The bridge I crossed
The Eighteenth
I spent the next two weeks jumping every time a phone rang, whether it was my phone or someone else's. I felt silly so I spent an entire evening pacing around the kitchen and insulting myself with Shikamaru as earnest audience. Kiba had gone out with Hinata that evening, and we were, according to Kiba's frantic call a few minutes before meeting Hinata at the restaurant, supposed to wait at my place until he came back.
Shikamaru and I ate dinner at the small table in my kitchen--it could hold three people, and when I looked at the empty seat where Kiba usually sat, something hit me, square in the guts and made me blink slowly. "You look smarter all of a sudden," Shikamaru drawled helping himself to seconds. "This is good, by the way," he mumbled.
I sat back in my chair and stared at him. "Holy crap," I said slowly, "Next thing you know, you and Kiba will be married and with families and kids, and then who am I going to cook for?"
Shikamaru grinned at me. "My kids, my wife, Kiba, his wife, his kids. Oh, I almost forgot. Your boyfriend. Kids, maybe?"
I swatted at his hand when he reached over to take some of the food in my plate. "You'll drop it all over the place," I muttered and moved my plate across the table so he could slide it into his own.
"You know," Shikamaru said half an hour later in the living room. I handed him a beer can and sat down with one of my own, "I probably owe you several thousand for all the food you feed me."
"Yeah, but you drive me around."
"I'll continue to drive you around if Kiba brings it back in one piece tonight," Shikamaru grumbled.
I grinned. "You know, your car is not all that--"
"I saved all my money for an entire year to buy that BMW," Shikamaru snapped, sitting up straighter. "It's my--it's so!" He didn't finish his sentence, and he didn't need to. I was there when he saved the money, there when he bought it, there when he drove it for the first time.
"It's your Other Woman," I quoted. "Kiba thinks that your wife'll be jealous and drive it into the ocean."
"Oh? Does he now?" He sat up and shifted so that he could look at me more directly. In the background, the TV played the music to the nightly news reports.
Just as Shikamaru was about to say something, the door burst open, and Kiba, looking pristine in his suit--one that I had to iron last-minute with Kiba's desperate howls and Shikamaru's "I told you to get it done" remarks in the background. "Okay," he said closing the door behind him and coming to join me and Shikamaru. He snatched away my beer can and took one, long gulp from it before falling into the armchair in a heap.
"Okay?" I moved forward to take back my beer. "That's it?"
"Oh, please don't get him started," Shikamaru said, leaning his head back. "We'll be up all night."
Kiba scoffed. "Man she's gorgeous," he muttered. "I couldn't think of a single good sentence all night."
"She probably thought it was cute," I commented and patted him on the shoulder comfortingly.
"Cute? Since when did stupidity inspire adoration?" Shikamaru stretched and propped his legs up, wiggling his socked toes.
"Oh, stop it." I turned back to Kiba and raised an eyebrow, a prompt for him to continue.
"I mean," Kiba began, sitting forward. He stopped and sat back. "I mean, it shouldn't be this hard. Never was. Girls like me! I mean, I shouldn't have to work this hard, do I?"
"Yah you do," I said. "That's the point, see."
"I wish I had met her before," Kiba said, pressing the butts of his palms into his eyes.
"I should go," Shikamaru said, getting up. "Work tomorrow. Kiba." He waited until Kiba was looking up at him, and then continued, "Don't worry about it. She probably likes you. Just remember that she's not the type to show it so soon."
Kiba smiled, grateful, and watched as Shikamaru left after nodding once in my direction. When I looked back, Kiba had a thoughtful look on his face. "She mentioned something about Uchiha," he said after a while.
"Oh?" My heart stilled. Something had to go wrong now. Two weeks ago, lunch with Sasuke had ended well, too well, even. He hadn't called as of yet, and since Hinata mentioned something to Kiba, then something must be wrong. I'd gotten too hopeful too fast. Sighing, I sat back and braced myself for the bad news against the welcoming softness of my couch. "She didn't go into much detail, though. Didn't get a chance to."
I smiled at him, and after a few more minutes of comfortable silence, Kiba got up and moved towards the door. "In the morning, then, Naruto," he said. I craned my neck to watch him go, and caught his wave, which I returned with a nod.
