Author: Rasengan22

Note: Before you throw things at me for starting a new multi-chapter fic. This is my fourth out of five giftfics I owe, and I have four chapters of this done (which is why I haven't updated anything in like 2 weeks), and probably won't start anything else until I finish writing the rest. After this is complete, I will finish writing chapter 7 of OOMH and be updating 10 dates more regularly until it's finished. When that's done, I'll update Spring Break with its last chapter, and hopefully work on the fifth and final giftfic. -_- Then who knows as OOMH is ongoing and will be long, and I suppose I have other little fics to complete.

Bidness: So thank you for your patience and your continued support through reviews, favs, alerts, PMs, LJ notes, etc... Oh, also, thank you to Memorie for the "Everything Comes Full Circle" fanart. The ninth audio chapter for Talk to Me was recently e-mailed to me. You can find that on my LJ somewhere (there's a link to it on the page that has all my fic giftart on it). Thanks to mandarinsbutterfly for getting my head out of my ass while I've been writing this and starfreckled for the inspiring icons. Glasses! Everyone shall have glasses!

For Carola-chan, who requested a simple phone convo, but I was too stubborn to do that, so from my guilt, I will still one day give TTM a chapter 11 before I die or retire. xD

It was the beginning of the winter semester at the University of Missouri. Sure, the city of Columbia was beautiful in the Spring, Summer, and even the Fall with its lush leaves, stunning bluffs and amicable temperatures. Yet, the only good thing about winter was how beautiful the snow made the campus grounds. Especially the quad. The pristine, perfect canvas that blanketed the grass and covered the base of the six famous concrete columns. The way the tiny, unobtrusive flakes fell and fluttered in the wind in front of the massive structure that was Jesse Hall, its white-covered dome awe-inspiring as it imposed upon the dreary gray sky.

“Naruto!” the female classmate at his side urgently hissed, attempting to gain his attention.

Bemusedly, Naruto heard the loud whisper and felt the insistent pokes at his shoulder. Jarred out of his seasonal ponderings, he glanced away from the unfettered windows and the falling snow to see Sakura mouthing something he couldn’t quite hear just as a rolled up piece of paper hit him square in the middle of his forehead. In front of him stood his teacher, Sasuke Uchiha.

It’s not like Sasuke was a real professor. Just another guy who thought he was the shit because he was studying to get his Ph.D. in creative writing and classic literature. As far as Naruto was concerned, a real writer didn’t need to get a Ph.D. in order to prove he could be a respected and published author.

It also didn’t help that the bastard was his age and had already received his bachelor’s and master’s. He was one of those types.

Naruto stared up at Sasuke innocently; Sasuke glared at him with contempt. Naruto smiled serenely and tilted his chair back, causing Sasuke’s intimidating scowl to deepen.

Obviously irritated, Sasuke plucked off the gold-framed, very stylish pair of glasses he wore and rubbed the lens against the side of his neatly pressed, tan (probably from Banana Republic) khakis. “Since you seemed so deep in thought, Mr. Uzumaki, maybe you can explain to Kiba the importance of James Joyce’s use of cultural expressions and symbols in his work when the rest of the world might not have the ability to appreciate their meaning?”

Ah. James Joyce. They were supposed to have read “The Dead” in order to discuss it in class today.

Naruto set his chair aright. He shot a glance at Kiba, who was sitting at a desk across from him. For whatever reason, all the desks in this particular room in Middlebush had been put together in a circle. Supposedly, it made it easier for discussion. Kind of like group therapy.

Sasuke smirked, apparently hoping to catch Naruto off guard since he presumably assumed his student hadn’t been paying attention. “It seems Kiba believes that kind of approach alienates certain readers. What do you have to say about that?”

With a cocky air, Naruto grinned and set his folded arms on top of the desk, speaking very casually, “Well, I’d have to say that the cultural references James Joyce uses in his short stories are what makes his stories so special. Sure, he left the country, but he never abandoned it. His Irish heritage, his background… they were all important to him. I’d say he loved Ireland and he expressed his affection for it, simply by using certain terms or historical references that would be more familiar to the Irish…” Naruto smirked and shrugged his shoulders as he glanced around at his fellow classmates. “Or history majors, I guess.”

