"Sometimes." Parting click. Tsk, 'Itachi' couldn't well sit still, could he. The phone idled in his hand for a moment, painfully subjected to every ounce of Uchiha Sasuke's sizable disgust, because really, clarity? No? Almost none? Tch.
Between examining his 'pictures' and cursing life (and Suigetsu, and Naruto also, because even when apparently uninvolved, it was somehow all tangentially their fault), he forgot himself. What... had the man asked? Photography? Why did it ma - he blinked once, bluntly (twice), shrugging, then pocketing the phone for good, pilfering for scrap paper, or lucky card number four. Paper it was. And a pen... no pen, but one of the many discarded grading tools caught his eye, held it, and worked well enough as he scribbled nonchalantly.
"You need... hmmmmm." Suigetsu's number. Might as well make him play secretary to earn his keep. He held the impromptu card out, nodding. "I don't do weddings." Blink. "Or children events." Blink-blink. "Or Tuesdays."
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