Freshmen Chronicles

Author's note: Do not be alarmed by Inoichi and Minato having different last names, it will be explained. Oh yeah, I made a small edit in the last chapter. I thought it over, and Naruto seems more like a marketing guy versus a business guy.


Chapter 2


"I believe there has been a mistake," the elder stoic and pale finally states smoothly and assuredly. Even though he is clearly not from this country, his English is so crisp and perfect that I almost consider switching my minor to Western Languages. There is no reason that he should speak a language that I was born speaking better than me. Damn, maybe I should go with linguistics. Besides, Kiba needs no help on the technology front. Yeah, linguistics it is.


"I'll say," young stoic and pale tries to chime in in a scathing, deep voice; however, the effort is wasted because the level of Engrish that blasts out of his mouth almost makes me burst out laughing. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought he had said, "I-er-ah say." I'm tempted to ask him to repeat it, because seriously, you usually can only find this type of shit on YouTube, but this mutual stare-fest is beginning to get on my nerves, and I got better things to do.


"Hi, I'm Naruto Uzumaki-Namikaze, nice to meet you," I announce as I extend my hand to the elder stoic and pale. His eyes widen to the point where I have to reconsider his unofficial nickname, but he still doesn't take my hand. Hmm, maybe his name should be changed to Pale Asshat.


"Uzumaki-Namikaze? Nihongo wo hanasu?" He asks, and it's my turn for my eyes to widen. Of course, he hears a name like mine, and assumes I can speak his native tongue. Considering the extreme reaction I just got from him, I kind of feel bad that I have to let him down.


"Sorry, even though I'm mixed with Japanese, I don't speak the language," I inform as I nervously rub the back of my neck. I swear I hear a snort from somewhere, but the enraptured gaze that's burning through my face is doing a good job at keeping my attention. I sort of feel like I'm on trial and I'm willing to say anything to get those eyes to go elsewhere.


"I'm second generation," I blurt after a full 30 seconds of gawking. Apparently, that was the thing to say, because his seismic wave-inducing gaze releases me, and now I'm wondering what the hell just happened. All he gives me to go on is a low, "Ah," before turning to Accent Extreme, A.K.A stoic and pale number two.


"What are your origins?" Pale Asshat asks, and a pause extends beyond the point of conversational, and at this point is pregnant with twins. It takes more than a second to realize that the he's talking to me. Who in the hell turns their back to someone that they're speaking to without a good reason? I guess I'm just that unimportant to this guy. Whatever.


"My Granny Tsunade is half-Russian and half-Japanese; both of her parents were mixed. While she was visiting family in Kyoto, she met my Jii-Jii Jiraiya, who's mostly Japanese. My mom's maiden name is Uzumaki, but she was adopted by a Japanese couple as a baby. She's mostly Scottish and German. This makes me roughly 3/8 Japanese, ¼ Scottish, ¼ German, 1/8 Russian, and a trace amount of something else," I rattle off, and can't help but to smirk when he gives me an appraising look. Growing up in my family, you practically have to be a trained geneticist, or else you'll end up fucking one of your cousins, unknowingly, but he doesn't need to know that. He would probably keel over, if he knew that the couple who adopted my mother was actually my Granny's first cousin Hajime, and his wife, Kiko, from her maternal side, which opened the door for my dad to meet her. That's right; we keep it in the family over here! ^_~


"I see. What is your major?" Pale Asshat inquires, with just the slightest amount of interest. Considering that just a few seconds ago it appeared that I could have randomly combusted and not gotten a reaction out of him, I have to say that I'm doing pretty damn good. It's hard not to like a Namikaze.


"I'm going for a Bachelor of Arts in International Marketing, so that I can help globalize my Uncle's company, and…" I begin, but true to form, Pale Asshat rudely interrupts.


"Your Uncle's Company? What's the name of this company?" He asks without even having the decency of looking ashamed at his own rudeness. Is there some unwritten law that states that you can be an asshole as long as you have a certain amount of money? You certainly don't see beggars and hobos acting like this!


