#accidentally made kisame his bff when i meant it to be another character

[silverfootstepswrites]

Butterfly [26]

summary Happy days, 

“That’ll be 398 yen. Would you like your bento warmed up, sir?”

“Senpai.”

“Yes, sir?”

“....Senpai.”

Sighing, Kakuzu finally lifted his head to stare at the customer. And across the counter stood Itachi, looking understandably concerned. He started.

“Senpai, did you just call me ‘sir’?” asked Itachi.

“I’ve been working since noon, man. Don’t judge me,” Kakuzu grumbled. He turned around to place the container in the microwave. He leaned his elbow on the counter, tugging at the collar of his white shirt. 

“When do you get off?” Itachi inquired. Kakuzu checked his watch.

“An hour?”

“Let’s go get drunk.”

“Hell yeah.”

And exactly an hour and twenty-six minutes later, Kakuzu was chugging down his first beer of the night. The tip of his nose was still bright red from the cold. He smacked his lips and sighed once he drained the glass. Itachi slid another drink over to him, cheek in his hand. 

“So I’m guessing that you still hate your job,” guessed Itachi. 

“With passion. But hey. It pays the rent,” answered Kakuzu. Only then did he shed his parka. 

Itachi raised his glass. “I’ll toast to that,” he remarked. And then Hidan raised his glass too. 

“To paying the fucking rent,” agreed Hidan. They clinked glasses together, glad that the weekend had finally arrived

Unfortunately for Itachi, he had work in the morning. So after a few drinks, he tapped out. He dozed on the bus home and barely made it off at the right stop. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, bone-tired after a long week.

In the morning, Itachi washed up and hurried to catch the bus on time. He walked into the cafe a few minutes before the start of his shift. Securing the ties of his black apron, he started off by starting up the espresso maker. 

The cafe Itachi worked at was small but relatively successful. On weekends, it was busy throughout the day. But during the week, it was never frantic inside. Instead, the business came in waves. 

First, there was the group of blue collar workers picking up some caffeine before an early start to the day. Then came the businessmen and women on the way to the office. Later came the university students looking for a late-morning pick-me-up. Between these waves, the cafe was relatively deserted. 

The manager let Itachi study or work on assignments during these lulls, which was one of the reasons Itachi had chosen to stay at this job. He kept one of his textbooks open on an empty stretch of counter near the espresso machine. Some of his professors raised an eyebrow when he handed in his homework smelling like coffee, but it hadn’t affected his grade yet.

Since the cafe was so close to their university, Itachi saw his classmates pop in throughout the week. Nagato and Konan stopped by for matcha lattes. Nagato was a senior in the middle of his job search. He looked more and more frantic each day. Konan took a moment to wave at Itachi as she followed Nagato out of the cafe. She looked even more stressed about the job search than her boyfriend did. 

Hidan asked for two shots of espresso before his Thursday class.

“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack,” warned Itachi. He rested his elbow on the counter as he watched Hidan gulp the first espresso down like it was a tequila shot. Hidan slammed the paper cup down. He wore sunglasses indoors, fighting against one of his frequent migraines. 

“It’s the only way I can stay awake through that old man’s lecture. If he talks about the ‘eternity of art’ one more time, I’ll gut myself in the middle of the lecture hall,” growled Hidan. Against his better judgment, Itachi got up to pour him another shot of espresso.

“When are we going to meet up this week? We’ve got to work out how we’re going to assemble that big tree piece for our project,” Itachi reminded him. Hidan bared his teeth after he gulped down the rest of the coffee. 

“Tomorrow?” Hidan answered. 

Itachi made Hidan mark it down in his phone before he went to class.

But during that Saturday morning shift, Itachi didn’t recognize anyone who came into the cafe. In fact, he found himself in one of those nice lulls. The only customers in the cafe already had their drinks. It wasn’t his turn to clean the bathroom or to wipe the tables. So he leaned against the counter to take a breather. 

Itachi straightened with the collar of his white uniform shirt. Fixed the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves. Just as he tucked his hair behind his ears, the bell above the door jangled. Cold air blew into the cafe. Sighing, Itachi stood up straight. 

“Welcome,” he said, putting on his retail smile.

“Itachi.”

Itachi’s eyes popped open. “Oh. Father.” A head popped up beside his father’s leg. “And Sasuke.”

Itachi looked around and caught the manager’s gaze. “Is it alright if I take my break?” he inquired. 

So after brewing a caffe latte for his father and a hot chocolate for Sasuke, Itachi settled in the corner booth with them. 

Sasuke hopped into the seat beside their father. His little feet didn’t even begin to touch the ground. When Itachi pushed the cup across the table, Sasuke tried to take a sip of his drink. Instead he covered the tip of his nose in whipped cream. Itachi chuckled. He reached out to wipe Sasuke’s face with a napkin. 

“Nii-san, you made this?” asked Sasuke. His face scrunched up when Itachi rubbed at his nose with the scratchy napkin. Itachi nodded.

“Just for you.”

Sasuke’s face lit up. He tried to drink again and managed to get a gulp. “Yummy!” he declared.

“Itachi.”

Itachi returned his attention back to his father. Fugaku had retired from the police force this year. It felt strange to see him out of his officer’s uniform. Itachi had more memories of his father in the blue outfit than out of it. 

“Have you been well?” Fugaku inquired. 

