I Swear

A/N: *gasp* wasn't expecting it to exceed 5k words!

Warnings: Present tense and First Person

Disclaimer: Naruto and all its characters are the property of Masashi Kishimoto.

That awkward moment when you wake up and you know you're going to have a bad day?

I groan and look down at the tent in my boxers and think about the dream that led to this. Dreaming about Hyuuga Neji – or rather – my ex-boyfriend sucking me off is never a good thing. Especially when it leads to me waking up thinking about him, especially when it leads to problems in my boxers that refuse to go away. Oh god, how I hate mornings like these.

I slap a hand to my forehead and grab my hair to yank them. Then I look down and think about the first thing that can make the problem go away. Coming up with repulsive fiction of imagination was never my forte so I sigh and head for the bathroom coming to face the fact that despite it being January I was going to have to freeze myself in a cold shower.

This is pathetic. I can't help but think about my dream even as the cold water beats down on my back and makes me shiver like a drowned rat. It's not long before my hand is rubbing slow circles around my swollen shaft and a minute later I'm pumping. I take a second to adjust the water to hot (the cold water did nothing to alleviate the tension in my groin anyway) and let my hands give me what my body wants, Neji still stuck in my head like a splashy movie poster.

Remember what I said about bad days?

The worst part about bad days in my life is that, they always start early, which goes on to mean that my bad days always begin from the time I wake up (and I wake up early on such days).

I mean there is a friend of mine who has bad mornings or bad afternoons or just bad experiences! But here I am with bad luck stuck to my forehead for the entire day!

I mean think about it. You have a bad morning but recuperate by the time afternoon rolls around and your day has improved, right? I mean life is like that with everyone but for some reason, just for some reason, it has to be my day, the entire 24 hours that get ruined. Even when I sleep something bad happens (this morning for instance?). I mean why me?

I take a deep breath and think that once for today; just this once only my morning will go bad. Try really, really hard, even close my eyes and look at the heavens silently praying for a miracle, but deep within I know that this day is going to be another nightmare to live through as my drag my feet to the university.

The first day of the new semester, this means new students. For some reason, even though I love my job as a Japanese professor I hate having to deal with new kids. I mean, it's not like I have something against them or anything. It's just the fact that there will be some who will be really interested in studying the subject, kids who know their material and have it all together, some who will be remotely interested and some who were either just dragged into it or couldn't think of anything else to do. It's precisely the last type of students I hate. I know for a teacher I am talking really biased because regardless of their level of interest, they are my students and it is my duty to teach them all. But if you think about it, it is these students, precisely this handful of kids that snigger around and disturb the class. They yell and make noises and are often the ones who swear.

Swear

I have something against people who swear. I don't know what's wrong with the world with everyone throwing dirty words around like it's all the rage and thinking it makes them look cool. As a language teacher, it hurts me to think that there are people around who walk like they own the planet all the while littering the sacred and serene atmosphere of the university with uncouth and ugly words. Maybe a bit of it could be blamed at my upbringing. Being an Uchiha means you have the perfect upbringing. Your father acts like a beacon of light providing you with the best in everything. So maybe the "street language" (as he calls it) never appealed to me.

It rained the previous night so the roads have all got wet patches and the potholes are filled with water. I step out of the car and carefully make my way to the entrance gate of the university avoiding the holes and every bit of water from getting on my formal trousers. Just After reaching the gates of the university successfully without getting a drop of water on my trousers, I thank my stars that despite the bad day, my pants are in good condition. I am just about to step in when –

Spoken too soon…

A bright orange Converse sneaker lands heavily in the puddle of water beside me, splashing my formal trousers with disgusting muddy water. And that's not all. The next second, the culprit has the guts to open his mouth wide and scream "Fuck!"

Oh now I am mad!

I turn towards him and before I can open my mouth and say a word the culprit – a boy with shaggy blond hair that are so long that they almost cover his eyes – shoots me a quick look and says, "Sorry about that," and runs away.

