Same Soul • Sasunaru

34. Pre-Death.

Naruto's POV
Osaka, Japan
Sunday
6:00 a.m.

The demon

Meets an angel

🌹•🌹•🌹

"Naruto!" a distant voice trickles through the darkness of my sleep. My senses slowly become aware of my surroundings and the cold hands shaking my shoulders back and forth. "Wake the hell up, we got to get out of here right now!" He starts lightly patting the sides of my face. I scrunch my twitching eyelids in an involuntary response.

"Sasuke," I groan in a murmur, pushing his wrist away from my cheeks with my elbow and forearm. "Go back to the couch where you belong and let me sleep, kuso. I didn't expect you to be an early bird the last day of winter break..." My eyes open slightly to observe nothing but an empty wall space; patiently waiting for his reaction.

Several seconds of silence stand between the space in the middle of us and I try to imagine the look on his face, until he starts to yell. "I'm serious about this, damnit!" Two articles of clothing are thrown on the edge of the bed by my feet. "Get some clothes on, we're running out of time! Suigetsu's waiting for us in the driveway."

I grip my blanket to lightly drape it over my head to hide away from his glance. "I'm not interested in going out to for Sunday breakfast with you and your friend, 'ttebayo." I pull my legs up to my chest; denying the fluttering feeling in my heart. "Besides, are you really so nervous that you invited a third wheel?"

"Shit Naruto," Sasuke murmurs under his breath after he sucks air through his teeth. Suddenly, I am being stripped of my covers and pulled against Sasuke's pale chest like he's holding a bride. The feeling of his bare skin against mine causes my cheeks to burn; I'm only in boxers! But I'm too entranced to even yell at him about and act like it's his fault.

Our eyes draw themselves together, and we search inside of each other's irises until he speaks again. "It's your dad. I'm really worried about him right now, so we're going to visit him at work on his lunch break. Is that alright?" He laces his skinny fingers through my messy morning hair, but I barely notice it through me processing the situation. Why would he suddenly be concerned about Minato?

I let his hands slip from underneath my knees; standing myself up on the hardwood floors. His hand still rest on my lower back; his deep brown eyes bearing the look of concern. "Dad's always really busy at music studio managing artist, and most of the time he never gets to eat lunch—"

"Why are we in such a hurry to leave this long before his lunch...do you know something new about the Akatsuki that I don't, Sasuke?"

.
.
.

Minato's POV
Warner Music Records Offices
Osaka, Japan.

"What do you say, Namikaze-san?" Sasori murmurs behind me ominously; I can practically see the devious grin that's luminating off his face in the back of my mind. "Do you want to relinquish our differences over a some Sake during break? Let it be a celebration for our artist's new album release."

I keep my back towards him; counting the yen coins in my palm before pushing them in the vending machine slot. "What a weird request. You must want something from me."

I press the button for the selection of the black coffee a bit harder then intended out of annoyance with him. The can drops, and I retrieve it quickly; planning to walk around him out of his path. But when I turn around to face him, his expression makes me feel frozen. Lord knows how this kid half my age can intimidate me like a ghost.

The brown color in his eyes appear duller as he draws his hand to his chest. "Trust me when I say this is from the goodness of my heart. I'll even pay the tab for you if you're willing to get day drunk with me." His lips stretch to reveal pearly teeth that appears brighter when contrasted against his cherry red locks of hair that brushes over his forehead.

There are a few reasons I've never been fond of Sasori. The most obvious reason is that he's annoying in the most charismatic way possible. When we work together on managing an artist, it's a game of good-cop-bad-cop. He lets the artists do everything they want to keep the business, and I'm the one to correct him so we can make logical decisions for the artist's benefit. The other reason for disliking him is something that's more hidden behind his pretty face and cash.

Sasori swooshes his arm over my shoulder and snatched the can of coffee from me. "Let's put this in the break room fridge for tomorrow's hangover."

.

.

.

Me and Sasori exit the building confidently; knowing our stature is so high that nobody would say anything if we came back drunk. The female employees all coo and whisper to each other with wide smiles and pink cheeks as the glare at Sasori. Modestly, the read head keeps his hands tucked in his pockets and his eyes forward towards the exit of the studio.

"The girls really seem to like you, Nami-san," Sasori remarks without release his fixation on what's in-front of us. "It's true that you really look half your age." Initially I believed he was mocking me, but his poker face and genuine tone makes me think otherwise. Sasori is a master manipulator.

Past the front entrance of the studio's lobby, an image of pastel pink flashes before my eyes. I only know one person in Osaka with pink hair and green eyes. It is Kizashi-san's daughter, Sakura Haruno. I remember Naruto having a crush on her in elementary school, but once he was in high school, he never talked about her again.

Sasori notices her appearance too, and quickly runs out the rotating door to greet her. She's talking sweetly to the old lady at the sugared kotobuki (fried Japanese yams covered in sugar) stand while handing the woman a few yen coins. Her focus is lost when she meets eyes with Sasori as he continues to walk towards her confidently.

"My my my, it's Saku-chan!"