Itachi nodded before he asked, “Where’s Mom?”

To his surprise, his father reached inside his jacket. He fumbled for a bit as he pulled out his flip phone. Itachi watched Fugaku mutter to himself as he clicked around on the buttons. He scowled when he opened up his settings by accident.

“Otou-san, you have to push this one,” said Sasuke, leaning over. He grasped Fugaku’s wrist to pull his arm down. And he pressed his thumb to the menu button. Sasuke then went back to gulping down his hot chocolate. 

Finally, Fugaku managed to pull up the message he had received earlier that morning. 

“She’s watching the Figure Skating Championships with her friends,” Fugaku declared, holding up the phone for Itachi to see. It was a photo of Mikoto with two of her friends. One of them was holding up a sign that said ‘MANGETSU’ in big, pink letters. Mikoto held up two little Japanese flags, grinning. 

The message underneath read, “Mangetsu just did so well! I think he’s going to win gold!”

Itachi gave a helpless laugh. Fugaku lowered his phone, tucking it back into his pocket.

“Wasn’t Mom just watching figure skating the other day?” Itachi inquired. 

“Apparently that was a Grand-Something? This is nationals. Just for Japanese skaters,” replied Fugaku, shaking his head. 

Then again, Itachi thought, his mother had always been a huge fan of skating. He knew that his father only watched it with her to support her. It was entertaining in its own way. But somehow his mother knew the skaters by name. Even when they landed their jumps, she would groan and exclaim that they ‘popped a jump’ or ‘under-rotated’, whatever that meant. She kept track of all the dates of competitions, too. 

The men of the Uchiha family knew. If there was skating going on somewhere in the world, it would be playing on the little TV in the kitchen. And no one was allowed to change the channel. 

“We dropped Mom off earlier!” Sasuke told Itachi. Itachi wiped more whipped cream off Sasuke’s cheeks. 

“And you kept Father company? Wow, Sasuke. You’re all grown up now,” answered Itachi with a smile. Sasuke nodded.

“You look like you’re doing well. How’s work?” questioned Fugaku. 

“It’s good. It’s harder than I thought it would be. I thought you were exaggerating when you said high school would be the easiest part of my life,” responded Itachi. And then he watched his father’s hand slip into his pocket again.

“Are you doing alright on rent? You’re eating?” Fugaku went on to ask. He pulled his wallet out and began counting out bills. He rolled them up before shoving them into Itachi’s hand.

“I don’t want you to fall behind on your expenses,” Fugaku muttered. 

The back of Itachi’s neck felt a little hot. He tried to push the money back. 

“It’s alright, Father. I’m not starving or anything,” Itachi said. But Fugaku only nudged the money over again. 

“You’re retired now. You should be saving your money,” Itachi insisted. It was pointless, though. Sighing, he accepted the money, tucking it into the pocket of his black pants. 

“Thank you,” he said. Fugaku grunted something, looking away. 

An awkward silence fell over them. It had been a while since they had spoken to each other. The last time had been when Itachi had gone home to celebrate his mom’s birthday. And, as usual, Itachi and Fugaku had gotten into an argument about Itachi’s decision to go to art school. 

And now, Itachi laced his hands together. Recalling how he had shouted at his father not to try to control his life. He looked up when Fugaku cleared his throat. 

“Itachi. I... I don’t want to control you,” Fugaku began. Neither of them could look the other in the eyes. “I just want you to make the right choices. There’s...” Fugaku broke off, letting out a heavy sigh. 

“It’s hard to support yourself on an art degree. You know that, right? And when you start a family, it’ll only get harder.”

Itachi looked down at his hands as he answered: “I do.”

“But this is really what you want to do?”

“It is.”

Another pause. Fugaku tapped his fingers against the tabletop. His wedding band clacked against the wood.

“Then...it’ll take some time. But I’ll try to understand,” declared Fugaku. 

Itachi lifted his head. Unsure whether he had just heard correctly or not. But he found his father look straight at him. A small smile pulling at his lips. Itachi bit the inside of his mouth. He didn’t know what to say in response to something like that. 

Thankfully, Sasuke knew just what to say. 

“Did you make up with Nii-san, Otou-san?” he asked. 

They both looked over at Sasuke. Fugaku ruffled Sasuke’s hair. 

“Yes, we did, Sasuke,” answered Fugaku. 

The conversation was still awkward. Fugaku stuck around for a little longer, asking Itachi about what he was doing. Itachi explained how he and a partner were working on a project. Each semester, dance students at their school participated in an exhibition for their final grade. It was the job of scenography students to design the stage for one of these performances, which then became their final grade. 

“The exhibition is next month. You should come,” Itachi offered.

And even though he could see that his father still didn’t get what he was studying, Fugaku listened to all of this. He nodded before he said, “Alright, Itachi. We’ll be there.”

Fugaku’s phone vibrated. He opened it up and read over the screen. Then he showed Itachi. Mikoto had sent over a video. It was shaky and a little blurry. But it was of a girl with pink hair gliding across the rink. They could hear several voices calling, “Saku!” as she did a lap around. 

“Who’s that?” Itachi inquired. 

“Some new girl that your mother is obsessed with. I can’t tell any of them apart,” sighed Fugaku, leaning back in his seat. Itachi laughed. 

“Me neither.” But then he considered her white and blue outfit. “Her costume’s a pretty color, though,” Itachi added.