A few people in the class laughed, causing Naruto‘s grin to widen even further.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes as Naruto tapped a pencil against his desk lazily. Naruto winked at Sakura and gave her a wide, arrogant smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled back nonetheless at his antics. A thoughtful murmur from Sasuke pulled Naruto’s attention back to his teacher.

“So you’re saying that it’s okay for an author to alienate people for selfish and biased purposes? Forcefully pandering their countries or hometowns, cultures or religions onto clueless readers? How is it not hypocritical, since, as you pointed out, Joyce left Ireland for other parts of Europe. Don’t you think it’s a show of insincerity when one pines for something they gave up so easily and voluntarily?”

“Hell no!” Naruto shouted, then realizing he had said that rather loudly and unexpectedly, glanced around the room apologetically. He calmed himself in order to answer, “The only thing I see is that it’s an indication of his passion, y’know? To love something so much that it basically has been absorbed into your blood and your being and it’s so inextricably connected to who you are that you can’t breathe, can’t write without it transferring from your self into your words. I think it’s amazing. I think he knowingly chose to do it. Besides, why should a real author care about what other people think? People read because they wanna know different perspectives on matters. If they wanted to read stuff that says exactly what they think, why don’t they just keep a diary and read it every night rather than reading real books, ones that offer different perspectives on matters they otherwise wouldn‘t be able to grasp or understand?”

A couple more people laughed at him, startled at Naruto’s sudden almost fanatical outburst. Even Sakura and Kiba looked surprised. Naruto clamped his mouth shut and bit on his lip, fidgeting in his seat under the scrutiny. The class waited, wondering what Sasuke’s response would be and probably expecting him to disagree and point out Naruto’s stupidity and naïveté.

But surprisingly, Sasuke nodded, and his frown transformed into a satisfied smirk. A smirk that indicated Sasuke was very pleased with Naruto’s response.

“I agree,” Sasuke said. “I think you very eloquently and passionately explained the importance of Joyce’s characteristics and attention he pays to his culture. He could have written anything, but he chose to make Ireland his muse, never forsaking it. When a writer finds something he is passionate about, I think if he’s intelligent at all… he’ll hold onto it, treasure it, and long to share its beauty with others, painting a picture of its worth in the most realistic, most humble and respectful way he or she can.”

Naruto tried not to grin at the compliment. It was said Sasuke rarely complimented anyone. In fact, Naruto had tried to transfer out of the class when he’d found out just who his teacher would be, but not only were the other advanced writing classes full… Naruto had discovered… he liked the idea of a challenge. He thought he was a pretty good writer himself. He didn’t want some teacher who was going to blow smoke up his ass and give him an easy A simply because he knew how to use spellcheck. He actually wanted to improve, to learn, and be challenged.

By the time he could think clearly, Naruto realized Sasuke had moved on to the announcement of their next writing assignment. So much for another clever retort that would have had the class laughing. But since when did he care about whether some teacher liked him or not anyway? Loads of his professors since he’d been going to the university had hated his guts!

At the end of class, Sakura nudged Naruto in the ribs. “What was all that about? Are you trying to get yourself on Sasuke’s shit list already? He could fail you, you know!”

Naruto shrugged. “He didn’t sound that upset to me. I’d say he was impressed with my brilliance.” He glanced toward Sasuke, who was sitting at one of the larger desks detached from the students’ circle of tables. Two rather excitable girls and one sloppily dressed guy had gone over to talk to their teacher about the assignment as if he hadn’t just explained it in detail.

“Whatever." Sakura gathered up her notebook and paperback copy of Dubliners. She stuffed them in her professional-looking black messenger bag. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I heard Sasuke really takes literature and writing seriously. He’ll get pissed at you if you don’t pay attention and crack jokes all the time.”

He hadn’t brought a notebook or his copy of the book since he’d left them in the back of his car, and somehow misplaced his car keys during the previous weekend after a party at Kiba’s duplex.

“Hey, I do, too, pay attention,” Naruto complained, moderately offended. Even if Sakura did know him pretty well since they’d been good friends since meeting in a lit class his sophomore year.

“Uh huh,” Sakura placated, swinging the bag onto her shoulder after putting on her dark blue peacoat. “I still think you should be careful.”