It takes me one complete minute to realize that the guy did not look at me in the face, another minute to realize that he said it out of reflex and the third to know that I'm still standing at the entrance gate with my mouth slack open and staring at his quickly vanishing orange clad back.

Hastily I shut my mouth and with as much of dignity as I can muster, I make my way to my office.

See what I'm talking about in terms of delinquents?

Once I reach my office in the sorest of moods, I quickly look at my watch and know that I have five minutes to arrange and gather all my notes for the first class and also grab a cup of coffee on the way. I look down at my trousers and grimace at the muddy patch left behind by the quickly drying water and wish I'd kept a spare pair of clothing in one of the storage cupboards.

Maybe I'll get a pair. I make a mental note to get an extra pair of clothing as I rearrange all the notes I have. My first class is (unfortunately) with the first year students so there's not much of study material I'll require. After all, today I just have to give them the basic outline of the course and all that we'll be touching upon throughout the semester. The basic etiquette demands that I interact with them and maybe ask them to introduce themselves but never have I been one to follow the laws of social etiquette and never will I follow them. For me, what really matters is that the student works his way into the teacher's mind. So I want to remember a student on the basis of how much they know and how well they do in my subject at the term papers. Acknowledgement is the key for me.

Yeah, that's the kind of teaching method I follow.

Just as I am about to leave my office for a cup of the much needed coffee, it strikes me (as I once again look down at my soiled pants) that this blond kid is someone whom I will never forget.

Never

People call me stuck-up and I've heard from the assistant professors about how much my students fear (and hate) me, but that's the way I am because I know that no matter what happens there will always be students who hate you, students who respect you and students who wish to be you. As for me, my job is to impart knowledge to the best of my abilities and I shall do that. Take it or leave it.

I walk briskly to the wending machine, stick a coin the slot, press the option for the black, sugarless coffee I prefer and nod absently to a couple of faculty members and students alike, I cannot help but think about that stupid blond guy who splashed the muddy water on my pants.

Is he a student here? Even though I did not look at him for more than a second, I think he is a quite young. Well young enough to be a student. This makes me wonder what course he is in. Considering how lost and stupid he looked, he has to be a good-for-nothing idiot who must have enrolled in some easy course. Inwardly I shrug and roll my eyes as I carefully pull out the Styrofoam cup from the machine and stare at my coffee with something akin to awe in my eyes.

Oh! How much I've needed you!

I bring the cup closer to my mouth and just as my tongue seeps out to greet the bitter liquid; out of nowhere an elbow comes and collides with my coffee sending the cup spiraling out of control with its contents spilling everywhere.

"What the – "

"Holy shit! Fuck!"

My first reaction is to jump in pain and wince as the hot coffee trails down my white work shirt and practically scalds my skin. Quickly I push the material away from the body to avoid further skin damage and then I turn to glare at the person who dared to do this to me.

Orange Converse sneakers, blue jeans with an orange t-shirt and the same shaggy blond hair - the same boy who murdered my trousers and has now killed my shirt. I force myself to take a deep breath praying for patience and just as I open my mouth to speak, the boy jerks his head and blows at his blond bangs.

Whatever breath I was holding leaves me in a whoosh and my heart begins beating with a tandem that I wish to clutch my chest just to make sure it doesn't pop out of it. Blue…the color of his eyes is blue. Not the cliché baby-blue that most foreigners have, but a bright shocking electric blue that has the potential to make sparks run through your nerves and render you…thoughtless.

I stand there stupefied just staring at the wonder that is his eyes unmindful of the fact that he ruined my trousers a while back, that he ruined my shirt right this very moment. How, I wonder, how can someone's eyes be so beautiful?

His eyes first display shock as they look down at my damaged shirt, then horror as he realizes it is his doing and then apology as he looks into my eyes and tries to convey the message without words.

How can someone's eyes be so beautiful and so expressive?

He opens his mouth and out darts a tongue to wet pink chapped lips before a set of straight white teeth become visible. They take the juicy part of the boy's lower lip and trap it between themselves. The boy pulls it out then and speaks.

"I'm sorry."

