Immersion Learning | By : antilogicgirl Category: Naruto AU/AR > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1224 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters therein. I make no money or profit from this fiction. |
Author's Note: Yes, I am working on my other stories. I have a chapter of Machi Yoko Naruto ready to go but for a bit of editing, and there are a couple of other things too. But! Reading Naono Bohara's mangas totally made me get distracted from those things to write this instead. I hope you like it, in spite of its faults, both obvious and subtle. There are notes on things you might not understand at the end of the chapter. Most Japanese words used are defined by the user just after they are said. Caveat: I am not attempting to offend anyone by spelling out Japanese accent pronunciations. It is done so that one understands how much an English tutor is needed. Title: Immersion Learning Genre: Romance, Comedy, Drama Series: Naruto Begun: 13 April 2011 Finished: 24 April 2011 -- Summary: When Naruto took a job as a live-in English tutor, he was told that it would be difficult to get along with his student. He did not expect that he would fall in love with the sullen little brat. [Naru/Sasu] -- Lesson One: Introductions “Shit,” muttered Uzumaki Naruto. He loosened the tie around his neck, and tossed his brief case into the car. It skittered across the leather of the bench seat and hit the passenger side door. He winced, and slid inside. Upon inspection, it did not appear to have done any damage. After taking a second or two to be relieved, he shut the door to the car and rolled down the window. One bad thing about having a classic car: no air conditioning. The afternoon was hot and sticky, even in late April. Not that he expected anything else in this city. He sighed as he buckled himself in. That job interview had not gone well. Maybe it was true what they said about English majors not being able to feed themselves. Months ago, he had given up on getting a job in the academic world. Naruto had fallen back on his minor in education, but now it seemed that even teaching high school wasn't going to happen. Not that he wanted to be ignored by an entire room full of hormonal teenagers on a daily basis, but a regular paycheck would have been nice. All he wanted to do was write. But until anything panned out, writing didn't pay the bills. So he had to get what was affectionately known as a “day job”. To make matters worse, he was probably going to be evicted soon if he couldn't come up with enough money to give that nasty, perverted old woman. “Back to the drawing board,” he said as he started the engine. It roared to life, and he coasted out of the pull-through parking spot, the clutch half-depressed. He had seen a cafe not far away that advertised free internet access, and since he didn't have that hooked up at his apartment anymore, it would be his only chance to cruise the wanted ads for the day. As he pulled into the parking lot, he saw that the place was not busy. That was a relief. He did not feel like competing with tons of people for space while feeling rejected yet again. -- The door slammed, and Uchiha Mikoto slumped against the wall. “That is the third one,” she mumbled in fluid Japanese which was nevertheless filled with resignation. Her dark gaze strayed from the floor to where her youngest son sat on the couch. It somehow was not a surprise to her that he did not look at all apologetic. “Sasuke,” she said quietly, “How many tutors are you going to terrorize? You will be starting school in a few months, and it will be very hard for you if you cannot improve your English.” “Stupid.” he growled, and kicked the leg of the coffee table. “This whole place is stupid. Why did we have to follow Father? Just because he got transferred here, it doesn't mean that we had to come as well.” She was just about to try explaining again, but was saved the effort. From the hallway, the voice of her older son came. “Sasuke, we have to make do with what we're given. This isn't Manga. Mother and Father aren't just going to let you stay in Nagasaki by yourself.” Itachi emerged from the rear of the house, drying his hair with a towel. Mikoto smiled at him gratefully. At least one of her children understood. It was not as though she wished for them to move. But when her husband's company took over an American construction firm, he was promoted and sent to head up the new U.S.-based division. The position could last up to ten years, so Fugaku decided that they were all to move. Itachi could have stayed in Japan, but he chose to follow his father. He worked for the company as well, and requested the transfer. She worried about her son. Sasuke had always been a little sullen, but for the past few weeks, he had grown irritable. They had hired tutors to help with his English, but none stayed more than a day. He had driven them all away. -- Naruto closed his internet browser and almost threw his mouse at a nearby display of coffee mugs. It looked like he was going to have to settle for part time work. He had copied down several numbers of local businesses that were hiring, and wrote a note to himself that he'd need to print out resumes. Once he had done that, he opened the document he had been working on earlier that day. Customers filtered in and out of the coffee shop as he wrote, and after a while, he did not even notice that anyone else was in the room. “Ex-a-cus-u me,” a voice from over his right shoulder said, causing him to turn around. Naruto looked up at a man of middling height and years with a stern expression. He was dressed in an immaculate gray business suit with a dark blue tie, and the way he held himself said he was upper class, all the way. “You are...sakka...a writ-eru?” Oh, man. A Japanese tourist? Naruto wondered, blinking up at the man. In New Orleans, you usually only got those in the Quarter (1) or the Garden District. What was this guy doing in the CBD (2)? He stood up like his grandmother had taught him and gave a bow. “Yes. I studied English in college, and want to write as my profession. Currently I am attempting to get a job in education to pay the bills. My name is Uzumaki Naruto.” Naruto straightened and watched the Japanese man's eyes widen. “Gomen nasai,” he said gravely, “Sorry. You look like gaijin (3).” With a laugh, Naruto ruffled the hair at the back of his head. “Don't apologize. I am a third-generation Japanese American, after all. My father's mother is Japanese, and Dad's only half. I don't look it very much at all, with my hair and eyes. Mom's family is American, and so's my grandfather.” The man's eyes strayed to the screen of his computer again, and he asked, “Why did you want to know if I'm a writer?” The man reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and produced a business card holder. With a flick of the wrist, he had pulled one out, and put the holder away again. He then held the small paper rectangle out to him with both hands. Naruto took the card and read it as the man announced who he was. “I am Uchiha. Uchiha Fugaku. May I sit with you?” Over the next fifteen minutes, Naruto found out that this man was head of the American division of a corporation from Japan. Also, Fugaku offered him a job. “You want me to tutor your son in English?” Naruto asked, taken aback. “Are you sure? I could be a psychotic killer. I might steal all of your expensive things. I could kidnap your wife and ransom her for millions of dollars.” Fugaku's grave face broke into a smile, and he laughed. It was odd, coming from so serious a man. Sipping his coffee, Uchiha Fugaku leaned back in his chair. “I am...how do you say? I am a good judge of charac-teru.” He pulled a tiny memo pad from his jacket and wrote something on it. Tearing off the top sheet, he passed it to Naruto. “The pay would be...kandai...generous.” Frowning, Naruto picked up the sheet of paper. He nearly fell out of his chair. All those zeros...That was a lot more than a teacher usually made...in five years. And that was for a few months work? “Uzumaki-san,” Fugaku said seriously, “I will not lie. My son is...fuyukai—he is disagreeable at times. Your job will not be an easy one. And it will be necessary that you live in our home. Do you think that you can do this?” It took all of ten seconds for him to weigh his options. Get a job. Get money. Get the hell out of a roach-infested apartment owned by an old woman that wanted to jump his bones. Not even a question. He could deal with annoying brats. “I think so,” Naruto said finally. “Will anyone else need lessons? Your English is good, but you may need help with vocabulary. What of the rest of your family?” Fugaku nodded. “My wife knows some English. Not much. Itachi is my eldest son. He is almost fluent. Talk with him regularly and he will improve. I can, also, and ask the meaning of words. It is Sasuke who needs the most help.” And with the ensuing handshake, the deal was done. “What is your address? Movers will arrive in the morning to gather your things.” Naruto wrote out his address, feeling somewhat dazed. “What about the lease on my apartment?” he asked, but Fugaku already had his cell phone out. “LaBu-lancu-san (4)? Uchiha Fugaku. I have a favor...” Naruto listened as Fugaku talked to his lawyer, asking that the man send someone over to either cancel the lease or pay off the remainder of its duration. He wondered just how much money this man made, but then thought better of it. This was his boss, after all, and it would be pretty rude to think of it. “Do you have any other issues, Naruto-san? Debts or legal matters?” He shook his head. “Good. Here is my address. Come to dinner. I will introduce you to my family.” -- Uchiha Sasuke looked at the dining table. There were five places set. Who was coming to dinner? He wasn't going to ask his mother. After the way she and Itachi had ganged up on him, there was no way in hell. Stumping out of the room, he went down the hall and upstairs to his room. There was a window seat there, where he could watch the streetcars go by. It was strange how old this place felt, when if he looked into the distance he could see tall glass and steel buildings. He flopped down in the window seat and looked outside. His father had come home early for dinner, and that probably explained the extra place setting. Some business acquaintance or corporate idiot that he would not have to talk to, probably. That was fine with him, since he did not feel like talking. The roaring sound of an engine pulled his attention from the rails he had been watching, and he looked to his left, up the street. Around the corner came a flashy blue car with white racing stripes on the hood. It was a big American muscle car, probably from the 1960s. Though he was prepared to watch it drive on by, it instead pulled into a parking spot right in front of their house. Sasuke wondered what kind of businessman drove a car like that. After a few seconds, the driver's side door opened, and a young man with a shock of blond hair stepped out. He pulled on a suit jacket and fixed a tie before approaching the house. Sasuke was confused. Who the hell was this guy? He looked too young to be important enough for his father to invite to dinner. Curious, he left his room and went back down the stairs. The housekeeper was just letting the man inside, and Sasuke's father came to meet him at the door. “Naruto-san,” Fugaku said with a bow. “I am pleased that you have come.” The man, Naruto, bowed in return and said in perfect English, “No, Mr. Uchiha, you have given me a golden opportunity. It is my pleasure.” Bright blue eyes strayed over Fugaku's shoulder to where Sasuke stood on the third stair from the bottom, holding onto the banister. His father turned around and beckoned to his younger son. “Hai, otosan?” he asked, Yes, father? Fugaku's lips tightened. “Please speak English, Sasuke.” With a huff, Sasuke replied haltingly, “What is it, father?” the foreign words felt strange on his tongue, and it irritated him that he felt stupid. The blond man watched him intently, bright blue eyes boring into him. Sasuke looked away, feeling redness rise to his cheeks at so direct a gaze. “This is Uzumaki Naruto. He will be living here, and teaching you English.” Sasuke looked between his father and the new arrival. Back and forth again, he could see no signs of a lie. “Naruto-san, this is my son, Sasuke. Please treat him well.” Naruto bowed deeply, and straightened. “I look forward to working with you, Sasuke.” “Baka (5),” Sasuke retorted, and walked away. -- Naruto stared after the kid who had just called him an idiot, a moron. That was his grandmother's pet name for him, and she said it with affection, but the tone that Sasuke had used was simply...rude as all hell! “I see what you meant, Mr. Uchiha.” Fugaku nodded as they watched the boy leave. “Don't worry,” Naruto said, “I know exactly how to deal with his type.” Fugaku smiled darkly. “Please do not leave any bruises, Naruto-san.” At that, Naruto could not help but laugh. His employer joined him after a moment, and things seemed to be getting off to an interesting start. Notes: 1 – Quarter – This is what locals call the French Quarter in New Orleans, where our story takes place. 2 – CBD – Central Business District 3 – gaijin – The Japanese word for “foreigner” 4 -- LaBu-lancu-san – Fugaku is trying to say LaBlanc-san. LaBlanc is a common surname in Louisiana. 5 – Baka – The Japanese word for “idiot”
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