I finished my beer slowly, taking small sips and building up my defenses again. Too hopeful, too fast, I thought, gathering the two empty beer cans. I dumped them in the trashcan, and stood still for a moment in the chill of my kitchen before turning of the lights and going to bed, feeling something heavy press down on my chest.
*
Two days later, on a Tuesday, I was in the lounge, teaching Shizune how to cook a simple dish of dunburi with tempura on top. It was an inside deal between us. Her coffee for my cooking lessons, and it worked out well. Tsunade got annoyed every now and then at the crowd I drew whenever I gave a more elaborate lesson, but she would join sometimes and take a few notes herself.
"And then," I said, dropping the finished tempura on and tasting it, "Voila. See, ideally, you'd want to make the tempura yourself, but the brand I mentioned, it tastes good and you can find it virtually everywhere. I like to throw in some fried eggs as a side dish. But you'd want to add salt to that."
Shizune nodded, eyes narrowed in concentration. "So for a pre-made tempura, do I leave it as it is? Or should I add anything to make it special, you know, for last minute dinners?"
I grinned at her. "Of course! There's plenty, but it depends on your taste palette. You could always--"
"Naruto?" It was Tenten, the upper half of her body looking in fron behind the lounge door. "Call for you on line 4."
"Thanks, Tenten." She slipped back out the lounge, closing the door behind her with a soft click. I handed the bowl to Shizune. "I'll be right back."
I picked up the phone on the kitchenette's wall and balanced it on the crook of my shoulder. "Uzumaki," I mumbled, wiping my hands clean on the napkins.
"Naruto."
I panicked. He had barely finished saying my name when the phone slipped and I tried to catch it. As I bent down, I steadied myself with a hand on the counter and pushed a nearby tray full of empty cups into the sink. Distantly, I heard the clatter of some mugs breaking, the tinkling of silverware, a few gasps, and then another crash as I got hold of the phone and the cord tangled with the basket of garlic bread that Chouji brought to work every day.
The room was full of people since it was the popular time for taking a break, and by the time I put the phone back to my ear, there was utter silence.
"Sasuke," I breathed out. His name fell like a stone in a still pool. There was a general shuffle, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw some people move forward so they were closer to me.
"Is everything all right?"
"Ah, yeah," I said, eying the disaster in the sink. A mug had broken and another one cracked. At my feet, there were thick garlic bread pieces scattered on tile. "Just fine." I resisted the urge to twirl my finger in the phone cord. Instead, I began to tap the counter. "So..."
"I should have called sooner," he said, and I knew that it was as much of an apology that I would get. His voice was a low rumble, almost like soft thunder during a spring evening. I shivered when I remembered the feeling of his lips and his taste.
"It's--It's okay," I said, and then, "Is everything all right?"
Sasuke grunted into the phone. "Fine," he said. A pause, and then, "You said last time that--"
"I haven't changed my mind," I cut in.
"Come down," he said after a moment. I stared at the phone.
"Down where?"
"Downstairs, dead last, to the front circle," he grumbled.
"You're here?" I tugged at the phone cord, feeling giddy and lightheaded. "It'll take me fifteen minutes...You'll wait for me?"
He was silent for a moment, and then, "I'll wait."
I waited for him to hang up, which he didn't, so I quickly slammed the phone back into its cradle and stared at it for a good minute before taking a shaky breath. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out. When I turned to Shizune with a guilty smile, I saw her grinning at me with a gleam in her eyes. "So the boyfriend makes another appearance, eh?"
"Boyfriend. Yeah, right." I bent down to clean up the mess I'd made.
"Oh, really?" Shizune bent as well to help me, and when I looked over her shoulder, I saw Shino walking over as well.
"Good news?" He asked, kneeling down to help us with the clean-up.
"He's waiting for him right now," Shizune crooned. "Isn't that so cute? He's waiting for Naruto to come down to him."
I blushed and swatted at her hand when she tried to pick up a piece that I had reached for as well. "Stop being ridiculous."
It took the three of us a few more minutes to finish up, picking up broken pieces, wiping the counter clean. And then, I was heading towards my office, tugging on my jacket as I barked orders into the phone for one of my assistant editors to follow. I hung up hurriedly and slipped out of my office, trying not to break out into a run. I shouldn't be this eager, I chided myself, waiting impatiently for the elevator to come.