“Pfft.” Naruto waved her concern away with his hand. “What’s so special about his opinion anyway? It’s not like he’s anything great. I haven’t even read his stuff.”

“That’s because you’re lazy.”

“Well, we can’t all be perfect,” Naruto returned with an impish grin. He got up from his chair and wormed his way into his puffy, blue and white jacket. He nudged Sakura with his elbow. “Say, wanna give me a ride home?”

“Ugh,” Sakura groaned, pulling on her fingerless red mittens. Naruto had left his own gloves in his locked car.

“I owe ya,” Naruto told her as he walked out of the room at her side, both chatting as they marched down the crowded stairwell, taking care to avoid colliding with all the other students.

----------

A couple unremarkable days later, Sakura dropped by his rather cramped downtown studio apartment wanting to work on the writing assignment together.

“Why don’t you have it started yet?” Sakura nagged, sounding more like a mom every day than a 21-year-old single woman. She kicked at the disgusting clutter covering his living room floor, body blocking the TV and, therefore, evoking a growl out of Naruto as he ran someone down on the sidewalk in his stolen Cadillac.

“Because I’m busy playing Grand Theft Auto?” He didn’t even bother to look at her as he continued punching down on the controller, running down a prostitute. “Besides, I work better at night.”

Sakura stood in front of him stubbornly. She swiftly yanked the controller from his hands by the cord and chucked it on the floor. It landed with a hard thud and skidded across the old wood boards. She pointed to the window. “And what do you call that?”

Outside it was dark. That’s funny. When he’d started playing, it had been two in the afternoon.

Naruto pretended not to notice. “It’s not even due for a few days. It’ll take me like an hour to write.”

Sakura folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot impatiently. “Maybe for you. You always have good ideas.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault I’m a genius.” Naruto smiled roguishly as he looked up at his friend with a haughty bravado.

Sakura stared at him in disbelief. “Ugh.”

Naruto sighed. “Fine, okay.”

He got up reluctantly, mumbling under his breath about pushy women as he went to fetch his laptop from the adjacent room. By then Sakura had already taken out hers from her backpack and plugged it in to the outlet hidden behind the cheap side table he’d snagged from a pile of garbage on some curb in the East part of campus. She curled up on the other end of the couch and gingerly set out the notes for the assignment on the middle cushion.

“So, uh, what was it again?” Naruto asked as his screen brightened and the toolbar icons lit up the bottom of the monitor.

“A few pages on something descriptive,” Sakura answered, brushing her hair behind her ears.

Naruto opened his Word program and looked at her as she sorted out the papers again. He noticed something different about her appearance. “Hey, since when did you start wearing glasses?”

“Oh,” she replied with a modest blush. “The other day.”

Naruto looked at her questioningly, suspicious when her cheeks turned red. “Hmm…”

“I mean I needed them anyway, but… I was talking to Ino, and she said she’d heard that Sasuke preferred women who wore glasses?”

Naruto peered at her like she’d grown another head. “You what!?” He couldn’t help but laugh at her.

“I mean I need them for reading anyway, so…”

“You got glasses because you want Sasuke to notice you? That’s… wrong on so many levels. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Oh shut up. I’m not as good as you at writing, so I have to find another way to get him to notice me.”

“Well, first of all,” Naruto said, picking his legs up to sit cross-legged as he settled his computer into his lap. “Um, you’re his student and he’s your teacher. Second, he’s a huge asshole, and third, he doesn’t treat me any different than anyone else. In fact, he already acts like he hates me even though he gives me decent crit on my stuff.”

“If he hates you it’s because of the way you act in class. Always goofing off with Kiba and making jokes. He just wants you to be serious, and, really, I think there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Naruto stared at her as if she'd confessed to being abducted by aliens. “Are you for real? Is he brainwashing you somehow? Subliminal messages on the chalkboard?”

Sakura shook her head. “I don’t think you know how lucky we are to have him as a teacher. I mean, have you read his stuff? He’s going to be really famous one day and he‘s like our age.”

Naruto snorted, clearly appalled. “I think you’re exaggerating.”

Sakura spun her laptop his way. “Oh no? Have you read his school bio? I mean he went to John Hopkins, and there’s a link to his published stories. He’s already won several awards and has even been published in the New Yorker. Twice.”