His voice brings in the realization that for the past god-knows-what-length-of-time I've just been staring at him, along with the realization that is voice has a supremely erotic husk to it, and the realization that I am still incapable of thought. All I am capable of doing is staring at this moment and I don't have the will or the power to look away. Speaking is the last thing on my mind and all I can do is nod stupidly at him and watch my left hand (which is free from holding the cup) make a vague gesture.

I watch stupefied as the boy bows in apology once again and then turns around to leave.

"Your name." I hear myself whisper. "What is your name?"

The pink tongue darts out again to wet those sinful lips which I have an overwhelming urge to bite and kiss and trace with my own lips till I know the taste, the texture, the feel by heart.

"Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto."

Never has a name had such a melodic feel to it.

I watch with a pang in my heart as he turns around still looking apologetic and shoots me a small smile. "I'm really sorry about your shirt. Fuck, I should have been more careful." With that, he bows again and walks away.

I watch him go and for the first time in my life wish he'd swear again.

For how long I stand there holding the crushed paper cup in my hand staring at the direction Naruto took, I don't know. All I know is that, a bell goes off somewhere and with it comes the realization that I have class this very moment. I hastily look down at my damaged shirt and curse under my breath. By now, my thoughts have pretty much become stable and I wince when I think about the way I reacted when Naruto was talking to me.

Naruto

Just thinking about the name makes me want to grab my chest and tell my heart to stop beating so fast. How is it possible that just taking his name in my head makes my heart want to pop out of my mouth? How is it possible that just thinking about those blue eyes makes me long like a love struck girl? How is it possible that this guy who just swore has the potential to rob me of all sane thoughts?

It's a tap on my shoulder that jars me out of my reverie and I quickly turn around to stare (okay glare) at the person who disturbed me of my thoughts of Naruto. It's Sai, the art professor and one of my closest friends here in the university.

"Is everything alright?" Sai asks, smiling at me like he always does. Fake, like someone painted it on his face.

I shrug his hand away and straighten myself, moving to dispose of the now empty Styrofoam cup still present in my hands. I turn around only to see him frown as he takes in my coffee-stained shirt.

This is mortifying.

"Sasuke," is all he says as he pointedly stares at my shirt. I grab his shoulder and turn him around before anyone else sees me in this mess. As it is I have a reputation to uphold here and I'd rather die than have someone see me like this.

"Just some stupid person bumped into me and dropped my coffee." What am I saying? Stupid? Did I just call Naruto stupid?

Sai nods as we move towards my office. "C'mon, I'll give you a fresh shirt."

I nod in gratitude and Sai goes to fetch me a new shirt.

Sai maybe a complete asshole for most of the times but at least he can be a friend when I need one.

I grimace and study my soiled shirt again.

Maybe bad days have something good attached to them as well?

The first years this year are the same as always.

I close my eyes momentarily to ward off the impeding headache as yet another girl raises her arm to ask me a question. I shouldn't have asked them if they had doubts after I finished explaining the course structure. Of course they'd have doubts! They always do. They think this place is like school where teachers are nothing but your friends who have all the time in the world to go through all your doubts one by one and the girls take it for granted that they can befriend the hot teacher by acting all airheaded and clueless.

Some teachers even fall for their ploy and explain stuff like those bunch of kids are three year olds. But like hell I'll fall for this trick!

"Yes," I squelch the urge to sigh and thank my upbringing as an Uchiha that I can school my facial expressions into one of nonchalance and avoid the glare that I wish to give her. "What is it?"

"Sensei," she says making it sound like a purr as she runs a hand through her pink hair, "Do you give remedial classes to those who don't do well?"

Oh yes, the most obvious question that is asked by batches and batches of students here like a hand-me-down.

"No," I say trying to make my voice sound as curt as I can. Haruno Sakura, the girl with the perfect score will obviously need remedial lessons. I had heard about her from the psychology professor Hatake Kakashi when I coming to the class. I saw the moon-eyed looks she was giving me when I entered the class and that had done nothing but prove the knowledge right that once again I was going to have to deal with a bunch of useless kids. "I don't teach remedial classes, but I'm sure you'll be able to make good use of Professor Genma. He's always willing to help students who are in need." She looks disappointed and I can't help but smirk inwardly.

