My Life (Itachi Uchiha)

Chapter 5- Make Me a Sandwich...Please

ENJOY!

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I sighed and plopped down into the white couch, allowing its soft and squishy cushions to engulf me. I had just gotten in from looking for jobs through the village. I had tried a few restaurants, but they didn't see me as fit for the job. I had also went to the various fruit stans and market to see if I could be of any help.

I was bored and wanted work, but I didn't know what to do, seeing as it was loud and clear that I was an outsider and was not trusted. I tugged on a dark chocolate curl that protruded from my hair and huffed. My time was running out and if I didn't get a job, the last resort was to become a ninja. That is the last thing that I or Itachi wanted.

Groaning, I got up from the couch and stalked over to the kitchen. I was feeling some white rice and Bahamian stewed vegetables today. I opened the refrigerator to reveal to me that my food supply was slowly depleting.

"I'm taking over you," I hummed as I pulled out the carrots, potatoes, sweet potatoes, onions and bell peppers. Next, I swung the cupboards open and pulled out the flour, vanilla, browning and olive oil. I then slid over to the cupboards that held the pots and pans and pulled out a deep pot. The click of the stove rang in my ears as I turned it on and the clank of the pot on the stove echoed through the kitchen. "La la la, la la la la la, I'm taking over you!"

A knock on the door stopped my song and my dinner preparations. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I walked over to the door and asked who it was.

"Sasuke," answered the knocker. I raised a brow. He wasn't supposed to come for another three hours.

"Are you sure?" I asked, "My Sasuke does not come until another three hours."

"You have three sisters and a mother and a father that does not care much for you," he called from the other side of the door. I opened the door and let him in. His face was unhappier than usual.

"What happened?" I asked. "Why the long face?"

He turned his head away from me and grunted, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I pursed my lips and crossed my arms. "Don't you lie to me. I won't feed you. Now talk to me."

He turned to me and sighed.

"An idiot loser asked me for a piece of my sandwich," he spilled.

There was a beat of silence... well until a bubble of laughter erupted from my throat and spilled pass my lips. "You're mad for that, boy!"

"I am not mad, just annoyed," he grumbled while putting his school bag down and walking into the kitchen. "What are you cooking?"

"Vegetable Stew," I answered while following him.

"Oh, okay." He took a seat at his usual spot and placed his chin on his folded hands.

"Would you like to help?" I asked as I gently rubbed the soap over my hands, ridding them of any germs that I may have picked up while I was out of the kitchen.

"Sure," he accepted. The chair made a blunt sound in protest to being dragged on the white, tiled floor. I moved over so he could have washed his hands. I looked at his hands as he washed them. The were normal sized for a child his age and his fingers were long and skinny. They were perfect for weaving hand seals and throwing kunai.

When he was done washing hands, I ushered him over to where I had all of the already washed vegetables.

"Cut those for me please," I requested.