Tadaima

Kiki-Chan: Another day, another chapter. =D
Kyoko and Natsumi-chan (yes, suffix and all) are my characters, as I made them up in the wee hours of the night... or morning. Hmmm. And if it comes down to it, I'll be adding more warnings in the summary... I didn't before because I am an extremely lazy person. =D
Anyways, enjoy another chapter of Uchiha goodness.


"The Fifty Year Old Fangirl"

Was it possible to get onto the stone with death by heatstroke? After all, though it was a D-rank mission of pulling weeds, it was still a mission and Sasuke would still be dying in the line of duty.

Sasuke used his feared ninja powers and yanked yet another unwanted plant out of the ground.

The person who had requested this mission had been the niece of a woman who’d become too old to tend to the garden herself. Dark eyes scanned the plotted land; admittedly it was beautiful with a plethora of flowers bursting before him. But Sasuke could care less. All the teen knew was when these damn cuffs came off, he would be leveling everything in site, the damn garden included.

Sasuke’s ears, dulled from the cursed cuffs, still picked up the soft sound of a door opening and gentle footsteps on a wooden porch. It was the niece.

“Sasuke-kun!” Kun? Kun? That little- “Baa-chan wants to know if you’d like some lemonade.”

Sasuke took a deep breath and turned to face the dark haired girl. He may not like her, but he had manners. “Iie. Arigatou, Kimura-san.”

She waved a hand in mock exasperation. “Now, now. I told you to call me Natsumi-chan. No need to be formal, ne?” She smiled widely. “Now how about you come inside and I’ll fix you a nice glass of lemonade.”

The proud Uchiha resisted the urge to go ahead and make her cry. She’d been nice to him in the face of his cold polite attitude. So Sasuke ripped of the gardening gloves from his fingers, and scowled his way over to the house.

Inside their humble abode, it was small, but cozy. While it could have been described as tacky what with the weird leopard print pillows on the fire red couch, the paintings of naked men and women er—fornicating, hanging on the wall, and small glass figurines of monkeys littered everywhere, not to mention the six cats slinking their way over to the blinking ninja, it was more warm and lived in than anything else.

“Sasuke-kun,” Natsumi-chan said, startling the aforementioned boy, “Your lemonade.”

The Uchiha wasn’t sure he wanted to drink from a cup shaped like a neon yellow spotted pink giraffe with an electric blue crazy straw sticking down its yawning mouth, its throat, and ending in its belly where the lemonade collected. But his ingrained clan manners made him reach out to grab curved tail acting as a handle and take a sip from the straw.

The sugar hit the back of his throat, coating his esophagus, and only because of his years of training was Sasuke able to cover up the wince generated from the drink.

Kami-sama, it was like they poured an entire bag of pure sugar into the poison known as lemonade.

He looked up and through watery eyes, he found Natsumi-chan waiting with an expectant look on her face. Sasuke swallowed audibly and replied, “It’s very good.”

He hoped she wasn’t expecting more than that, and by the exuberant expression on her face, she wasn’t. “Oh, I’m glad you like it. Now why don’t you stay for dinner, ne? Baa-chan will be up soon and she’ll be so happy if you do!”

One slim, dark eyebrow twitched. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to get out of this.


Some things are simply beyond a ninja’s control. Weather, spies, dinner in the Kimura household.

As it turned out, Natsumi-chan, who'd been wearing a leapord print kimono, had not decorated the house. No, it had been her aunt who was surely senile, colorblind, or both.

Upon their first meeting, she’d strutted into the kitchen in neon green spandex shorts and a lavender, short kimono-style top tied with a orange obi. On her left leg, there was a fluorescent yellow shruiken pouch. Sasuke stopped and stared at the fifty year old woman who stopped and stared back.

They blinked.

And stared.

And blinked.

A split second before the woman squealed and promptly glomped the Uchiha, he sensed danger.

“Kawaii! You must be Uchiha Sasuke! I’m Kimura Kyoko. Marry me,” the woman squealed, all the while hanging off of the stoic boy. “Na-chan! You’ll come to our wedding, ne?” she called, twisting in the Uchiha’s arms, which had come up to save her from falling.

“Hai, hai,” Natsumi-chan replied absently, used to her aunt’s behavior. She finished setting the table and looked up at the squealing woman and the eyebrow twitching teen. “Baa-chan, get off of Sasuke-kun and come to eat. Ignore her. Eventually, you won’t even notice.”

Kyoko slid, yes, slid down the Uchiha in a pout that accented her blood red lips. She slinked over to the table and slouched into her chair.

Sasuke could feel a headache coming and his eyes were beginning to hurt from the nervous twitch he’d seemed to have developed.

“Oi, Sasu-chan,” Kyoko called, “come sit by me.”

Sasuke took a deep breath to settle himself. She’s old. She means no harm. Wait until you are off probation to kill her. You can do it slowly and no one will ever find the body.

The thought brought his boiling bloodlust to a simmering murderous intent.

“Hai, Kimura-sama,” he replied calmly as he slid into the wooden seat next to her. She showed a surprising display of strength by yanking the seat he sat in closer to her and wrapped herself around his left arm.

Now Sasuke identified the sense of danger he’d gotten earlier: Kimura Kyoko was a fangirl.

“Mou, don’t be so formal, Sasu-chan! Call me Kyo-koi!”

Fuck probation.

Kiki-Chan: So I tried to lighten the mood a little, because those last few chapters just sort of depressed me a little. >.< But I hope you guys liked it because I had fun writing it.
Next chappie coming soon. Review please! It helps. Ja ne!