When I stepped into the elevator, I glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes passed already, and he was waiting for me. Would he leave? The doors opened on the main floor with a soft swish, and I was stepping out, keeping my pace measured. Knowing his utter lack of patience, he'd probably just get into his car and--
There he was, leaning casually against his car, hands crossed over his chest. He straightened when he saw me come. I was a few feet away from him when he moved aside, and with a smirk and a flourish, opened the car door for me. I rolled my eyes at him, but got in anyways, blushing when he gave me a moment to settle in before shutting the door. This car was just as polished, just as beautiful on the inside as his other one. There was a small, silver logo on the dashboard: two wings.
Sasuke slipped into the driver's seat and buckled himself up. "Chinese?"
"Yes," he said, and had the car at 45 miles per hour in the next heart-beat.
"Where are we going?" He didn't answer, so I tried another question, one that I was sure would get him talking. "What's this car?"
Sasuke grinned, fierce and proud. "Aston Martin, DB9 coupe. I ordered it last week. It took me an hour to decide on the interior, but--" He ran a hand over the dashboard. "I like it."
"You ordered it?"
Sasuke hm-ed, leaning over a little before taking a left turn, taking me to a part of town that I didn't even know existed. There was an iPod sitting snugly into the stereo system, not a single wire in sight. Sasuke reached forward blindly and fiddled with the knobs, moving the flaps of the air conditioning vents until he was satisfied. "Where are we going?"
He didn't answer, so there was no point in trying to make him talk anymore. I leaned forward instead and turned on the iPod. The screen lit up, and then, I was browsing through his songs. The words were a little blurry, but then again, they were in an entirely different language. "What..."
"What?"
"Music?"
Sasuke shrugged. "It's a little loud right now," he warned, and turned down the volume dial. I set the iPod to a shuffle and then leaned back into my seat. A second, and then the music came on, so typically adolescent--heavy guitars, loud base, a language that I didn't even understand, but didn't have to know to guess the nature of the lyrics--that it made me laugh almost instantly. I'd been expecting something else entirely, but this was Sasuke, twenty-three, who loved expensive cars that went fast. He was just Sasuke, who was probably a teenager at some point, awkward, shuffling, and growing too tall, too fast.
Sasuke scowled at me and was about to turn it off when I slapped his hand away. "Sometimes," I explained, moving his hand back to the steering wheel, "I forget just how long it'll take me to get to know you." He stared at me, blushing a little, before going back to driving, moving the car faster along the highway. I looked out the window, smiling still. "Is this a surprise?"
"Not really," Sasuke muttered.
"Slow down?"
Sasuke grinned again, and went even faster. We were at the shopping sector of the city, with all the large, large malls--expensive malls, places I'd never been to before. The place was bustling with people, cars everywhere, people walking across the street to get to a shop. I caught a few names on a large board, Gianni Versace, one said, Hugo Boss, and a long line of designers that I could barely keep up with. When we stopped at a traffic light, Sasuke was practically fidgeting out of his seat, moving dangerously close to the car in front of him.
The light turned green, and we were speeding down. A few more minutes, and Sasuke turned the car into a parking lot. There was something odd about this parking lot, though--eerily silent for this time of day in such a busy part of town. Sasuke stopped by a building and looked at me, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He turned to look at me. "So."
"What--"
"Let's eat," Sasuke said, abruptly, and he was stepping out of the car. I followed him out of the car and towards the building--a restaurant, I realized. When we walked in, a man came up to us.
"This way, Mr. Uchiha," he said, and then set off, weaving through rows and rows of empty tables towards the back where there were doors. He opened one and gestured for us to go inside. I was the first to step in, Sasuke close behind. It was a small, private room, traditional Chinese setting. He must have planned this ahead of time, I thought, smiling to myself. Sasuke and I sat down at the table, and then out of nowhere, the man appeared again and placed a wine bottle by us. He served me first and then Sasuke. "Your menus," the man said and placed two elegant black books in front of us. I ran a finger over the simple white lettering on top: The Yangtze.
Inside, there were rows and rows of food choices, all of them sounding expensive, and none of them with a price tag on them. "It'll be a moment," Sasuke muttered, and then the man was slipping out.
"Uh--I don't know..." Sasuke had his head bent over his menu, a finger running down the line of his jaw thoughtfully. I followed the movement with my eyes, wanted to run my own finger down as well--what did his skin taste like there, I wondered. It was perfectly chiseled, angled, and I'd never thought I would be so distracted by another man's jaw before.
