Butterfly-free

Chapter 3

Shisui smiled a lopsided smile, pulled his left hand through his hair. It felt strange, using his left hand for it. Shisui wasn't particularly fond of unfamiliar feelings, but his right hand was preoccupied with holding a crystal glass of champagne. He was listening intently to the conversation around him. He was surrounded by the group of men who usually surrounded him in meeting rooms, this time in the context of a Christmas party. The management had rented an entire top floor of a hotel room, consisting of an entirely open area with a large bar, one side being lined with tables and booths for people to sit. White-coated waiters, young ladies and gentlemen and non-binaries with a hope to get their foot into Shisui's company, were walking around serving the expensive champagne that had been bought. The company had made a huge profit this year – Shisui had personally asked the management to import the alcohol to match.

He deserves expensive things...

The men next to the curly-haired CEO were talking business, dressed in suits stretching over broad chests, hair gleaming in side-parts or backslicks. Shisui smiled, nodded, added a word here and there, drank with them, but his heart wasn't in it.

His heart was searching for Itachi.

The men were talking nonsense to Shisui now; he was used to talking politics, economics, business, but now, it meant nothing to him. It felt dull. He looked at the men around him, furrowing his brows at them. So different from Itachi. So much poise. So much power. But was Itachi entirely powerless? Shisui did not think so.

Shisui thought that Itachi held a terrifying power over him.

Over and over, he looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, of his long hair, of his milky wrists. Shisui didn't. He was trembling, nervous, suddenly acutely aware of his size; even the tallest men in the group at the top of his company now surrounding him reached only his nose. Shisui wanted to shrink, a feeling he'd never felt before – he wanted to absorb himself into a bubble where there was room for him and Itachi, not two halves of a whole because they were two wholes of a diad.

"Shisui... Oy, Shisui!"

Shisui jerked and looked up. The men were looking at him.

"Horse racing next week. You coming?"

"Sorry, I'm looking for someone", Shisui murmured mindlessly, not thinking about what this may do to his image.

The men around he laughed heartily between them, shoving their CEO playfully.

"Who is she?"

"Come on, Shisui, tell us!"

Shisui hardly noticed. He swiped the champagne, quickly so that it most definitey would make his head spin slightly, put it on an empty tray a waiter carried past him at that point, and turned and walked away. He needed to be alone.

He found an empty space in the vast room, leaned against the wall, took his phone out and fiddled with it, looking at the stock market. Most of his funds were going up, except for one he used for part of his own personal long-time savings. He tried reading up on it, distracting himself from the distress he was feeling.

Maybe, I should text Itachi... the curly-haired man thought.

He couldn't help but look up from time to time, still hoping to see him. His mind went back and forth, back and forth, desperately wanting to text Itachi, hoping to get an answer as to whether he was there at the party or not so that he could turn his anxiety into glee or disappointment, depending on the answer. Anything was better than this terrible hope. But what if Itachi didn't even answer?

And when he looked up from his phone next time, he saw him.

On the other side of the room, hardly even visible from where he stood, he saw the unmistakable frame of his former lover.