"Won't you be willing to make an exception?"

Excuse me?

"No." She looks disappointed and bats her eyelashes at me as if hurt by my answer. Like I give a care in the world!

Sometimes I hate the fact that most people find me so good looking. Is it a crime to have inherited the "dark Uchiha looks"? I mean, my brother Itachi has also got the same set of dark eyes and what is known as the "Uchiha charm" but from the way I see it, no one goes around drooling over his good looks at the Konoha High School where he teaches math.

Why? Why me?

The classes seem to stretch forever and I patiently wait for the bell to ring. The first year students have asked me enough questions today to make my head buzz and it has taken all I've got to prevent myself from hurling a book at them. As for my old and trustworthy students, the delinquents have once again succeeded in getting on my bad side and I'm just thinking that they'd better start praying for a miracle to pass this semester because if they don't give me what I expect in my term papers, I won't hesitate to fail them. Honestly, the university is better off without them. They and their ridiculous swearing.

Finally, the bell rings signaling lunch time and I am just gathering my books to walk out of the class when I see an orange clad Converse sneaker in my peripheral vision.

All the disappointment I had felt when I had walked into the class and not noticed any orange in it vanishes in an instant.

I look up willing my heart to slow down while anticipation runs through my veins like water. Sure enough those blue eyes hidden by veils of blond look back at me.

"Um," he takes his lower lip into his mouth again and I have to practically physically restrain myself from wanting to reach out and grab the abused muscle with my thumb, to pull it towards my teeth and take a bite, to run my tongue over and over it till I am satisfied, to suck on it till it is a swollen mess and screams of being taken. I want to taste those lips so bad. He looks up as he releases the lip from its cage of teeth and tongue. "Professor Uchiha, I'm sorry I did not introduce myself when we first met. It's just that all those accidents kept happening and fuck – I'm such a klutz."

I nod not trusting my voice to come out.

Apparently he takes that as a sign of the 'go-ahead' because he smiles, a shocking revelation of even white teeth that just make my blood pressure drop below zero and for a second I almost feel faint. He tucks his hands into his jeans pockets and then realizes he's going to have to need them as he pushes one forward for a handshake. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto, assistant professor in the Art department."

Are you kidding me? The person I'd been referring to as a kid is actually an assistant professor?

I look down at his hand taking in the texture and length of it, watching numbly as my own hand rises from my side to grasp it. The contact which follows runs through my entire being and the faint feeling returns with a renewed energy.

Introduce yourself! A feverish chant ensues inside my head.

"Uchiha Sasuke, head professor Japanese department." He smiles and my heart does a flip.

"Look, I really wanted to apologize about ruining your shirt and trousers. I mean fuck seriously? Could I have been blinder? Okay I admit it was my fault that I was late for my first day as an assistant professor but my shitty alarm clock didn't go off and then that ass for my best friend refused to give me a ride like he'd promised earlier and then I fucking couldn't see the puddle because I was too busy getting to the university and then before I knew it my stupid sneaker had landed in the damned puddle that had just had to be there." He holds up a hand when I open my mouth to tell him to take a breath. "And then the worse that could happen happened." He rolls his eyes in exasperation, an expression I find sinfully endearing for some reason. "I banged into you and spilled coffee all over your clothes." Another distracted hand through his hair with a slight tug at the end as if frustrated with it or himself. "I mean does this fucking make sense?" He throws out a hand and for some reason my hand twitches to take it.

"Many things don't make sense Naruto." For some reason my voice has turned husky and my eyes have half closed themselves as they focused on those electric blue ones of Naruto. "But it's okay because they don't have to make sense."

My hand finds his, finally giving into the twitchy need to touch it and he looks down at it shock blowing the pupils wider. I watch my hand that had taken his in its own snake its way up his wrist, fingers delicate yet at the same time screaming of their presence. I know it because I've felt every slight tremor that flows through him, every little jolt the muscles give involuntarily.

