Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2481608.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Naruto
  Relationship:
      Uchiha_Sasuke/Uzumaki_Naruto, Haruno_Sakura/Uchiha_Sasuke, Tsunade/
      Uzumaki_Naruto, SasuNaru
  Character:
      Uchiha_Sasuke, Uzumaki_Naruto, Haruno_Sakura, Tsunade_(Naruto)
  Additional Tags:
      Orphans, Pseudo-Incest, Shota, Dysfunctional_Family, Teacher-Student
      Relationship, Emotional/Psychological_Abuse, Slow_Build, Psychological
      Drama, Forbidden_Love, Coming_of_Age
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-19 Updated: 2015-07-04 Chapters: 10/? Words: 70585
****** Family Game ******
by Medivha
Summary
     Second Sasuke hits eighteen, he steals custody of his kid
     brother—Naruto. And down the line, their bond starts running deeper
     than just family. SHOTA. SasuNaru.
Notes
     Warnings: dysfunctional family, toxic co-dependency, slow to moderate
     build, eventual boyxboy love, shota later on because of the age gap.
     There will be female on male abuse in this story, which I feel is a
     different form. Sasuke and Naruto are not blood brothers, but that is
     information not obvious to the characters in the story. Sasuke is
     sixteen and Naruto's six, in this chapter.
     Rating upped to explicit, for graphic sexual content in later
     chapters.
***** Leaving *****
                                       .
                                       .
                                       .
 
The office of good news, is the very prison cell of bad memories.
"Get straight to packing. Otherwise you'll miss the next bus," says the clipped
voice of the Director. Her eyes seem narrowed permanently, as if always
scrutinizing. "Once again congratulations on your scholarship. Now acknowledge
it, and get—"
"No."
"What do you mean no? Sasuke?"
Her words ring clearly. Jolting even. Yet he bleeds in his mouth, honing and
concentrating in the core. Discreetly he squeezes a rumpled piece of tablecloth
in his pocket: a masterpiece Naruto's drawn, a present. For him.
"Young man, the semester's beginning tomorrow." She leans forward still perched
behind her desk. "And there will be no more delaying."
A drawing of them together confronting the Director herself—he grips—the first
human portrait ever. Never mind the stick figures because for a fleeting
moment, for what it's worth, he's closing his eyes to see what Naruto sees.
Turns out, the Director's a spitting copy of Naruto's drawings: a figure with
wiry black hair, forced into a high bun, and her bespectacled eyes
asymmetrical.
When silence reverberates, she unhappily folds her hands over her magnificent
wooden desk.
"Listen closely. You've had enough time to digest. And either you leave tonight
before the school semester launches off, or I will have to inform your
benefactor—"
"Naruto," he cuts in, as if bolting awake. "I can take Naruto with me."
Her face contorts in scorn.
"Absolutely not. Naruto stays, you know better," she chews out, like rehashed
spit, but quickly shifts to more persuasive tones. "However if you take this
scholarship, develop financial stability, and perform well in all your
classes…you may request to fill out an application for legal guardianship. In
two years, that is. That is the minimum age for an adult."
"And no one else adopts him," adds Sasuke, as another indisputable caveat.
Again she scowls imperceptibly, and her tone drops like a stack of books—hard,
cold, and sarcastic.
"Young man, that's beyond me ethically and professionally. How you even suggest
stamping Naruto as off-limits astounds me as much as it's disappointing. Now,
please do consider my early recommendations…"
Sasuke's eyes darken, and his heart's thumping a maddening melody.
"There's nobody else. No one. No one will take care of him like me."
"And what do you have to your name, Sasuke? You're nothing but a child." The
Director tilts her head forward, angling her gaze even sharper, wedging in her
speech like a hook, "Of course you two share a history, and I like to believe
that creates a special connection. However, there are plenty of loving families
that could foster Naruto. Give a young boy such as he, the environment and
support necessary."
"But I can't—"
"But you cannot what? Continue speaking like a petty child undeserving of this
prestigious scholarship and I might arrange you another foster home instead."
Sasuke stares at her, drained. Lost for speech and he swallows the swelling in
his throat.
"Give up Naruto. For your sake, and for his," she tells him, you could see she
was playing the saint now.
He doesn't even feel his fists clenching. "That's not possible."
"Well what's going on in that head of yours, then? Seriously explain to me what
you really think. Because what hope is there in staying here stuck together in
the Home?"
Every muscle tightens in anticipation. Needles in his breath, bones, when he
fixes an unblinking gaze to her.
"Because…if Naruto stays and waits for me, I'll come for him. And you—you won't
push it then."
Her bespectacled gaze flickers with softness. "I won't. Not because you asked,
but as orphans here always state their opinions in refusing or accepting an
offer. Understand however that having Naruto wait for you means he could lose
years of a normal family life. Asking him to wait is as selfish as it is
endearing."
"He won't be alone, he won't lose time. Because I'll be here every day. Until I
can take him…" the word, a weighty heady word, "home."