"Sour vegetable fish pot is good. You might like it," he said after a moment. "Suan cai yu."
I smiled at him, his eagerness to please me today. "All right."
He faltered for a moment, and then, "If you want something else--"
"No," I interrupted. "Get me suan cai you?"
"Suan cai yu," he repeated, accent sounding so genuine, it made my breath catch.
"You speak Chinese?"
He smirked. "Your accent is terrible."
"Teach me, then," I leaned forward, lowering my voice unconsciously.
The edge of his lip twitched and he stared at me for a while, leaning back in his chair to consider me with such open appreciation that I started to blush. And then, out of nowhere again, the man appeared, took our orders--Sasuke ordered the yangzhou fried rice for himself--and disappeared. The food came almost instantly, steaming fresh, the vegetables still crunchy. I ate a bite hesitantly, unfamiliar with this cuisine. I'd eaten Chinese before, but only the cheap knock-off versions in downtown. This food was an entirely different experience--"You don't like it?"
"I like it," I said after swallowing my bite. He was looking at me, waiting still. Deciding, I leaned forward and pointed at his food. "Can I try?" He glanced down at his bowl before pushing it forward for me. His rice was just as tasty, just as filling. "You want some of mine?"
Sasuke shrugged and leaned forward to take a bite. He chewed carefully, not looking away from me. "Why's this restaurant so empty anyways? They going out of business?"
He shook his head. "I booked it for the afternoon."
I stared at him. He booked out an entire restaurant because we were having lunch. That was the most ridiculous, extravagant gesture I'd ever--"Why?"
"The parking lot," Sasuke said and went back to his food. He wanted a parking lot to himself. Typical.
"So," I said, digging in. "How's your new secretary?"
Sasuke growled under his breath, and I looked up to catch his scowl. "An absolute ditz," he said.
"I bet you regret firing me, huh?"
"You resigned."
"Did I?" I took another bite and thought about it for a moment before realizing that he was right. "Well, what do you know. I did...I wonder how they make this. I want to try it sometime."
"You cook?"
"Of course," I said, grinning.
"You any good?"
I stared at him, and then daring, said, "I'll cook for you one day, and you can decide for yourself." He stilled, and then a moment later, lifted his eyes to meet mine. "I'd like that."
"Not lunch, though," I said taking another bite. "Too much of a hassle going all the way home and then coming back again. Tsunade would kill me."
"Dinner, then." He threw out the suggestion as if testing the waters.
"Dinner, it is," I said. He seemed pleased and carefully put down his wine. "How's work?" I asked, after a minute had passed.
Sasuke wrinkled his nose. "It would bore you."
"Try me."
He looked up, and pouring himself another glass of scotch, said, "Our deals to merge with Yamamoto fell through, so I have to do damage control now. Build back our standing a little."
"Why did you even want to--"
Sasuke didn't meet my eyes. When he finally spoke, it was slowly, as if he was thinking about what to say. "When my father died and the company was doing badly, Yamamoto nearly destroyed our corporation. I've been trying for two years now--" He snapped his mouth shut and went back to eating with a determined set to his shoulder. So this was about payback.
"You should slow down," I said, tapping the edge of his bowl with my chopsticks to get his attention. He looked up at me, frowning. "You're only twenty-three, Sasuke. You have time still."
"And you're only twenty-two. I heard about the DA. They said he was trying to get an audience with the Supreme Court. "
I sighed heavily. "Please, don't remind me. I've got Tsunade and Jiraiya harping at me about it."
"You...like your job?"
I grinned. Familiar territory. "I never told you? I want to--"
"Become editor-in-chief, yes, I heard," he said, smirking. "But grad school..."
I looked at my wine glass, still untouched. Sasuke's was almost done now. He was probably going to refill in a few moments. How did he remember all these details about me? Why did he even care? "Maybe someday. But...for now, no."
We ate in silence for a little while longer, both finishing our food at around the same time. Sasuke gestured towards the door, "Ready?"