Oh God! What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? Why isn't he stopping me?

I watch in some kind of a horrified ecstatic glee as my hand comes to rest at his nape, my fingers playing with the hair there. His eyes are looking at me – a little lost, a little wary and aroused, very thoroughly aroused. And all I've done is trail a hand up his sleeve to his neck. His mouth, those sinful lips are parted slightly and I know he's breathing through them trying to make sense of what is happening, trying to piece it together so that he can know what I want, so that he can figure out what the hell is happening.

"How will you make it up to me?" I ask my voice low with the same husky timbre attached to it.

His eyes are slightly glazed as he hungrily stares at my lips. "Make up for what?"

I raise an eyebrow at him amazed at the confidence I can emit when all inside me I'm a complete mess of feelings and emotions. "You have to make up for ruining my clothes," which apparently was the wrong thing to say.

The next second Naruto breaks the magical moment by screaming, "Fuck! I totally forgot about that."

Shit

He backs away and runs another hand through his hair. "Listen," he looks up at me and sighs, "I promise to get your clothes laundered. You could just give me your address and I could have them dropped at your place or something."

It's only the fact that I am a little out of sorts by my previous behavior and that my cheeks are tingling that I do not do anything embarrassing like moan at the loss of contact. I know my gaze is still lingering on him in that longing manner because that's what my head is screaming at the moment but I guess Naruto has used this moment quite well to polish his thoughts together and draw them in a straight line.

"I don't need that." I want to smile at the way I can practically read the thoughts racing through his brain. They are all there, right there in those expressive blue eyes.

"Then?" he sounds so confused, I almost have the urge to grin outright but being the Uchiha that I am, I bite down the urge and just gaze into those beautiful eyes instead.

Shit! I'm beginning to like his eyes more than I should!

My heart is soaring crazily and the little bit of red is still there on my cheeks, heating them up and the tips of my fingers are still tingling pleasantly from where they've held Naruto's hands, touched his wrist, felt the hair that tease his nape and all those tremors that had been coursing through his body when I touched him.

I clear my throat and with courage I didn't know I was capable of, I whisper, "A lunch."

If anything, he looks even more confused and this time those expressive blue skies turn stormy in their confusion. "I'm sorry Professor Uchiha, I don't understand -" he trails off, a little hesitant to ask me what this is.

I don't know whether to pen him down as someone innocent to the point of being naïve or just downright dumb. The courage that was running through my veins like fine wine suddenly stands strained and I find myself reevaluating my idea of asking him out for a meal.

Am I being too hasty? What the hell? I'm just asking him asking for his company for one meal! It's not like I'm asking him out or anything. If he's going overboard in his thinking of the matter, it just goes on to mean that we're thinking along the same lines, aren't we?

I don't answer immediately, too caught up in my own thoughts to clear the air and give him an answer. So he just lets my invitation roll in his head a little bit before the realization strikes him.

I know it's hit him because at once he stills and his beautiful and expressive eyes just go wider than normal as a new thought enters them. It's almost comical, how animated his entire being is.

"Are you asking me to take you for lunch as a compensation for dirtying your clothes?" he raises one blond eyebrow and despite his expressive attitude, I can't quite tell if the emotion lurking in those blue eyes is one of relief, amusement or disgust. Internally I pray for either amusement or relief. I nod as his eyebrow goes higher up in inquiry.

"Fair enough," he says nodding and placing one of his hands in his jeans pocket. He smiles, a little slow, a little hesitant and a little challenging and I can't help but give him one of the best Uchiha smirks in return. I love the way my smirk makes his eyes glint in amusement. God, I'm beginning to love this more than I should!

"Where to?" he asks as he pulls out something from his pocket and turns towards the door. With his back to me I can't make out what it is that he has in his hands, but judging from the way his head is bent as he studies whatever it is that's in his hand as we make our way out of the class makes me think of a cell phone so I assume that he's sending someone a text message or probably checking his email.

