Itachi swung the door wide, allowing the view of the livingroom to find them. The far wall was all window-giving a rather nice view of the park and buildings beyond. His livingroom was very simple-one almost overly plush couch, a rather modern coffee table, and a large, flat screen tv settled happily on a glass television table. Little inklings of Itachi's personality were unobtrusively placed around the room-on one shelf, a single picture of the family as a whole-mom, dad, two brothers-posed for a formal picture. Another of only the two Uchiha boys, much younger, much happier, playing together.
A long painting of running horses on another wall-nothing expensive, something from some local painter Itachi bought at an auction. A small collection of carved marble figurines were placed at random around the room. An acoustic guitar sat in one corner. Books lined almost every other shelf.
And that was, essentially, the extent of Itachi's livingroom. The rest of the apartment followed much of that same simplistic principle.
"Can I get you a drink?" He brushed past Neji and began taking off his coat. He didn't feel the need to make that formal in, stop, close the door, gesture. He didn't want to be formal. This was his home.