I think the Chapter 15 was the hardest to write out of all of them. I had to research a lot more and watch shows like Project Runway, The Fashion Show, and America's Next Top Model to get a real grasp of how TV shows regarding fashion work. And in doing so, I saw all of these beautiful, beautiful designs that are so vivid and resemble pieces of art, I am ashamed as a writer because I cannot convey the amount of detail or shape of the clothes. Haha. It can also be due to my absolute lack of interest in fashion. Why my muse decided to make me write a story about modeling, I'll never know. Muses are period.

And with this, I bring Haute Couture to a close. Thank you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any of its characters.

Epilogue, 3 years later: Fated

"Itachi-san? I'm going out to do some shopping. "What would you like for dinner tonight?"

The voice floated down the stairs serenely, reaching the ears of said man in the living room. He was holding a book in one hand, running his fingers across the raised dots on the page that were meant to represent words and characters.

"It is rather cold today." Itachi replied, angling his head to hear the person better. "Nabe (1) will be good for such weather."

"Hmm…" The person hummed, standing at the doorway connecting the living room and kitchen. "What base would you like for the soup then, Itachi-san? Miso?"

"We'll decided when we get there." Itachi closed his book with a soft pat, and walked towards the other.

He raised his hand to where he knew the rattan basket hung on the person's forearm. Tugging softly at the handles, the person allowed him to remove it.

"We're eating out tonight, Hinata."

"Itachi-san." She put her hands on her hips, frowning delicately. "I can still cook for two people. It's not tiring at all."

Itachi stroked her cheek tenderly, with the knuckle of his forefinger. A small smile graced his features. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her close. Her hand came up to clasp his, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze.

"And soon it shall be three." Itachi chuckled quietly. "Save your energy for then."

"Mm." She leaned into the strong chest, breathing in the faint smell of cinnamon. "Oh, I met Naruto-kun at the supermarket yesterday. He says, 'this week for sure!'."

"Hmph." Itachi did something between a scoff and a laugh. "We shall have to invite them out to dinner… Once my foolish little brother gathers enough courage to inform us."

"Sakura-san and Sai-san have been going strong for the past two years too. A make-up artist and an actual artist." Hinata giggled, lifting her chin to gaze at his face. "Though everyone was certainly surprised when they started dating after Konoha Studios was set up again by both Naruto-kun and Sasuke-san. He's slowly re-employing all the former staff. And he's contacted some of Taka's staff too."

Itachi lifted their hands, pressing his lips against the ring of white gold adorning the fourth finger of her right hand. The same ring, only bigger, decorated the same finger of his right hand.

"More surprising than an Uchiha marrying a Hyuuga?" Itachi raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

A twist of fate indeed.

Hinata merely replied by placing a chaste kiss on Itachi's cheek.

"Hn?" Sasuke tilted his head to one side, staring at the large A4-sized envelope currently sitting in their mailbox.

It was addressed to Namikaze Naruto and Namikaze Sasuke. He took the lift back up to the penthouse, pondering over the names written. Naruto had started to use 'Namikaze' instead of 'Uzumaki' when he re-registered Konoha Studios as a company last year. They were starting out small, but the number of clients were surprisingly large. Maybe people remembered the name. As he walked through the door of the bedroom he now shared with Naruto—they had refurnished the place—he paused.

Naruto was sitting up, gazing out the window with an expression of absolute bliss on his face. His eyelids were half-mast, he had an arm resting on his knee, and the hints of a smile playing on his lips.

So he's awake already? Sasuke thought, lowering himself onto the other side of the bed. What a rare occasion. He began to sift through the rest of the letter pile, sorting them out.

"Hey, Sasuke," Naruto breathed the name out in a lovely sigh, "are you… happy?"

"I will be if you clean up and get dressed within the next fifteen minutes." He snorted in reply. "We've got to be at the studios at 9am, usuratonkachi. We can't be late."