"Well, as of now, you have no home to take him to," she asserts, "And believe
me, you have absolutely only yourself to take care of at this point." She
pushes up her glasses. "This scholarship is your only, best chance."
The only best chance to recreate the family he lost two years ago. In salvaging
their future. He has to go. He's forced to leave Naruto behind. Heart's driving
him mad.
Scarcely has he exited out of the Director's office, before he's running. Not
that he feels himself run, but he is, like something's on his tail. And he
catapults through these wretched halls, through the stale air, and the gray
colors of the orphanage whirl past him. He's panting while this icy hand
squeezes the life out of him. The pain's indescribable, like suffocating and
drowning, and that very essential ingredient for life becomes at stake. Now
he's losing the primary ingredient of his life. Hair's sticking to his face,
and he's sweating.
When he nearly slams through the boys' sleeping dormitory, Sasuke stops and
slows as if gravitationally forced to. No one's here. Dead empty, because
everyone's out doing chores. Everyone's on a schedule. And Naruto too. He can
pack now and not have to face anyone. Pack and leave tonight. Tonight—tonight.
Not tonight, he never wanted to leave…
"Damn it!" Flings the hard suit cases at the furnace from across the room.
Badum!
"Just damn it!" He swipes all the cute toys off his nightstand. They're all
Naruto's.
Tkrap, krap.
"Why?" Why does everyone he's ever had leave? If Itachi stayed, if Itachi's
here. Sasuke's hands shake and he barely covers his clammy face, keeping one
eye wide open just to see the mess he's created. For Itachi's never coming
back.
He sinks to the floor like he's trapped in quicksand. But the cold tiles, lance
up the chill through his pants. So he doesn't stay on the floor too long, even
when the weight of all his thoughts push down. 
Because now the one pillar of his life is toppling over like a sad monument,
always tipped like the Pisa, never falling or crashing—just bent, like
something's off or not right. Two years without Naruto? Of only visiting, but
not living with. What he'll miss…all the moments Naruto will need him…yet split
apart. For the fact is families don't want two, they want only one. Either one
or neither. And that's unacceptable because he'd rather stay in the youth home
together with Naruto than live in separate families.
Another burst of anger surges through his whole body, as Sasuke jolts up and
makes way to his bed. He means to break something, anything, and just have a go
with his fists. However, that's when he notices something. Something he should
have seen from the get-go.
That is, he immediately notices twitching movements under his pillows. As if
some animal's hiding underneath them. Of course, besides the sporadic jerky
motions, the pillows rise and fall rhythmically and quickly.
That idiot!
Without another second, he rips the pillows away, tossing them to the side. And
hiding underneath, is Naruto: small and lying on his back, blond hair matted
over and around a concentrating expression. Sasuke feels his anger wane, you
couldn't stay mad against an expression like Naruto's, and he's softening like
a snowflake making contact with the warm surface. For Naruto this spying,
hiding game's like a mission of intensity and adventure—Naruto doesn't
understand anything he's listening or witnessing, only eavesdropping for the
thrill of being caught.
Naruto blinks up at him, still curled into position. "Awh! You found me!"
"And what if I didn't?"
Wordlessly, Naruto rolls around on the bed, taking up Sasuke's scent. Until
finally two round, enlarged blue eyes—ever optimistic—raises up and he asks,
"Hey S'uke, why did you—why'd you throw everything?"
Instead of answering, Sasuke shakes his head and goes to pick up the said
thrown objects. As soon as he starts, Naruto's by his side helping him. They
together pick up all the little action figurines, and lay it back atop the
nightstand. Naruto brags about how he's collected more, and grins. Without even
looking at the other head-on, Sasuke feels the light of the smile reaching his
peripherals. Dreadful silence grips Sasuke by the heart. Naruto's golden smile,
eyes bright with innocence, and cherubic face.
I'm leaving him…
He floats over to his suit case. Opens the luggage and puts it on the bed.
Minutes go by when he folds all his clothes, setting them neatly for eventual
transport.
I'll be the brother that abandons him…the brother that he hates…
Confusion strikes Naruto at once. "What're you doing, Sas'kay?"
"Packing," he answers flatly.
"Why?"
Sasuke pulls out his bottom drawer. "I'm leaving, that's why."
"Why?"
Ignoring the inquiry, Sasuke loads his clothes into the suitcase. By now
Naruto's hit the age of questioning, incessantly. And at this point, he's
accustomed to the endless string of whys because they never end and there's no
point in encouraging it.
"Where are you going?" begs Naruto, from behind, "Oi! Can I come? Please?"
Sasuke keeps himself turned away, practically leaning forward onto his dresser.
For a brief second, some wetness smudges his eyes, and he rubs it quickly. He
opens his last top drawer, gets ahold of as much as he can carry, before
turning back to his open luggage on the bed.
And Naruto's sitting crouched in his luggage, pleading. "Please can I come?