For some reason, I hope it's neither.

I'm finally beginning to think that today my prayer has finally been answered and I was just cursed with a bad morning. I mean, I now have a tiny crush on an assistant professor with gorgeous blue eyes so it really can't be all that bad, right? I mean maybe this entire morning was supposed to be a blessing in disguise?

Naruto turns around when he is finally done with whatever it was that he was gazing at so studiously in his hands and sure enough, he pockets the cell phone as he waits for me to catch up so that we can walk together. It's not like we were walking miles apart but maybe he too wants to walk beside me rather than maintaining that weird "new teacher and colleague façade".

Just thinking about the fact that he might see me as a friend makes me…happy. Actually, it makes my heart soar to an unexpected height and I really find myself backtracking in terms of this newfound relationship. But then again, I'm single now so what's the big deal about finding myself a hot new catch?

Oh and talking about my single life, I'm walking beside Naruto discussing about a nearby Subway store for a quick bite when I spot Neji going towards the administrative building. Honestly the thought that I could be with someone as fickle minded as Neji still irks me, but then at the time we started out in a relationship, we were both pretty early in our careers and ambitious. The reason why we started dating was because we were so similar. That lust for power, the same want for acknowledgement from family and friends drove us into believing that we needed each other. The sex was just the underling, a fulfilling obligation to the relationship we shared. Sometimes I still think that the physical attraction emerged from the knowledge that we were both so similar to each other.

But now that I think about it, too much of similarity kills the relationship. I mean think about it this way: You both like the same type of sex – hard and fast or you're both anti-social and because of that you don't talk much. I mean there comes a point of time in your relationship when the silence hanging in between gets on your nerves. When the last thing you want to come home to is a man who wants to have his meal at the fancy restaurant that you both generally frequent, then a quick fuck and then you both go into the study of your shared apartment to work on your next papers.

Similarity is boring.

And then when we broke up, all he did was frown a little darkly as he worked on removing an invisible speck of lint from his immaculately tailored dark trousers and swished his long brown hair back, his lilac eyes boring into mine all the while as if expecting me to crack into a smile and tell him, it was my idea of a dumb joke. It wasn't and I didn't smile. So finally, all he said was, "Fine, if that's what you want."

We broke up. And apparently I ended up on the wrong side of the breakup because I am the one who wakes up with morning wood and dreams of Neji sucking me off.

I shake my head as I break my gaze from his figure and instead turn my entire attention to the expressive blue eyes of the blond man walking beside me, still discussing the cons of eating Western food with cheese in it.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" I ask raising an eyebrow when he refuses to listen to my earlier comment on there are Subways that have no cheese.

He looks up and I can almost see his hesitation before he bites his lip and looks at me sheepishly. "Can we grab some ramen?" he asks.

Ramen?

"Any particular place you'd like to go to?" I ask not really in the mood to ruin this little bond that I've built with this blond man.

He beams, an almost childish smile plays on his face making him look younger than he previously looked and then he says with a voice gone hoarse in awe, "Ichiraku's."

Ichiraku is perhaps the oldest ramen store in Konoha and apparently Naruto's favorite as the look of awe stays on his face.

"How old are you?" I ask before I can stop myself.

He looks up sharply as if I burst his happy Ichiraku bubble with a needle. It makes me wince inwardly when I notice a different look entering his eye. We've almost reached the entrance of the university and I can see the accursed (or blessed?) pothole still filled with a little muddy water that Naruto splashed and brought us together.

"Twenty-four, why?" his tone has a defensive quality and now I can name the different emotion that had entered his eye when I asked him this question.

I smile as I look down at my muddy pants no longer minding the stain which glares back at me from the hem. I know the reason why he's suddenly so defensive. "You don't look it." I really don't want him to misunderstand me when I talk about his age as soon as the topic of ramen is mentioned. I want him to know that I don't think of him as a kid. Not anymore, at least.

"Thanks I guess?" his tone doesn't loosen up into one of ease that he was using previously and I'm quite sure he still hasn't figured out what I meant when I said that.