"Yamanaka Enterprise…" I begin, but stop as his eyes fully widen. Ah, I guess he heard of us.


"Excuse my manners; it's been a long flight. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Fugaku Uchiha, and this is my son Sasuke Uchiha," he says as he extends his hand. For a split second, I am tempted to not take it, but I was raised better than that, so, of course I take the damn thing.


The moment our hands touch, he passes along his business card. I quickly read over it, and see Uchiha Corporations emblazoned across the top. Ha, no wonder I'm finally worthy of knowing his name; his company holds a fucking monopoly on anything to do with biomedicine in Japan, because the Uchiha wisely focused on both biomedical law and research. Everyone in that family is either a lawyer, doctor or scientist, and they stay ahead of the game by shutting down all local competition.


Fortunately, they can't do that to us, because we have a patent on a new neuro-chip that is making waves, so he's probably trying to find a way to get a merger. He could get the Uchiha name over here, and stop us from competing in Japan at the same. He's clearly barking up the wrong tree, because it's not going to happen. This company was my Uncle's baby from its inception. He put himself through medical school to become a neurosurgeon, he put my dad through school to become a biomedical engineer, and now he's helping me pay for my degree. Yamanaka Enterprise is a family business, and it will stay a family business. We may be small now, but no overpaid jackass from Japan is going to weasel his way in, and piggyback off my family's hard work. Okay Asshat, game on.


"Sasuke, go and get your things. It appears that there hasn't been a mistake after all," Fugaku says nonchalantly as he quickly looks at his son. Before he can even turn back to me, Accent Extreme, I mean Sasuke, explodes.


"What? You can't be serious…" he starts and then quickly switches to Japanese. He's clearly pissed as shit, because his Japanese makes German sound like a romance language. I would be worried if there was anyone else besides Fugaku on the receiving end that, but as it stands, I feel like I'm watching a train wreck, or rather a massive pile of runny shit slowly approaching a fan.


"Urusai!" Fugaku yells, and immediately the room is quiet. Hell, I'm tempted to kick my heart's ass for beating too loudly; I don't want that guy's attention over here. Luckily, Fugaku's face is only for his son at the moment, and Sasuke's eyes are so frightened and wide that I actually feel bad for him.


Within seconds, Fugaku is standing in front of Sasuke speaking in low and angry Japanese. Whatever he's saying must be worse than anything I can imagine, because as the seconds tick on, Sasuke's face crumbles exponentially. Then, out of nowhere, I hear a surprised squeal, but I don't know what caused it. I didn't see Fugaku hit, kick or punch Sasuke, so what the fuck did he do? What the hell, did he pinch him or something?


Before I can come up with more questions or scenarios, Fugaku turns back to me, and I swear he looks no different than he did before Sasuke's outburst. It's like it never happened!


A grunt turns my attention to the door, and I see Sasuke struggling with a suitcase that looks like it houses a few people. I lift weights almost daily, and can't carry that, so I know that this slim dude is catching hell. It's clear that his father isn't going to help, so I try to make my way to the door.


"Naruto," Fugaku calls out and rests a hand on my shoulder before I can take more than three steps. I turn to look at him, and he actually has a small smile on his face.


"It had to be fate for our family's paths to cross this way. I hope that we can make the most of this meeting for years to come," he says conversationally, but I can't help but to look past him to see how Sasuke is managing. His face is almost the same stoic mask that he arrived with, but now his eyes are too dull, yet somehow too bright at the same time, and his eyelashes are slightly wet and a bit clumpy. He's clearly fighting back tears, but based on the little bit I've seen of his personality, he's going to go apeshit, if I go near him. So, begrudgingly, I look away.


"Thanks, and likewise," I say while flashing a forced grin at Fugaku. I almost forgot he was speaking to me, so I threw in the grin as a way to make my pause less awkward, and to cover up what I was really feeling. Just a short while ago I was worried about nudity and farting, but I would take that any day over this shit. My family has its drama, but we all love each other, and are close-knit. I don't think I can say the same about the Uchiha based on what I just saw.