"There's more?" But Sasuke was already standing, waiting for me to move. So I stood up as well, and followed him out the silent, silent restaurant again and into the open. The car was waiting for us, exactly where we'd left it. "Where to--"
Sasuke held the keys in front of me, interrupting whatever else I had to say. I stared at it for a moment, not understanding, and then I remembered: I'll teach you, he said at our last date, in an empty parking lot. And now, he was keeping his promise. I looked over the parking lot that he'd emptied for me, and then back at the car--his new car, one he ordered just last week. I took the keys with a grin. "This," I said, moving towards the driver's seat, "Is the best second date ever."
"Third," Sasuke corrected, and slid into the passenger's seat.
*
Sasuke ran a hand through his hair, which made it stand up even worse. "Clutch, gear, gas," he repeated.
"Right," I said and tried again. The car whined, lurched forward, and then stopped again. The engine shut off.
"You're so--"
"Shh, Sasuke. Let me concentrate." I tried again, the car lurched forward and then moved steadily down. I grinned, turning to face him. "See?"
"Right," Sasuke said, and drummed his fingers on the emergency break. "Now turn."
"No, Sasuke," I scowled, "I'm going to drive right over the curb and into moving traffic."
"Turn," Sasuke hissed because--even I would admit it--I was getting too close to the edge of the parking lot.
I turned the car a little sharply, the tire coming up onto the curb a little. Sasuke let out a growl, but didn't say anything. I was about to ask him, tell me again how to switch gears, when his cell phone rang, sharp and insistent in the car. "Uchiha," he muttered, snapping it open. Not the blackberry, another cell phone, I noticed. He listened for a moment before glancing at his watch. "Right. I'll be there," he said, and then slid it shut. He was silent for a moment, and then, slowly, "I have to go."
Already, I was about to ask, but then I glanced at the time on the dashboard. It read 1:15, accusatory almost. At this rate, Sasuke was going to get me fired for taking off for long, nearly two-hour lunches like this. He was silent for a split-second before unbuckling his seatbelt. We switched seats again, and once he settled in, Sasuke ran a hand over the dashboard again.
"I wasn't that bad," I muttered. He glared at me once before easing into traffic again, not saying anything still. He'd taken off so much of his time, waited for me at my office, let me drive his car around, rented out an entire restaurant for me. But where was this relationship going, anyways? He hadn't made a single move to touch me, to get anywhere near my personal space. In fact, he was so careful not to touch me it was starting to make me wonder if he even wanted me anymore.
But then again, he hadn't been with a man before, so maybe he didn't know how. "Sasuke?"
"Hm," he murmured, distracted.
"Let's go to a movie," I said, daring. With any luck, I might see him in another two weeks. And I was selfish enough to want more of his time today.
Sasuke stared at me for a second before turning back to the road. "I have a meeting, Naruto..."
"Cancel," I insisted, turning to look at him. I'd already done a fair share of my work for the next day's issue already, even decided on my front-page piece, gone over its layout with graphics...I could easily skip the rest of the day without any consequences. Heck, I thought, I'd even planned on lounging around with Lee or Shino for most of the time anyways.
Sasuke considered for a while before sliding out his cell phone. He turned it over in his hand for a minute before opening it and dialing a number. "Yoshie, Kakashi, thank you...Kakashi? Take over the meeting for me, will you?" He was silent for a while, listening, and then, "No, it's not that. Of course not...I realize. Neji'll be there, too. I'll go over--No..." He flushed, and grudgingly muttered, "A movie." Another beat, and then, "Naruto."
He listened for a few more seconds, and that was the end of the conversation. "What movie?" He asked the minute he shut the cell phone off.
"Anything," I said, grinning. "And don't rent out the entire movie theatre, Sasuke."
He smirked and sped down the high way.
*
By the time we got popcorn, soda, and found seats, the movie had already begun. Sasuke settled down, muttering under his breath about how I should have at least let him buy out a row or two so we had more room. I elbowed him to shut him up and settled in to watch the movie.
It was a typical Japanese romantic production, about a man and a woman who were childhood friends, torn apart, and who later met up years later, each with kids of their own, divorced. The two people on screen fumbled around each other, got married, and then fumbled some more with building a family out of two separate homes. The husband was about to hug his wife's youngest, promising him to be a good father, when I felt Sasuke shift, clearing his throat a little pointedly.
I stared at him, but he was looking resolutely into the screen. So I went back, slurping at the soda when Sasuke shifted again, yawned a little too loudly, stretching his hand over his head a little. And this time, his hand came up around the back of my chair. Oh. I ducked my head, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all when Sasuke asked--"What?"