"No, teme, I meant—are you happy being with me? About us?" Naruto asked once more.

Sasuke glanced up from the ink and paper. Curious onyx met patient aquamarine, that were waiting for the answer to be revealed. He gave a little scoff. Trust him to start these sort of conversations. Sasuke lowered his eyes, hating the red that gradually dusted his cheeks.

"I have been…" Sasuke's voice dropped to a murmur. "I still am, dobe."

"I see." Naruto gave a sigh of relief.

"What brought this on?" Sasuke was perplexed, immediately trying to forget that he made such an embarrassing confession.

Naruto took a deep breath, ignoring his question, and said, "I love you."

He took Sasuke's hand, lacing their fingers together as tightly as he could. Sasuke observed him with watchful eyes. He then opened his mouth to say something, but Naruto swiftly beat him to it.

"Will you marry me, Sasuke?"

The raven's head shot upright, his eyes growing wide, and he stared and stared and stared.

Stared at Naruto, who had nothing but sweet, solemn earnestness across his face.

Stared at the band of gold being held out to him, with an oblong-cut diamond glittering in a small section of it.

Stared at their linked hands, full of warmth that was shared.

"Why… are you crying?"

A thumb came to swipe away the single tear that had trickled slowly down Sasuke's cheek. The raven tucked his chin in, letting his bangs obscure parts of his face. His lips moved, quivering violently as they did so, forming a whispered word. Naruto leaned closer to him, perplexed. He strained his ears to listen.

"I said 'yes', you moron!" Sasuke snapped, the blush on his cheeks returning twofold.

Naruto recoiled from the sudden increase in volume, completely stunned as he held a hand to his ear. Sasuke snatched the ring from his outstretched hand, and slid it onto the designted finger. Then, he held out his hand to the blonde. Naruto passed him the other ring he had been holding in the palm of his hand dumbly—he was still in a state of shock.

Without another word, Sasuke put the second ring on the same finger of Naruto's right hand. Their gazes met, both darkened with desire.

Swooping the trembling body into his arms, he caressed it with butterfly kisses, with light strokes and lingering touches. Reveling in the fact that he had the ability to make Naruto's breath hitch, he began to discard the clothes he had worn in order to collect the mail just now.

He held up two fingers to Naruto's mouth, which earned him a rather dubious look. Even when he glared, Naruto opened his mouth to protest. That was when he shoved his fingers in. The blonde had surprisingly complied with a low rumble after that.

As he began to stretch Naruto, he hissed, feeling bursts of pleasure run up his spine. A rough hand had begun to stroke him. His second glare was met with a mischievous grin, although it was slightly strained from the pain. After a nod of consent, Sasuke held fast onto the tanned hips and slowly eased himself in.

"Ow…! Haa…" Naruto panted, touching his forehead to Sasuke's. "You rarely pin me down. But when you do, it's always kinda hot."

"Hmph." Sasuke furrowed his brow as he tried to focus while the rim of his ear was licked and nibbled on.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room until the proof of desire shot out of their shuddering bodies as they called out each other's names at the same time, white finally clouding their vision.

In the large A4-sized envelope, that seemed to be a prediction of the future, lay a single picture. The back of it was signed 'Fuyuki Tomoko'.

It showed two male models, one tanned and blonde, one fair with dark hair. The former had his locks tousled by the wind, and his designer clothes ruffled. He stared out into the direction of the setting sun—the blazing orange that burned against the deep purple hue of the skies. The latter was in a slightly neater state, though his gaze was directed to the rising moon, steadily illuminating their faces with her subtle glow. They stood almost back-to-back, at the top of a cathedral in Milan. A stray red ribbon played around their profiles. Strangely, both ends had wrapped around the ring finger of each model's right hand.

But maybe, it was not so strange after all.

Rivals.

Enemies.

Friends.

Lovers.

And everything else in between.

Their bond was fated—

Right from the very start.

(1) Japanese hot pot