Chapter Text
“Father, I request a different desk.”
Coal black stares down coal black as Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Fugaku stand on opposite sides of the dark mahogany desk. The older man looks at his son, the younger softer image of him, and considers the younger man with a stone face. Itachi truly looks like the mature and responsible oldest son and heir to the Uchiha Guard Academy and Agency (UGAA). His raven hair is long and well kept and was gathered in a tastefully loose low tail at his back with red cord, some long bangs framing his face . Soft corners holding his mothers beauty but cold eyes and deep lines under his eyes lending him that harsh and honed edge made up his features. At a height of 5’ 10”, the 23 year old was still rather fair in complexion. It was really no wonder the female population seemed to flock to him. It is rather unfortunate that he had been born a genius with the workaholic habit. His father on the other hand had evidently frowned so much in his life there are permanent lines under the corner of his lips. He too had the tear trough lines under his eyes but they were not as pronounced, and his chin is very squared and strong in contrast to the younger's soft and elegant jawline.
Fugaku responds to his son's request. “No, your desk is the best available for your position and though Hidan is strange he is deserving of the placement in that office as well. Not many have recruited so many top tier guards to our academy.”
Itachi seems to think it over. He just couldn't take the constant chattering and noise anymore. And some of the things this desk mate said were plainly gibberish to him. Apparently Hidan was a very religious man and followed someone by the name of “Jashin”. Itachi couldn't be bothered to listen but every now and then he picked out some phrases that were rather disturbing.
“He is disruptive. I can't do my work. If I have to move to a lower value desk I do not care. As long as I can properly work.”
The father sighs and runs his hand down over his mouth. “I can't do anything about that. I assume you already did all the mannered things to get him to stop. Unless he actually becomes an impediment to your work, whatever I do will look like favoritism. We Uchiha are not cheaters. “
“I understand father.” Itachi turned to leave, having felt he concluded this conversation. “Mother says we are having stew for dinner.” Fugaku at the mention of his wife softens slightly.
“Ah, good. And Itachi,” Fugaku' continues as he sits down in his chair. “If you can’t work there, then find somewhere that you are not a bother and just spend your time there. It'll also serve as a good opportunity for you to get to know your future subordinates. The desk only has to be the location where everything ends up.” and with this Fugaku starts shifting through his paper, silently dismissing his son.
It takes a few days. Itachi has been to many offices. He even sat in the break room but he found out that Hidan actually met up with secretary, Kuzaku, and argued over the most superficial things. Itachi was this close to slipping into a broom closet to escape. The place he saved to last was the laundry rooms. Saved to last because he wasn't sure if there would be room and if the washing machines noise would bother him. He had enjoyed laundry day with his mother when he was 11 but this was completely different. Even so Itachi was no longer tolerant of the office given to him and its other occupant.
Itachi steps up to the door and raises his hand poised to knock when the door opens on its own. In the doorway with back to the door stands a young woman with (color) hair and (color eyes) that were looking at him over her shoulder.
~~~
You, being the young woman, had been attempting to pull your clothing rack out of the room you've been stuck in all day ironing suits. When you opened the door ready to escape out of it your eyes, checking your backwards path, found themselves locked charcoal eyes flecked with ash. You immediately turned around to catch the door and keep it open.
“Oh sorry! Did you need something? I was just about to deliver the suits out to their owners but let me know if I can be of assistance.” you smile at him half meaning it for once as you examine the gentleman in front of you. There was something alluring about him, a spark in his eye that seemed to draw out your good will towards this fellow human on a not so good day.
~~~
Itachi observed you as well. Your light but tired smile was friendly, though it seemed slightly sarcastic. And you seem to ooze a calm aura to him. If there was ever a personified example of lavender, Itachi would believe it was you. Of course you would not have been able to see any of this thought train as the man had perfected the Uchiha poker face at the age of 13. The only indication that he was thinking at all was the flitting of his dark eyes and the slight glint in them as they focused on you.
~~~
The male stepped back respectfully before greeting you “ my apologies for my timing, I was hoping you might have an extra desk in here I might borrow? Unfortunately I find myself unable to get work done at my own desk and was hoping getting out of the office would improve this.” His polite delivery stunned you for a moment, having mostly dealt with shy boy-men and roguish brats here. And then his actual words hit you.
“Borrow a desk? You mean you want to work here? Is that okay for you to do?”
He merely replied “hn”
“Oh, well I suppose I don't mind, but it's pretty loud sometimes and I tend to listen to music so I might not be a very attentive co-worker.”
“That's fine. If it doesn't work I'll tell you, but I doubt it will be because of you or your music”
With this you rub the back of your neck with your free hand before stepping over to let him. “Well then get yourself comfortable while I make my delivery. I'll show you where you can set up.”
Once he is inside you close the door behind him and lead him to the back of the room where there are counters and shelves and equipment lining the walls. Through a door to the right is the room full of washing machines and dryers and carts and to the left is the sewing room. On the back wall is a desk that was turned to makeshift more counter space but ended up being useless to others except for your lunches. You push it flush with the counter so that the whole thing becomes one side of the counter instead of two bits and the standing tables create little enclosure of what will be his space for at least the next hour. Finishing it with the comfy extra chair from the sewing room that the tailor doesn't even use Itachi thanks you and begins to unload his laptop.
“The charging cable is right below the counter closest to you at the back and there's a bathroom in the machine room next to dirty clothing storage. I'll be back in thirty or so, so don't be surprised if I'm not back too fast.” and with that you whisk yourself and your cart out of the room slightly nervously.
You can't help but think to yourself `please don't be a mistake, handsome. Pleeeeeease, Sasori is gonna kill me otherwise!’
~~~
Itachi, meanwhile, sits down and pulls out his papers from his briefcase, setting up the desk in a temporary and functional way. He sits back. Look around. And for some reason he feels warm. Why did it smell like lavender and burnt sugar? And why did that bring him to ease?
~~~
For the next few days the two of you slowly got more and more used to each other's presence and you even started to sway a little to your music as you hung the pressed shirts. Itachi found his own features start to relax more around you as he frowned or huffed at ridiculous client requests. While neither of you engaged in more than a little bit of small talk around breaks and in greeting and parting, you both seemed to enjoy the fact that there was a reasonable human at arms reach to speak with should you want to.
You found out Itachi's name and that he was naturally climbing the ranks to take the company so as to build a stronger understanding of his employees. His job at the company was clientele work. He organized what jobs to take and what ranges each fell into, often disappearing to meet these people to clarify terms of contracts and sometimes making or taking calls. You just managed the laundry and housekeeping departments. Which frankly was quite small. It was only you and one other laundry worker, your one tailor (Sasori), the janitor (Jugo) and one housekeeper. Everyone but Jugo were only here part time at most because these men had to actually clean their own rooms like adults, and had to pay for their personal laundry to be cleaned here. Meaning most opted to do it themselves or take it to moms.
Itachi was in fact much more productive here. Though he did admit you were catching his eye from time to time. Sometimes you would sway your hips and jingle the keys on your side. Sometimes you sigh and others you couldn't help but hum to some infuriatingly catchy tune. But most of all. The sound of it made him feel at home. The machines go with an overlying melody of humming and rustling fabric, the smell of lavender and burnt sugar. All of it together brought him back to his youth sitting in the sun room with his mother again. But instead of his mother there was this more wild woman with smiles as bright as the sun and sighs as heavy as the oceans.