. The irritation on her face disappeared almost instantly, her eyes focused on something over my shoulder. I rolled my eyes at her. Seventy years of life and still no manners. "Uchiha," Tsunade said, pushing me aside and walking past me. I turned around slowly, my heart thundering away just at hearing his name, and there he was, shaking Tsunade's hands, decked in his usual office attire. "And what do I owe this--"
I turned on my heels and headed towards my office, not bothering to stick around for the rest of the conversation. He was probably here for something related to business, something to do with the publishers, whatever it was--"Naruto," Tsunade's voice carried over the noise and chatter of the newsroom. She waited until most of the noise had died down around us, and then raising her voice even more, said, "Your boyfriend's here to see you!"
I rounded on her, seeing red. "He's not my boyfriend!" But she was already slipping into her office, shutting the door behind her. Sasuke considered me for a split-second before walking towards me, hands in his pockets.
"Naruto."
"What?" I said a little too loudly, taking a step back.
He raised an eyebrow at that. Then, "Your eyes are blue again."
"They changed back a few days after I came home. And stop looking at me like that." I gestured over my shoulder. "We're doing this in my office."
Sasuke shrugged, but didn't say anything when I started making my way through the cubicles across the hall. A few heads turned at the sight, but no one said anything. He was drawing unnecessary attention to us, to himself. He stood out like a sore thumb, towering over all the cubicles, looking utterly bored. And the next minute, we were inside my office, shutting the door behind us. "You told Tsunade you were my boyfriend?"
"No."
All my irritation faded instantly. "Oh."
I saw Sasuke take a breath, saw his shoulders move up and down at the movement, and as casually as he could muster, he asked, "You free for lunch?"
"I--what?"
Sasuke pursed his lips into a thin line. "Are you free. For lunch?"
I blinked once and then twice. "Are you coming around?" I asked dumbly. He stared at me, so I quickly corrected, "Yes. Yes. I'm free."
"Well." Sasuke took out his left hand from his pocket and pointed towards the door. "Shall we?"
I opened my mouth and then closed it again. "What--what time is it?"
"Time for lunch," Sasuke said, frowning. Then, "Twelve ten."
I ducked my head again, feeling a blush coming up. He was asking me out. He asked you out, a voice repeated in my head, giddy. "I need to um. Stay right here." I walked over to my desk, and picked up my phone, punching a now-familiar number. The phone rang once before someone answered. "Legals, this is Tanaka."
"Tanaka, it's me," I said, pushing aside papers until I could see my schedule. It was brimming with meetings with lawyers, Jiraiya and Tsunade. "Did the DA call?"
"No," Tanaka said, and then, "If that subpoena shows up on our desk tomorrow morning--"
"It won't," I said instantly. And it wouldn't. The DA was bluffing, I knew for a fact, because no matter how much he wanted those sources, he didn't want to go to the Supreme Court. "But you better have a game plan by the end of this night, Tanaka. I mean it."
"How about over lunch?"
"Um, actually..." I looked up at Sasuke, still waiting for me by the door, staring at me without any reserve. I blushed. "I'll see you in an hour." I heard Tanaka mutter an 'okay' into the phone, and then I hung up, writing a note to myself on a post-it before slapping it onto the side of my computer screen. "You should have called," I muttered, shrugging into my suit. "Now the entire office thinks we're dating."
"I don't have your number," Sasuke said, trying to sound casual. He took a few steps towards me and stopped at my desk. "You never gave it to me."
"You never asked," I snapped and sighed when the phone rang again. "Uzumaki."
"Your boyfriend there?" It was Jiraiya, sounding amused.
"He's not my boyfriend!" I snapped and hung up on his deep, gruff chuckles.
"What is it?" Sasuke said immediately. He had a Blackberry in hands.
"What? That? That was Jiraiya being stupid--"
"I meant your number," Sasuke said again, slowly. His cheeks were tinged pink. "So I can call you."
I gave it to him, and watched as he tapped away at his cell phone. Finally, he slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. "Everyone thinks we're dating now," I hissed at him. Sasuke held the door open for me and shut it behind him once we slipped out. "Where are we going?"
Sasuke looked at me for a second, but didn't answer. Finally, once we stepped into the elevators, he mumbled under his breath, "Ichiraku. For ramen."
And just like that, because he did something thoughtful for once, all my anger at him vanished into thin air. "You're paying, you know," I said, trying not to notice that Sasuke was standing a little closer than was necessary in an entirely empty elevator. He didn't say anything, and once the elevator doors opened, led me out of the building and towards the parking lot.
