Figures A and B

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Chapter Three: Float



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Whenever you do a thing, act as if the whole world were watching.



—Thomas Jefferson



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“Don’t let me down,” Ino warned.



“When have I ever?” Naruto—no, Kyuubi scoffed arrogantly.



“If you insist Kyuubi-sama,” her words, laced in sarcasm.



--



“Arrived at point A—over,” Kyuubi stated.



“Remember, second floor, third window. Oh don’t leave behind any DNA, evidence, nada. ‘Cause if you do—may god help you.”



“Are you calling me a rookie?” Kyuubi feigned mock hurt. He entered the adjacent building to the Trade of the Devil.



“No, I’m telling you to be careful,” he heard her say as he gently lifted up the third window of the second floor but gently place it back down.



No alarms, how odd, he thought, these damn aristocrats are getting cocky. The number of people they have doesn’t insure that they can take one down. It’s their skill and the plan; it’s full of loopholes.



--



“When the hell is that cocky thief going to show up?!” Sasuke mumbled to himself, quite impatiently. It was his shot to redeem himself and he wasn’t going to give it up.



Even if it was better for society and the rest of the police force if he doesn’t show up but in all reality—Uchiha Sasuke’s got some score to settle with this asshole.



Security was top notch; even Itachi himself commented on the amount of people they stationed here to catch one pesky thief.



Who was he to alert the police force? Who was he to waltz in here and run the show? Kyuubi had the media under his fingers and he intended to make the best out of it.



That pompous bastard…



I’ll make sure I’ll give him a piece of my mind when I see that bastard.



--



He lit a cigarette. He placed it between his lips with his hands; the same hands that had witnessed a thousand murders.



Itachi had been on patrol on the adjacent building, the rooftop to be more exact. He already knew he wasn’t going to be in any danger, that’s why he’s sitting on the edge, with his feet dangling on air.



Taking in the thick smoke, he savored it and parted his lips; exhale.



He calmly watched the struggle between his student and his own brother. Itachi had an emotionless face on, he did not wonder who will win, and rather he knew the outcome of it already.



What a bore, he thought as he watched Sasuke whip out his gun and pointed towards Kyuubi, the rather intimidating figure, in Sasuke’s point of view. Sasuke’s fingers shook unsteadily, threatening to shoot if Kyuubi had gotten any closer.



He isn’t allowed to use that gun… Itachi thought.



Faintly, Itachi heard Sasuke say to Kyuubi, “Hand it over.”



“No can do,” Kyuubi replied, smoothly.



“Why the hell not?”



Itachi watched Kyuubi step closer towards his little brother, “Because…”



“Don’t come closer!” Sasuke’s voice firmly commanded as Kyuubi halted, “Good, now drop it.”



“Drop what?” he teased.



Frustrated, Sasuke retorted, “You know damn well what.”



Patience is the key, little brother, Itachi mused as he had another go at his cigarette.



“Alright if you insist,” Kyuubi dropped a metallic disk; shiny and reflective. It was just another compact disk, seemed easily replaceable.



“Good, now kick it over.”



“I have cramps,” Kyuubi stated.



“Too bad, kick it over.”



“Damn Uchihas,” Kyuubi mumbled.



I heard that…Naruto.



“Won’t that damage the merchandise?” Kyuubi piped up.



“Perhaps…”



“So, come and get it.”



“Kick it damn it,” Sasuke commanded roughly; his arm already getting tired from lack of circulation from holding the damned gun for too long.



“Fine,” Kyuubi complied.



Sasuke walked a couple of steps, picked it up and examined it.



“Hey, this isn’t the real deal!” Sasuke spluttered.



Real smooth…



With that, Kyuubi broke out in a run. He ran towards Itachi’s building and jumped.



“Idiot,” Itachi spat, let go of his cigarette, which fell onto the floor.



Sasuke had already started shooting blindly as Kyuubi smashed a window in an attempt to hide from the alerted officers.



Itachi heard a sickening crack, a breaking of a bone.



Sirens instantly shouted.



“Stop shooting! Sasuke, I repeat, stop shooting!” Itachi frantically yelled into the walkie talkie.



Reckless…



--



“Aw, shit.” Kyuubi cursed. He quickly plucked the bullet out and pocketed it.



“Are you okay?” Ino asked through the ear piece.

“I’m fine, chill out. Go to bed, we got school tomorrow.”



“Take care.”



He was warned to wear a bullet proof vest and was glad he heeded the warning; but damn it still hurt like a bitch.



There’s going to be a bruise there tomorrow, he thought.



The red and blue lights danced around in a spherical motion as the sirens echoed down the street. Quickly, he dived behind the dumpster.



It’s too bad for the police that they think he’s in that building whose window he had smashed.



Police cars patrolled the streets, slowly but surely.



--



Deidara rolled side to side in his computer chair, mumbling obscenities. Well, mumbling obscenities and directing all his anger towards his clay.



