Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Hierarchical Complexity ❯ Model Framework ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

By: IceHaze

Chapter 1: Model Framework

Sasuke released a heavy sigh as he shut the refrigerator door abruptly.

His agitation was becoming more evident as the month dragged on. The first few days (maybe even the first two weeks) were fine. But as the problem progressed longer than he'd care for it to, he had the overwhelming desire to voice it to the other members of the household.

Sasuke sat down at the table and stole a glance at his mother who was humming to an unknown melody. She was currently rinsing out the dirty bowls from breakfast and laying them out to dry. He grimaced as she rubbed over a spot in the bowl with her fingernails, emitting a high-pitched squeaking sound.

“Ne, kaa-san…”

“Yes, Sasuke-chan?” Mikoto continued to rub the stain in irritation and furrowed her brows when she realized the bowl was putting up quite a fight.

“I don't think it's normal,” he lazily dropped the nibbled food onto the plate on the table and sighed heavily when he noticed his mother was only half paying attention.

Mikoto finished up her bowl and proceeded to wipe her hands clean. She knew her son's annoyance level could only reach so high and so she gave Sasuke her full attention. He was currently keeping himself occupied with the skewers holding his dumplings, rolling them back and forth carelessly.

His displeasure was evident.

“What's not normal, sweetie?” She purposely evaded the subject and reached out for a dry washcloth right by the sink.

Sasuke gave her a small scowl and Mikoto smiled nervously. “Sasuke-chan, there's nothing wrong.”

“It's going overboard.” He said this as he picked up the dumplings from the plate in order to attempt another nibble. His face scrunched in dissatisfaction and he once again, placed the dumpling back down.

“Now, now, Sasuke-chan. Hanami dango are traditional during flower gazing. It's not unusual for families to have the kitchen filled with them as treats.”

Sasuke frowned and lay the treat down onto his plate with a plop. "Well, we're not watching the sakura now." He continued to fidget with them in annoyance. “And what about these?” He said this as he used his fork to pick up a small piece from a bowl filled with anmitsu.

Mikoto smiled patiently once again. “They go great with the shiratama dango.”

He dropped said fork onto the bowl. “It's not that hot outside. And then how do you explain the manjuu?”

The small twitch on her brows didn't go unnoticed by Sasuke. “Itachi brought them back from a mission when he stopped by the hot springs.”

“Since when does he have time to stop by the hot springs? And what about the ichigo daifuku, castella, and strawberry cheesecake?”

Mikoto knew she lost this battle. She knew Sasuke brought up a valid argument. It was evident since the first few days.

Itachi had a problem.

She tossed the washcloth back on the counter, walked over to the table, and sat down right next to her son. “It's probably just a phase.”

Sasuke cocked one eyebrow. He didn't think it was “just a phase.”

Knowing her son did not accept her answer, she leaned on one hand heavily, trying to decide if she should share her suspicions with him. There was the risk of Sasuke not being able to absorb the information properly, or her intuition being way off the target. After all, this was Itachi she was trying to understand. And when it came to her eldest child, there was no certainty in any assertions. It was sometimes stressful having an AB type for a son.

Neither spoke a word, even as the sound of footsteps approached the kitchen. Fugaku leisurely walked across the kitchen and glanced at the pair. He looked over at his wife and son who seemed to be too self-absorbed at the moment and decided to leave them in peace. He opened up the fridge, frowned and shut the door slowly. After sitting across from the two, he let out a heavy sigh.

He glanced at the two, hoping either would break the tension. When it was obvious that both were lost in their own thoughts, he decided to speak. His five simple words effectively broke them out of their trance.

“Has anyone talked to him?”

After watching their heads shake side-to-side, he began to assess the situation himself. With one finger massaging his temple, he looked up at the ceiling, trying to formulate an explanation to this predicament.

“Maybe he's sick,” suggested Sasuke as he pushed his bowl over to his mother. If Itachi was sick, then he didn't want to contract any diseases by eating his food.

“No, his performance on his missions has yet to sway, and the results from his recent physical showed no signs of any contracted diseases. This appears to be more psychological.” Fugaku crossed his arms and stared at the sweet contents on the table.

The thought had crossed his mind before. But the examination proved that Itachi was perfectly fit. And so he began to think up any rationale behind the problem. There was a slight possibility that Itachi was using the comforts of the food to placate some deep psychological problem. It wasn't unusual for people to use food as psychological remedies in order to alleviate the stresses of their lifestyle. What was unusual was his choice of foods. That he found…a bit unsettling. He hoped that his son was not developing some erratic eating disorder. It would not bode well in his future missions. Sporadic behavior, after all, is a sign of psychosis. And he didn't think Itachi adopted the habit of speaking to himself—yet, anyway.

There were also the suspicious lapses between his missions. As captain of his Anbu squad, Itachi would at times be sent on high classed missions. When recruitment was short, he would be sent as a regular Jounin captain for a pre-assigned squad. He didn't doubt his son's abilities in handling his mission; he even thought some were beneath his current status. The problem was that Itachi would take a little too long in returning home. When he asked Itachi's teammates, they assured him that he went off for more training. He hoped that, for Itachi's sake, that all he did was train. He didn't want his son shaming himself by doing anything to betray the clan. Accepting mediocre missions out of kindness didn't seem like something Itachi would do, either. There must have been another incentive behind these regular missions. And Itachi would remain so distant upon returning from them. These strange behaviors and isolation furthered his suspicions. Was Itachi planning anything? Or was he letting something simple get out of hand? Whatever the case, he didn't want his family to get worried over these extreme ideas so he suggested the simplest answer.