"What yourself, mister," I mumbled, turning to look at him. He scowled at me, and was about to move his hand away when I snatched his fingers and kept it in place. His hand slipped off the chair and came up around my shoulders, warm, heavy, and so at home, it made me smile again. Daring, I moved a thumb over his ring finger, lingering where his engagement ring used to be. The space was empty now, and if I wanted, he could be mine and I could be his.
He didn't move again until the credits rolled.
*
It was nearly three by the time Sasuke dropped me off at my office, still muttering about how stupid that movie was and how we should have seen something else, like maybe Bourne Supremacy or something worthwhile instead of some sapfest excuse of a movie--He stopped the car at the front circle again and suddenly fell silent. I was going to say, I had a good time again, but that felt a little redundant. And besides, we were past our second date now. This was our third, by his count, so--"You still want to come over for dinner? I'll cook."
"When?"
"You tell me," I said.
He was silent for a moment, and then, "Friday night."
I smiled. "Six-thirty." When he nodded, I repeated--more to myself than anything--"You'll be there?"
"I'll be there," he said, and watched me slip out of his car. Once outside, I turned around and bent down a little to tap on the window. He lowered it, frowning.
"Another tip about dating men, Sasuke," I said, grinning at him. "If you want to put your arm around me, you don't have to fake a yawn." Without waiting to see his reaction, I turned and left.
*
"He took me out to lunch, taught me how to drive a car, and then, we watched a movie," I explained to Kiba. He grunted and went back to the game. Shikamaru and Lee were sipping at their beers.
"That's it?" Lee said, sounding a little confused. He fumbled around the table until his hands made contact with a bowl of chips, not taking his eyes off the TV.
"You guys plan on meeting up again?"
"Dinner. Six-thirty this Friday, my place."
"Huh, that's--Kick-off in two minutes," Shikamaru muttered and turned up the volume.
I settled in as well, watching as a roster of player positions on field came up on screen. "Where's Gerrard--"
"Right there," Kiba pointed.
I squinted. "Where?"
"You're blind, Naruto," Shikamaru muttered and then, "You should get an appointment with--"
"I'm not blind."
"So where's Ballack, then, huh?"
I squinted at the screen. "Center, obviously..."
Kiba, Shikamaru, and Lee turned to stare at me. "He's not on field today, Naruto," Lee explained slowly. "Injury's keeping him off field."
"You're blind," Shikamaru repeated, nodding his head to himself.
"I am not--"
Kiba shushed me with a wave of his hand and pointed at the screen: the game had begun.
*
"Oh my god, I'm blind," I moaned. Next to me, Lee tutted in sympathy. "What am I going to do--"
"Wearing those glasses might help," Lee mumbled. I looked at the glass case they had given me with a scowl. Usually, it would take a day or two for the glasses to come in with the exact prescription. My prescription, though, the lady explained, was common--a perfect whole number--and they had them in stock.
They gave me a series of instruction--put them on when reading or when on the computer, but since you're vision also slightly blurs for distances, you might want to get used to keeping them on for the majority of the day, if your head starts to hurt, don't worry, but if it "persists with intensity," please, do call us.
The lady behind the counter helped me in selecting the glasses. We decided on a sleek, rectangular frame that was silver, silver everywhere. "You look different," Lee said, distracted by incoming traffic. A few seconds later, once he'd merged onto the highway, he said, "You want to come over for dinner, Naruto? Sakura would be more than happy to see you."
Truth be told, I wanted to see her too. She was a little on the scary side, true, but I missed her strange sense of humor and mood swings. We drove in silence to their apartment building, and once we got there, Lee told me about how they found this apartment, how Sakura liked being close to Tokyo U's campus--she enrolled in their med school a few months ago. He opened a door for me and pushed through, calling out, "I'm home."
From inside, there was a response. "Welcome back." A second later, I saw Sakura walk out, her face breaking out into a smile when she saw me. "Naruto!"
"I came here to leech off of your fridge for the evening," I said when she hugged me.
"Good, good," she said, taking my face in both her hands and tilting it this way and that. "You look good with the glasses." I smiled at her, and she whisked me inside with "come in, come in," turning around for a quick peck on Lee's cheek.