Naruto squinted at the screen and pulled it closer. There was a black and white photo of Sasuke, where he was looking off camera. He wore a pair of black framed glasses, and he wasn’t smiling. It was closer to a grimace. Naruto read the two paragraphs of information summarizing the schools Sasuke had gone to, stories that had won awards and where he’d been published. Much to Naruto’s displeasure, it was a rather long list.

“So what?! He probably wrote that up himself and padded it! What’s so special about the New Yorker anyway? It’s stuffy and out of date.”

“Now you’re simply being petty and jealous,” Sakura stated disdainfully, snatching back her laptop with a huff of exasperation. “He’s attractive, intelligent, and extremely talented.”

“Maybe you should start a fanclub for him,” Naruto grumbled resentfully.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sakura said, swishing her medium-length strawberry blonde hair over her shoulders. “Let’s just get to work.”

“Wait, gimme that address. I wanna read something of his. He’s so damn full of himself, but I doubt his writing is anything better than average. You know what they say, those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach.”

Sakura laughed shrewdly. “I hate to tell you this. But I’m afraid he’s good at both. If he couldn’t write, I don’t think they’d let him teach.”

“I’ll see about that,” Naruto remarked childishly as he went to type in the web address and click on the link to his teacher’s stories.

----------

An hour later, after reading three of Sasuke’s short stories, Naruto let out a cry of frustration, startling Sakura, who’d been busy typing dilligently.

She clutched her chest, worry etched into her brow, searching Naruto as if expecting him to be bleeding from somewhere. “What’s wrong?” she asked excitedly.

“He’s good,” Naruto moaned begrudgingly. “Like really good.”

Sakura leaned over and punched him in the shoulder. “Is that all? I already told you he was good!”

“But yeah, that’s ‘cause you have a crush on him, but I mean… all three of these are… really fucking amazing! I can’t even believe someone with his personality could have written anything like this.” Naruto continued to stare at the screen incredulously, not wanting to believe it. “Shit!”

Sakura looked confused as to why Naruto was getting so bent out of shape. “Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

“Because. I mean… I had no idea he was this good. What the hell is he doing teaching? He should be out writing or something. Jesus.”

Appearing very pleased with herself, Sakura gave him a wicked smile. “Told you.”

“He’s still an asshole, but, fuck. His writing is… really… I don’t even know.”

Sakura burst into giggles. “I know, right?”

Naruto turned his head slowly and glared. She smirked at him perceptively, eyes gleaming with the phrase, I told you so!

Attempting to squash his growing frustration (and sudden insecurity about his own inadequacies as a writer), Naruto shrugged it off and promptly closed out of the site. He opened up his Word screen and stared at it for a long time. Usually it was easy for him to write. It just kind of flowed out of him, especially when it came to prompts.

Even if they were as vague as the directions Sasuke had given:

Something descriptive.

Now that’s brilliant direction.

“Great. Now I’m going to be all self-conscious,” Naruto said dramatically, wallowing in his own self-pity. Sakura laughed at him unsympathetically.

“Good,” she teased light-heartedly, leaning over to pat Naruto’s knee. “Despite what you say about Sasuke being arrogant, I think it’s good for you to be humbled every once in a while, too. Gives the rest of us a chance to catch up.”

The corner of Naruto’s mouth twitched between a scowl and smile. “You act like my stuff is something special, but it’s not.”

Sakura groaned and rolled her eyes, reaching for her notes to stack them into a pile only to spread them out again. “I’ve been in every single one of your writing classes. We all end up looking silly in comparison to the stuff you come up with. When ever we workshopped your stories, not only would most of the students fawn all over your writing, but so would the teachers.”

Naruto didn’t remember it happening like that at all. “I think that was somebody else, Sakura. Sasuke really has turned your brain to mush.”

Sakura heaved a heavy sigh. “You’re so frustrating,” she remarked with a feminine growl, grouchy now as she leaned against the couch arm.

Naruto glanced at her, but her eyes were back on the screen, fingers typing away fervently as if she could relieve her tension by taking it out on the keys. But anyway, Naruto didn’t get it, and he really couldn’t deny that… there was this niggling feeling of respect growing for a teacher he’d been trying so hard to detest.