His car stood out, just as he had in the newsroom. It was the lamborghini, his favorite car out of the fleet he owned--I remembered him telling me about his cars, sounding fond and a little in love. And this was his favorite, he told me over lunch one day when he was feeling unusually talkative, the first one he bought after making the first ten million of his career. It was sleek gray and sitting low on the the ground. How did that giraffe even fit in there, I wondered, watching as he fished out his keys and pressed a button. The headlights flashed once.
Sasuke glanced at me once, and then awkwardly, opened the passenger side door for me. I stared at him, trying not to laugh. What did he think I was? A woman? He was still holding the door open, so I asked, "You've never dated a man before, have you?"
Sasuke flushed a deep shade of red, and then, slowly, he shook his head. I walked past him and settled down into the seats, soft as silk and almost hugging me. The inside of the car was all smooth curves, as effortless as water. The door shut behind me with a soft click, and then an instant later, Sasuke was folding himself into the driver's seat, still a little red in the face. "Here's a tip," I said, leaning towards him a little. "You don't need to hold doors open for me."
He gave me a sidelong glance but didn't say anything. We buckled up in silence, and then, the engine purred into life and Sasuke hit the peddle. "Do you--uh--" He took a sharp left into traffic. "Do you have to drive this fast?" Sasuke didn't say anything, only settled his right hand onto the hand rest when we stopped at a red traffic light. "Okay, both hands on the steering wheel," I said quickly. "Remember? Ten and two!" Sasuke inched forward past the line, impatient.
The light turned green, and then, we we were merging onto the high way, already at 60, cutting past another car, and dear god, I was going to die. "Sasuke."
"Stop freaking out, dead last," Sasuke muttered, and he must have hit the gas just to annoy me because now, we were weaving in and out of cars even faster. Sasuke took an exit and rolled off the high way, merging into downtown traffic again. Another turn--didn't he understand the concept of slow?--and then we were rolling to a stop in front of Ichiraku looking familiar and welcoming.
I sat in the car for a while longer, breathing deeply. "I'm driving on the way back."
Sasuke turned off the engine. "No you're not," he said, sounding protective. "Not this car."
I scoffed, and slid out of the car. He'd parked right in front of a sign that said Do not park with a picture of a tow truck on it. He glanced at it once but didn't so anything, just walked around the car and towards the entrance of the restaurant. I opened my mouth to say something, but then I spotted his license plate: UCHIHA. Of course he wouldn't get towed.
When he held open the door for me again, I smiled at him until he blushed and looked away. We sat down at the high stools, Sasuke pulling up his chair so it was a little closer to me, our elbows knocking. "Miso," I said, grinning. The man at the counter looked at Sasuke expectantly.
"Plain," Sasuke mumbled, petulant now. "And some scotch." The waiter stared at him. "Sake, then," Sasuke snapped.
"It's mid-day, Sasuke." I gave him a disapproving look. He drank too much for his age.
"If I'm with you, then I'll be needing it, Naruto," he said, sounding exasperated. The sake came, and he reached for it, pouring himself a cup.
"Okay, I might not be a woman, but some rules still apply," I snapped, jabbing him in the arm.
"Like?" He set his sake down and leveled his gaze at me.
"Like not insulting me," I hissed. "You're not going to get anywhere with that att--Ramen!" I smiled at the waiter and reached forward for my bowl, pulling it close with a dreamy sigh. "This is an awesome first date."
"Second," Sasuke corrected, digging in.
I paused, food mid-air and the noodles slid back into the bowl. He was talking about our time in Jixi. "You were engaged."
He stilled next to me, silent for a long time. "I'm not anymore."
I was about to say something when he reached forward for his sake again, a little abruptly. I slapped his hand away. "Do you always drink?"
"It's a habit," he snapped and moved towards it again. I pushed the sake out of his reach and looked at the waiter.
"Water," I said, and turned back to Sasuke. "Also, aren't you a little young to be developing drinking habits--"
"How old are you?" Sasuke said suddenly, distracting me, and leaned forward to get his hands around the sake bottle. We were in each other's space for a split-second, Sasuke's hair tickling my chin, and then he was drawing back again, tipping his cup.
"Twenty-two. You?"
"Twenty-three."
I turned back to my food, fighting down a blush. In Jixi, his engagement had hung heavily between us, weighing down each word we said to each other. But now, he was single, free again, and we fell right into a comfortable rhythm that I didn't even know we had between us. "When did you start drinking?"
"Sixteen," Sasuke said, thoughtful, and ignored the water the waiter put in front of him. "Fifteen, maybe."
I glared at him. No wonder he had a drinking habit. "You smoke?"