I took off my shoes at the entrance and walked in through a small corridor. It was a simple, comfortable setting. There was a TV going on, the kitchen already emitting a good smell, and pictures on the walls. The house was in line with Sakura's character. There were dark browns, soft pinks, pastel greens, silver and white. Here and there, I saw the tell-tale sign of Lee: a solid splash of green and orange.
"Dinner?" Lee gestured towards the small dining table nestled in an alcove next to the ktichen.
I grinned at him. "Please. Save this poor bachelor from his own destructive diet."
"Come on," Lee said, walking over to the kitchen sink and washing his hands. He moved aside to let me do the same, and then handed me a towel. "You're the cooking expert, here!"
"Oh, Naruto," Sakura said, walking past me with another dish. I interrupted her second trip by taking the plates from her hand and began to help her set the table. "You can help me, then. I've been trying to cook this..."
The first few minutes of dinner was spent analyzing Sakura's cooking style, with Lee loyally saying that it was the best food he had ever eaten until Sakura began to giggle. They were a comfortable couple, and I could tell that the post-marriage adoration had yet to wear off. There were moments when I caught them staring at each other, and at the end, Sakura laced her hand with Lee's and held it fondly, looking at me with a slight smile. "So, I've heard things."
"You have? Strange," I said, "So have I."
"About?" Lee looked confused.
I bent over and whispered, "They say that the Apocalypse is around the corn--" but the rest of my sentence dissolved in Sakura's laughter.
"No, you silly. I meant about you, and a certain person that we all know."
"Oh, you have?" I felt a blush creeping up to my face and reached over to my water to keep myself from having to answer immediately. "There've been a lot of exaggerated tales floating around," I explained.
"Well, what I've heard," Sakura said, resting her elbows on the table and leaning forward. "Is that you and a certain someone with black hair and a bad attitude are hanging out with increasing frequency. In fact." She sat back for dramatic effect and then considered me. "I've heard that this Friday that you and a certain someone have plans for dinner. At seven. At your place. And you're cooking. Perhaps...breakfast is included?"
I felt my face go hot and looked away from Sakura's teasing gaze. "I. How did you? What? I made plans two days ago? How did you hear about it so--"
"Rumor travels fast," Sakura said. "I got an interesting call from one of my many contacts with these details."
I groaned and massaged my temples. "Oh, give him a break," Lee said, "He's been getting a lot of attention for this."
"Not from the press yet, though, so it must mean that Sasuke is holding the tabloids back a little." She was a little slow in voicing her speculations. "He's never done that before, not with any of the women he's dated--"
"Who--" I cleared my throat, trying to find a right way to ask the question. But this was Sakura, his ex-fiance, and was it even right for me to be talking about him with her. And Sasuke waited only two months after his engagement broke up before dating me. But--I had to know. "Who does he usually date?"
Sakura scoffed, wrinkling her nose. "Models, mostly. Every time he goes overseas, he comes back with one of them hanging on his arms. You know, typical: nice breasts, good legs..." She gestured in the air. "What men usually like. I mean, you're the first man he's ever dated so I don't know."
"I was talking with Wazuka the other day," Lee said after a moment. "She seems perfectly aware of this as well."
I felt my stomach drop. "Her opinion?"
"Couldn't get it out of her," Sakura said. "She seems to be giving it a bit of thought. She always thought that Sasuke would get married to a woman, but then..." She looked at me. "Don't worry yourself over it, though. She likes you a lot, we all know that."
I shook my head. "You're assuming a lot of things. There's nothing official yet. We're just spending some time together, that's all."
Lee chuckled. "Whatever you say, Naruto."
I spent most of the night at their place, and at around midnight, excused myself to go home. It was a short walk from their apartment building to the subway station, so I decided to brave the autumn cold and venture out.
Sasuke, according to what Sakura told me, was the typical straight male. Liked cars, liked women, liked good looking women in his cars. We'd been on, what, four dates and he still hadn't made any moves, which was surprising because the entire time he was engaged he was constantly testing the boundaries between us. There was the time at his office, at Jixi when he shared his bed with me, our date in Jixi, his teasing--all the time. But now?
Now he was barely interested in closing the distance between us. Maybe he changed his mind, I thought, walking up the steps to my apartment. Maybe--just maybe--he decided that he wasn't as interested as he once thought he was.
End of The Eighteenth