I stop and turn towards him, giving him no choice but to stop as well. He turns towards me as if sensing that whatever it is that I'm about to say is important.

I lick my lips suddenly quite unsure about how I should go around telling him what I think without offending him or worse insulting him.

"What I mean to say is," I run a hand through my hair. Shit, this is more difficult than I thought it would be. "You look younger than your age."

"I caught that from your earlier comment." Naruto's voice betrays nothing, neither anger nor hurt nor amusement. His eye too are bland, almost as if the sky was coerced into clearing away it's light and clouds. "So, what about it?"

I lick my lips again unsure of whether I want to continue. "I think that's -"

"Do you think I'm a kid?" his tone is almost accusatory almost as if he's made up his mind about what I think of him and now he's stuck with the knowledge that I think he's a kid.

"No." I say because that's the truth.

He nods, his expression changing again, a small smile appearing as if someone gave him permission to put his little sun and clouds back in those skies he has for eyes. We resume walking and just as we're making the turn for Ichiraku's, he turns towards me that same small smile playing around his lips and says "I'm beginning to really like you, Sasuke."

My heart stops. My feet stop. My brain stops. He says it very casually and I know he is not saying that in the context I'm thinking of, but still hearing something like that can make any man's heart stop. At least, one who is becoming a little too fond of those expressive blue eyes and I cannot help the smile that blooms across my face almost involuntarily.

"Thanks I guess?" I say as casually and flippantly as possible and it earns a nod from him as we step into the traditional eating hall with low tables and Naruto casually raises an arm and greets the owner.

"How old are you anyway?" he asks with another challenging glint in his eyes.

"Twenty-nine." He seems unperturbed for he does not comment and I'm glad for that.

Age is just a number anyway.

He orders Miso and I order Udon. We sit and wait for what seems like thirty seconds before the bowls containing our orders are in front of us. It's really amazing! I mean the last time I was here, I had to wait for what seemed like hours to get a free stool and then my order arrived like thirty minutes after I'd placed it.

Apparently, connections are important here.

Naruto, it seems, likes ramen a tad too much. He slurps down his bowl in what seems like twenty seconds and is already asking for seconds while I'm just blowing on my ramen and waiting for them to cool so that I can eat without burning my tongue.

"So," Naruto says as he takes a sip of his tea and adjusts his legs under him, "what made you turn into a language professor?"

I consider his question as I slurp my noodles. Honestly, I never really thought about it. Japanese is my mother tongue and it came to me as easily as mother tongues do and before I knew it, I had picked up the habit of reading books and mangas and then during High School my literature professor, a wizened old man called Sarutobi had made me fall in love with it.

"Just fell in love with the language, I guess?" he nods as if understanding as he takes his chopsticks again when his bowl is placed in front of him.

"I can relate." He says after a mouthful of noodles. How he can manage to swallow such hot noodles is beyond me. He looks up and there's a faraway look in his eyes and I know he's thinking about what made him fall in love with arts and take it up to become a teacher. "It was Professor Sai who made me fall in love with art, really."

I lean forward now suddenly inclined to know more. Maybe it was the knowledge that he was talking about a man I knew only too well that caught my interest or the fact that Naruto suddenly had a very interested look in his eye that was a little unsettling, but I wanted to know more.

"I was in my first year as an art student here when I saw – no – when I stumbled across one of his works for the first time." He looks at me as he takes another bite of his ramen, a mysterious smile around his lips and I have a sudden urge to kiss it off. I have to hear the rest. The pause is driving me crazy.

"And?" I say when he pauses for too long.

"Tell me something Sasuke, have you ever fallen madly in love?"

The question catches me off-guard and now I really have a wild urge to snap at him and get on with his story before it drives me insane. "No."

"Well I did," he whispers softly and puts down his chopsticks to take a sip of his tea. "My eyes just happened to fall on it and I was in love. It was -" he takes another frustrating slow sip of tea, "madness personified." He looks at me for understanding but my mind is a complete blank. Frankly, I am no connoisseur of art but I can appreciate a decent piece when I see one. However, abstract terms do not do justice enough to form an opinion so I really can't say that I understand what Naruto is talking about.