“It's probably stress from all the work.”

Neither of the other two said a word. This was a logical explanation.

Sasuke placed a hand under his chin as he pondered on the possibilities. It was hard to read Itachi's expressions as he always remained stoic; however, that didn't rule out the chance that all his work was overwhelming him. Itachi not only had his missions to worry about, but his duties to the clan and watching over his only brother. Sasuke felt a tiny bit guilty at having to give his older sibling another chore. He would constantly pester Itachi about never training with him now that he was in the academy. When Itachi kept assuring him that another time would be more suitable, he'd accuse his brother of not caring. He remembered the many arguments that grew from this. Itachi always remained impartial, and Sasuke would be furious. There were times he 'ran away' in an attempt to worry him. It always ended with him finding his own way back and submitting to the fact that maybe he'd acted like a spoiled brat. He blamed his brother for most of these problems. But now, he began to feel guilty for not understanding Itachi's position. He was probably exhausted from all his work as a Jounin. Being the captain of an Anbu squad carried a lot of responsibility.

Then there was their father who constantly pushed Itachi to the brink of his limit. The clan expected so much out of him and Sasuke wondered if they remembered Itachi was still so young. He couldn't even begin to fathom the pressures Itachi must be bearing. On top of that, there were days that Itachi would go “missing” and he could only conclude that his brother went off somewhere to train privately. He wasn't the type to show off and neither did he enjoy company for personal training. But was all that really necessary? Itachi had basic training he did within Konoha, but to train even in between missions, and alone? Was he to assume that between his missions, general clan duties, team meetings, house chores, watching over his brother, and routine training Itachi took on the task of pushing himself even further by testing the limits of his capabilities? Sasuke definitely admired his older brother's dedication and discipline.

“Maybe he's stretching himself too thin?”

Mikoto silently agreed; both her son and husband offered valid explanations. That still didn't stop her from fantasizing. Though she knew her suspicions were difficult to accept and far too improbable, she couldn't help but let herself daydream at the possibility. She giggled internally at her glee—at the prospect that her son, Uchiha Itachi, could even remotely be in love. That would explain all the sweets he had been bringing thus far. They could be presents from a girl, or maybe even girls. Maybe his fan base finally had the courage to deliver him gifts? No, that couldn't be the case. Itachi never showed interest in this “fan club” and would, in turn, never indulge in their gifts. And the fact that Itachi truly was consuming these confectionaries proved that it could only be from one person, and possibly, someone he loved. She was sure they were gifts because her son would not go out of his way simply to purchase sweets, despite what she told Sasuke earlier about the manjuu. He was more of the type to indulge in something because it was convenient or readily available. He also didn't like to waste food.

Then there was what she liked to call, Itachi's “me time.” At first, she was worried he would be influenced by his peers into doing dangerous things in order to alleviate the stress. But Itachi wasn't the type to try anything simply out of pressure, and once she noticed his strange eating habits, that thought was immediately discarded. Instead, she began to suspect Itachi would spend his time in between missions courting this potential lover. Well… `suspect' might not be the word she was looking for—it was more like wishful thinking. She only prayed he didn't do anything to shame himself or his family, like fornication. But she trusted her son enough to believe he wouldn't. That didn't stop a mother from worrying, though, especially when there were nights he wouldn't return. This brought on a small blush; after all, her son was a healthy young man. Surely he had the same thoughts other men his age did? That was quite normal and a way most young men in his generation alleviated their stress. She would definitely need to give Itachi `the talk.' Aside from that small concern, she was beyond ecstatic. Ah, yes, her son…in love.

“That must be it!”

She fell into a fit of giggles at such a notion and received confused frowns from both her husband and youngest son.

Before either of them could interrogate Mikoto, soft steps approached the kitchen. They watched as Itachi quietly went over to the fridge.

His blank eyes darted side to side. Something was obviously missing and when he noticed that, he began to mumble his annoyance. Deciding on a substitute, he grabbed it quickly and shut the fridge door behind him. Normally, he would have exited without so much as a glance to anyone; however, this time he could feel the tension radiating from each of them. All of it was directed towards him. Deciding it was more efficient to just be direct, he cast a glance sideways.

“What?”

Fugaku noted Itachi's silent mumbling and began to believe his son truly was developing psychotic behavior.

Sasuke decided to remain silent. Itachi's annoyance was quite intimidating and he didn't want to push it further by questioning his older brother's capacity in handling his workload.

Mikoto's original assertion remained unvoiced as well. She didn't think the timing was quite right.

The trio continued to stare and decided to leave things as they were. Neither of them was brave enough to confront Itachi directly, at least, not with an audience present. Thus they settled for their individual rationales and avoided any eye contact. The atmosphere was thick and only the sound of water leaking from the faucet could be heard.

Itachi frowned and decided that maybe it wasn't at all worthwhile to converse after all. And so, he left without another word, sweets in tow.

It wasn't long before the silence died out. Realizing that laundry still needed to be done; Mikoto excused herself from the table. Fugaku left as well, not bothering to give anyone a reason. That left only Sasuke behind at the table.

There was just no point in being agitated over something like that. Itachi probably wouldn't change even if they did intervene. He may even continue the habit just to aggravate everyone. He glanced sideways to the plate of dumplings and bowl of anmitsu he cast aside before. They were really starting to bother him, so he picked up the dishes and tossed the remains into the trashcan. After placing the bowl and plate in the sink, he walked away from the kitchen.

Sasuke knew then that he would never look at sweets in quite the same way again.

End Chapter 1