But maybe… he really could learn something from Sasuke this semester.

Quietly, he began to type, somewhat conscious of wanting to write something that could… that might… impress his teacher.

----------

The following week, after class ended and the students had turned in their descriptive writing assignments, Naruto stood in front of Sasuke’s desk expectantly. Everyone else had left. Sasuke had given him a pretty generous grade and good crit on the previous week’s assignment. After thinking about it for a little while, Naruto realized he didn’t exactly want to start off on the wrong foot with his teacher, and so he decided to try and attempt a clean slate. That, and now that he knew Sasuke wasn’t all talk and was actually a pretty decent (fucking amazing) writer, he didn’t feel as inclined to continue acting the way he had been. Although, to be honest, he did happen to think adding humor to the class every once in a while loosened his classmates up and made them talk more. Their teacher could be pretty intimidating like that, Naruto supposed.

Sasuke had been shuffling the papers together and stacking them in an organized pile, features tense with his preoccupation. He barely seemed to register Naruto’s presence. He wore some nice black dress shirt and a pair of dress slacks. Naruto only happened to notice because his teacher had been wearing a tie that day, which he found rather peculiar since Sasuke had never worn one previously. Usually what he wore was pretty casual. Jeans. A sweater or simple, solid long-sleeved shirt of some kind.

“What is it Mr. Uzumaki?” Sasuke asked as he looked up while simultaneously clasping his briefcase closed.

Naruto tilted his head to the side, shifting the backpack that rested on his left shoulder. “Is it normal for college teachers to address students by their last names? I mean c’mon, I’ve been a student of yours for a few weeks already.”

“Is this what you stayed after class to speak to me about?”

Naruto frowned. Obviously attempting to win Sasuke over with humor wasn’t going to work. “…No,” he said carefully.

He blinked stupidly as he tried to figure out how to articulate what he’d wanted to say, which resulted in the both of them staring at each other wordlessly for almost a minute. Not very smooth on his part at all.

“Okay then,” Sasuke said, standing and working his way into his jacket.

Naruto continued to stare, still drawing a blank. “No, wait…”

Sasuke glanced at him as he straightened out one of the jacket sleeves and began pulling up the zipper. He took hold of the handle on the case and lifted it off the desk, keeping it close to his side.

“I wanted to, uh…” Naruto rubbed the back of his head, feeling uneasy. “Apologize.”

“Oh?” Sasuke asked, sounding only mildly curious. Naruto nodded, but ended up looking behind his teacher, reading the scrawl on the blackboard behind them. It was annoying how neat and crisp and concise Sasuke’s writing appeared. That white chalk so bright against the dark green of the board.

“Yeah,” Naruto continued, coming to his senses again finally. “I mean. I want you to know I’m serious about writing. Like really serious, and so… I’ll… um…”

“Stop acting like such an idiot in class?”

“Yeah,” Naruto agreed and then stopped mid-nod. “Wait… can you call me an idiot?”

“Alright. You’re an idiot.”

Naruto snorted at Sasuke’s nerve. “That’s mature.”

“What?” Sasuke asked with a cocky smirk and raise of an eyebrow. “I thought you liked jokes.”

Naruto paused a moment, taking in Sasuke’s rather arrogant manner. It was almost… amusing. Or maybe Sasuke somehow found him amusing? Weird.

“Right,” he stated lamely when he couldn‘t remember what he’d been trying to say.

“Funny,” Sasuke remarked blandly, adusting his glasses. “You seem so much more articulate in your writing assignments. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that maybe all those had been plagiarized. And here I thought you weren’t completely incompetent.”

“Hey!” Naruto shouted after him before he could think of a more clever retort. He ended up watching with a clenched jaw as Sasuke left him standing there, grappling to find the words that could express his sheer frustration.

Dammit!

Well, at least he hadn’t said anything about how good he thought Sasuke’s writing had been. Probably would have gone straight to the jerk’s head anyway. Naruto glared at the chalkboard for just sitting there while Sasuke humiliated him.

So maybe his teacher wouldn’t give him the time of day now, but the semester was still early, and he’d show that uptight, know-it-all prick that he had talent after all!

TBC