Clay, simple and easily manipulated; that’s how he loved it.



“When the hell is that brat going to be back? Un…” he asked himself angrily.



“What brat, Deidara-san?” Tobi inquired.



“You know damn well! Un!” he snapped.



“Must be ‘Ruto-kun I’m assuming; why he was back an hour ago,” Tobi smiled through his mask; an orange one at best, with a simple hole for his eye.



Deidara stopped molding the malleable substance and turned around.



“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?” he exploded.



“Well, Deidara-san, you didn’t ask,” Tobi said lightheartedly.



Deidara mimicked in a mock child Tobi voice, “Well Deidara-san, you didn’t ask,” as he waltzed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, “Hmph!”



He clapped his two hands together thrice and the light all lit up in unison.



The blond walked hastily as if he wanted to pummel the other blond, that said being Naruto.



Well, he (Deidara) really wanted to. After all, the said sixteen year old teen was playing with his clay birds.



He kicked the door open, refusing to use his precious artful hands to be damaged.



“NARUTO!” Deidara screamed.



The room had a metallic coated round table in the center with stools surrounding it. A single bare light bulb lit up the room (hanging from the ceiling).



Apparently, Naruto was asleep, head buried in his arms. Hell, he was so tired; he didn’t even have a shirt on, only to be covered by cloth bandages.



“Five more minutes,” he grumbled in his drowsy state as he buried his golden tresses into his arms.



“No, no—get up now. You and I have a score to settle,” Deidara huffed indignantly.



“Up yours,” Naruto automatically retorted as he unconsciously scooted away further.



“Oh my Naruto, I never knew you like that sort of thing. Perhaps one day, when you’re legal. Why, I’ll never be the uke, so that just leaves you to be it, of course by the process of elimination! Fantastic—and to thing I was going to kick your pretty little ass. Un…”



Deidara tapped it.



“Jesus Christ—fuck! I’m awake, geez,” Naruto glanced at the silver clock, mounted on top of the freshly painted wall, “It’s fucking three in the morning. Unlike you I have school tomorrow.”



“Hold it right there, I have school too! Un!”



“Oh yeah, like you’ll ever wake up in five hours to attend your first class.”



“I might, Itachi-kun has it with me, so he’s bound to wake me up! Un!”



“When hell freezes over, Deidara,” Naruto huffed, “Why are you here anyway?!”



“Oh right, I almost forgot,” Deidara points an accusing finger, “You touched my clay, un.”



“Well shoot me if I’m bored and curious.”



“Okay,” Deidara happily agreed.



“Fuck this—I’m going to Itachi’s room. At least Kisame would leave me the hell alone. I’m sure Itachi won’t mind, after all his bastard brother shot me.”



“I already know that. I mean look at you, you’re wincing every time you move, un.”



“Am not!”



“Are too.”



“I’m going to sleep.”



“You owe me a pack of Play Dough, un!”



“Whatever,” Naruto mumbled sleepily.



“Meeting tomorrow.”



Naruto groaned.



--



“Damn that’s another one, Sasuke,” Fugaku rebuked once more, “We’re seriously losing face here. I got my hopes up for nothing, just once, I thought you would actually accomplish something.”



Sasuke inwardly scowled. He hated being compared to his elder brother.



“I’m assigning this case to someone else. Maybe someone like Kakashi-san. He may be an outsider but he is intelligent. You can learn a thing or two from him.”



“As a matter of fact—you’re working under him now, until you learn how to handle yourself.”



It’s all Kyuubi’s fault. Once I eliminate my antagonist, I’ll get recognition.



“Father,” Sasuke said aloof, “I’m leaving.”



Fugaku grunted.



--



Sasuke hitched a ride from his brother this time.



His hands gripped his seatbelt tightly and yelled, “Damn slow down! You’re driving 80 in a 30 mile zone!”



“I’m in a hurry, my class starts in twenty.”



“That’s plenty of time!”



“Not with Deidara-san,” Itachi took a sharp turn as Sasuke flew back onto his seat, “I suppose you’re here. Have a good day.”



Sasuke stepped out of the car, a bit disheveled due to the reckless driving from his twenty one year old brother. He honestly hated the fact that his parents thought of him responsible.



He walked up the hill in a brooding manner, ignoring everybody who bade him a Good Morning.



He popped open his locker and waited patiently for class to start, being the first one to arrive.



Naruto was sitting outside of the room, his back propped up by the locker. He was conversing with Gaara.



--



“How did it go last night?” Gaara asked. Did you get it?



“Scored, of course!” Naruto replied cheerfully. Of course I did.



“How was she?” Gaara furrowed his nonexistent eyebrows. I saw you on television.



“Hard to get.” Those god damn cops chased me!



“There’s an open house tomorrow.” Meeting.



“I know. There’s going to be plenty of them.” I know, I hate them as much as you do.



Sasuke wrinkled his nose in disgust as the bell rang.



This was going to be a very long day, he could feel it.