He looks at his hands, a mad gleam entering his eye as if he can see the picture in his mind's eye and tell me about it. "It was as if Professor Sai had painted his soul out there." He finally whispered and the gleam in his eyes changed into one of admiration and something so profound that it made my chest tighten in nervous anticipation.

"You fell in love?" I ask. I didn't mean the painting and he knew it.

He smiles a slow wistful smile which talks about his naivety. Quietly he nods.

I can feel my heart sinking. It's like disappointment is etched into my every bone and I just quietly stare at my forgotten Udon ramen and my rapidly cooling tea.

"Initially it was the painting, but the more I saw it the more I saw Professor Sai's soul in it and before I realized, I was looking at him in a new light and thinking about him more than I thought was healthy. Fuck! It's crazy!" He laughs and resumes eating his noodles as if the conversation we're having is no more than talking about the weather.

It hurts. More than it should, more than I want it to, more than I can take. But I have to know what he thinks now. "And now?" I ask as I pick my chopsticks just to do something with my hands and my eyes so that I can evade the searing gaze of those piercing, expressive blue eyes.

He looks up and catches my gaze before I can look away and I will every emotion to leave my eyes. "Now what?"

By now I've switched to the casual mode. You still crazy about him, eh?" I ask keeping my tone as light as possible.

He laughs and rubs his nose, a gesture of nervousness I assume. "Nah!" He makes a vague gesture with his left hand as his right hand scoops up some more noodles from his bowl. "Got over him ages ago!"

The tight rope that was unconsciously coiled up in my abdomen loosens itself and I find myself dipping my chopsticks into my bowl again.

A chance, I have a chance.

I smile as I slurp a mouthful of my rapidly turning soggy noodles.

It's crazy the way my thoughts are running loose right now. I mean I have always been one to be in-charge of all the things in my life, to ensure that everything stayed in either black or white with no scope of anything in the twilight zone and here I am in a restaurant that sells ramen with a man five years younger than me talking about a close friend that this man was head over heels about and my thoughts are turning quick-silver.

The feelings that this man is evoking in me are just so…maddening that they're taking me on a rollercoaster ride.

Is this the reason people always seek partners who are opposite to them? Because there's going to be spontaneity, a mixture of closeness and space, a sense of change that my relationship with Neji craved?

Don't get me wrong. I'm not one who gets hung-over past relationships and refuses to let go of his partner. It's just that the complexity of that relationship (or lack thereof) which just makes me wonder if the outcome is going to be the same with other people too.

Naruto has gone into a monolog of his first class as an assistant professor and I can't help but love the way he narrates the tale of how he almost got mistaken to be a student and this one student kept demanding at him to quit with the jokes and call the teacher.

Am I rooting for a relationship here? I mean Naruto's cool and funny and just everything that was missing from my life with Neji but I am not really sure about what I want as I smile when he goes into this story of how embarrassed he was when they first had their nude model class.

Will I be able handle it? I'm not sure if this relationship will not be similar to the one I had with Neji. I mean as compared to Neji, Naruto gives off these energetic vibes and so far he has been the one to keep the conversation going while I have just basked in the presence of his sunny smile and enjoyed myself more than I think is right.

Is it okay to compare him to Neji? I frown internally realizing that all along I've been thinking about Naruto and Neji in the same line, but hey, your past experiences are likely to control your experience of the future because what you learnt in the past is going to come back to you – to learn, to change, edit. So it only makes sense that one must look back at their past experiences and lear –

It happens so suddenly that I don't have the time to think. Naruto just leans forward and kisses me. Right in the middle of the traditional eating hall while we're sitting on one of those low tables with other people eating on other low tables and he's not even shy or embarrassed!

"Sometimes Sasuke, you've got to fuck thinking and just go with the flow." He winks and resumes eating his ramen.

And for the second time that day, I wish he'd swear some more.

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