"Well, I have to head out to the airport. Be sure to spend the rest of the day acquainting yourself with the campus, and the heads of the business department," Fugaku orders his son with a straight face, and isn't satisfied until he gets a swift nod from said son. Then, he turns back to me with a minuscule smile. Two-face, anyone?


"It's been a pleasure meeting you; I'll be in touch," he says casually, and then heads out, before shaking my hand a second time. Before the door can close completely, Sasuke throws a book at the wall, making me jump. He then shoulders past me, even though there is plenty of room.


"Stay out my way," he says threateningly, and commences to set up as though I'm not there. Pity or no pity, I'm about to give him a piece of my mind, but someone else walks in.


"I almost didn't believe Ino when she described your spread, hm. But, then again, you've always been a lucky bastard," Deidara announces with a grin from the doorway. I'm still staring angrily at Sasuke, but I may as well be invisible to him.


"Believe me, it has its downsides," I say with a frown, and immediately Dei's face becomes puzzled. He then looks past me at the Uchiha, before reality sets in.


"If you were old enough, I'd take you out for a drink, hm. Since that's not happening, let's get some grub," he says, and my growling stomach punctuates his statement. I frown and glare at it, which just causes Dei to laugh. Everyone knows how I feel about food in all of its shapes and forms, but sadly, I'm gonna have to take a rain check.


"I wish I could, but I have to be at orientation in 20 minutes, so there's no time to go anywhere besides a fast food joint, and that's not happening. It's not often that you pay, so I'm not gonna waste it on a damn Big Mac," I respond, and Dei bursts out laughing. I can't help but to smile as well, because his good mood is infectious. That's instantly smashed to hell the minute I hear Sasuke shuffling around behind me.


"Besides, I still have things to take of here," I add with my newly reformed frown, which causes Dei to close his eyes and shake his head.


"Everybody should be done with class by 5:30pm, so we can all meet up then," he starts, and I nod in agreement.


"Don't get into any trouble before then. I'm not bailing you out, hm," he adds as he heads out. Shit, he knows me too well. Oh well, it has to be done. So, on that note, I close the door, and swiftly approach my roommate as he's hanging up his clothes. He doesn't acknowledge me until I invade his personal bubble, which only pisses me off further.


"Look, I don't care if you don't like me. I don't care if you don't ever speak to me. But, if we're going to live together, you're going to respect me," I angrily declare. He just looks at me like I'm a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe.


"And who the fuck are you demanding my respect? You're nobody. Respect is earned," he says, and before I know it, I'm practically nose-to-nose with the guy.


"Yeah, respect is earned, but so is disrespect you asshole, and I haven't done a damn thing to you! But, keep pushing your luck, and I will be glad to change that," I growl out, and I have to wiggle my fingers to stop them from forming a fist. Depending on what he says next, I may have to hit him, and I think an open-handed hit will get me in less trouble than a full-out punch will.


Looking at his eyes, I can see that he wants nothing more than to fight me, and my body is practically pulsating with the anticipation of a good scrap. But, apparently, he has better control than I have, because after a few tense seconds, he calms himself down, and goes back to putting his clothes away.


"Whateber, you're not worth my time," he says coolly, and my mind stumbles over his mispronunciation. That stumble buys enough time for me to cool off a bit more, so now I'm finally able to move away. But, I can't help, but to throw one last jab, before I head out.


"They could have at least given me a roommate that speaks fucking English properly," I mumble loud enough for him to hear. As I bend the exit, I hear him pause, before going back to his task. Finally, a reaction! I smirk as I mentally pat my back over a job well done, but somewhere deep inside; I can't help but to feel a bit bad for saying it. Whatever, I can't be bothered with this right now. I have ten minutes to get to my orientation that's on the other side of campus, which is a 15-minute power walk away. Shit, I guess I had better run.