He looked at me, and then slowly nodded. "Occasionally. You?"
"No," I said, wrinkling my nose. The one time I'd picked up a cigarette, Iruka almost blew my eardrums out with his lecture. "I drink though. Not as much as you, but still..."
Sasuke smirked. "We all know what happens when you get drunk, dead last." He bent his head over his bowl, and took a bite. Around a mouthful, he said, "What was it again? Pet abuser?"
"Shut up." I elbowed him in the side, trying not to notice that somehow, we were sitting even closer together, the space between us almost non-existent. This was not how most first dates went. It was more like a fifth, sixth, maybe.
Sasuke reached over into my bowl and plucked a baby carrot from my ramen. Or maybe it was more like an old married couple, I thought, swatting at his hand when it came back for seconds. Sasuke swallowed, his adam's apple working up and down. What did that skin taste like there--I pried my eyes away from his neck and stared at him in the eye. He smirked, slow and easy, and murmured, "Well, it wasn't all bad."
I groaned into my bowl of food, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Then, just as I was taking a sip of water, Sasuke stole another baby carrot.
*
"So, then," Sasuke said, looking pained, "You have to switchgears--no!"
The car made a horrible, grating noise. It did not move. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. "So, do I have to press down on the--" I pressed down on the pedal and tried again. This time, the sound was not so loud, but the car started to whirr. "See?" I turned to grin at him.
He looked paler than usual, clutching his seat belt hard enough that his knuckles were white. "Naruto, this is a bad idea."
"Nonsense," I said, and stepped on the gas pedal. The car lurched backward.
"That's it," Sasuke said, unbuckling his seat belt. He leaned forward, his hand reaching for the key. I swatted at him, but he pushed forward, balancing one hand on the dashboard and filling up all the space in the car, hand reaching towards the keys--the car turned off with a whine.
"Fine," I muttered, unbuckling and getting out of the driver's seat. Sasuke got out as well and without another word, we switched sides.
We were silent for a while and then, a little hesitantly, just as he took a right onto the main street again, Sasuke offered, "Next time, I'll teach you."
I smiled, ducking my head so he couldn't catch the blush. Next time, he'd thrown it out a little too casually. Was that him asking me out for a second--third--date? I looked out the window, at the cars flashing by us. Or maybe he was just being himself, saying something to fill the space.
I was thinking too much. Kiba always said that about me. Even Wazuka said that at Jixi--I thought too much, afraid that I'd blunder, screw something up. At the back of my mind, a familiar voice added, Burn something down. "I'd like that," I said, watching Sasuke's reaction. He stilled, and then a moment later, gave me a quick glance before turning back to the road.
"In a parking lot," he elaborated. "Big, empty parking lot."
"Okay," I said, settling down to listen to his voice for a little while longer. He liked cars, I made a note in my head. He liked to drive fast, smoked sometimes, and he drank too much--I'd have to do something about that.
"Not in this car, though," Sasuke said after a while. "Another one..."
"Cheaper?"
Sasuke scoffed, wrinkling his nose. "I don't own cheap cars, dead last."
I laughed and was about to say something when Sasuke cut across two lanes sharply to get to an exit. I felt the blood drain from my face. "Next time, you drive slower."
"We'll see," he said, and stopped the car at a set of traffic lights.
"Next time..." I glanced at him, trying not to blush. "We can eat Chinese."
He didn't say anything, just turned the car into a familiar parking lot. The next moment, we were in the front parking circle of the Daigaku Shinbun building. We both sat still, staring forward for a moment, the engine's soft purr the only sound between us. I took a deep breath. "I--I had a good time," I said, pulling out the tackiest post-date lines that I could come up with. I made a note to kick myself later, but when Sasuke nodded and responded by clearing his throat--the most expressive thing that he would probably say in this kind of a situation--all my regrets vanished.
I touched his arm, lightly, wondering what else I could say, but finding no words, slipped out of the car. Sasuke didn't move the car until a moment later, but when he did, there was a screech of tires and then he was gone.
By the time I'd made it up to legals, the meeting had already started. Tsunade looked up, a small frown on her face, but when I smiled at her, she shook her head and turned her attention back to Tanaka. When I sat down, she leaned over a little and whispered in my ear, "Told you he'd come around."
I grinned, not looking at her, and opened up my notes. "--ruled in 1982 that the a journalist had the right to protect sources unless there was a clear and present danger to the public. The yakuza could be argued as--" Next time, he'd said, and I ducked my head, hiding a smile.
I spent the rest of the meeting ignoring Tanaka, doodling pictures of two stick figures riding a car, alone in a big, empty parking lot.
End of the Seventeenth