Pack me too!"
"Naruto," Sasuke breathes out, nearly dropping everything he's holding.
"Can be another mission. I'll hide in here. I promise to be quiet. Promise!"
Naruto flexes his knees to his chest, and practically shakes as he snickers.
"Ne, ne, when you open it, I'll pop out. Scare everyone!"
Before he can even think, Sasuke's voice works on its own, "No. Get up."
"But, but…"
"Now, Naruto. I don't have time."
Begrudgingly, Naruto wiggles out of the suitcase and sits right next to it.
Indian style. Legs crossed, arms crossed, and nose wrinkling in defiance. So
when Sasuke moves in to load his clothes, Naruto plays the role of
supervisor—watches every move, leaning over at every interval. Until finally
Sasuke snaps the luggage shut, and the metallic hinges make a sound that
reverberates in the empty dormitory. The sound shocks Naruto, who jumps off the
bed in that moment.
"I'm…I'm not coming?" chokes out Naruto, panic evident in his shaky voice.
At once, Sasuke looks down at the boy who scarcely reaches up to his thighs.
"You have to stay."
"Why?" Naruto claws at the hems of his shirt. "No. No why do I have to stay?"
The tight fists Naruto makes over his pants, causes Sasuke to grimace. "I can't
take you with me. They won't let me. Do you get it?"
"Then just pack me too! No one will notice—"
"They'll notice. They'll notice right away." And now he's feeling Naruto seize
him wholly, embracing him by the knees. Sasuke swallows so he can speak firmly,
"I'm not really leaving because you'll see me every day. Things won't change. I
promise."
For a long moment they stay still since Naruto doesn't want to let go. Instead
he buries his flushed, cherubic face deeper into the grooves of Sasuke's legs.
Naruto mumbles something incoherent because his high-pitched voice gets
muffled. Until, that is, he peels his face and snaps an open gaze up. Blue eyes
wavering against Sasuke's steady ones.
"But why do you have to go?" he entreats, voice reaching a sharp crescendo of
pain and confusion.
That's when Sasuke kneels down and grips both of Naruto's shoulders. A gesture
which slows time, and blurs the rest of the world around them.
I'm not like Itachi. Leaving, but never coming back.
"For a mission," he says, to which Naruto's eyes brighten in excitement, "I'm
going on a mission and I have to survive several trials. The prize at the end
is that I get to take you with me to a nice place."
"Trials? What are those?"
"Tests. When I pass the tests, I win."
Determination passes over Naruto, and blond brows furrow. "Tch! I know you'll
win, because you're the best. No one can beat you—wait—except for me!"
"But you have to wait for me," Sasuke threads in silkily because a deep part of
him really believes that no one should have Naruto. A deep part of him claws
from within and between his ribs, that this is only a sacrifice in the short-
term. The Director has no idea, therefore she's both right and wrong.
"Okay. When's the mission gonna be over?"
Two years now felt two hundred, especially at the tip of his tongue. "Soon.
Just promise me, you'll wait."
"I promise!" says Naruto, and he stomps his feet before snickering. "I only
want you."
"Good."
And he doesn't ask Naruto why he's sneaking out of chores, because he knows
already why. And he doesn't say much more because enough's been said. And he
doesn't want to make this more of a big deal than it is. Infinite ands. In the
end, Sasuke promises he'll be here everyday—and everyday he'll be here, with
Naruto. Nothing will change, much.
Sasuke moves to kiss his brother's forehead. However in that instant Naruto
tilts up and connects their lips. Naruto gets on his toes, screwing his eyes
shut, in concentration or in joy—and Sasuke doesn't even blink. He's a wall
while Naruto pecks him on the mouth. Shame fills him up, for letting the
infantile habit persist, and now for certain Naruto's old enough to know
better. Especially because the connection lingers on his mouth as some dessert,
and he scowls.
When the inappropriate contact breaks, Sasuke coldly says, "Don't do that
anymore."
Hurt flashes in the wide expression. Almost, Sasuke regrets. Because the
intimate, yet chaste gesture reflects how mother used to show them affection,
and perhaps the only vestiges of their old family life Naruto remembers. And
for this very reason, Sasuke's tolerated Naruto's undying habits—even enjoys
its warmth. But no one else would understand. Besides Naruto isn't some toddler
anymore, and on the outside, it surely looks inappropriate.
The taxi arrives at the break of dusk. Five o'clock. The Director personally
sees him off, congratulating him endlessly. While the whole time, Naruto stands
next to her, bangs overcasting a shadow, but you can see him frowning
dreadfully. They're all outside several paces away from the front of the Youth
Home.
While still holding his baggage, Sasuke calls out, "Naruto. Come here."
Like a jolt of energy, Naruto shoots forward, and nearly knocks him out of
balance. "I don't want you to go. Why do you have to go? Why can't we do the
mission together like always?" he rambles out all the pent up feelings, hugging
Sasuke's knees again.
"Do you trust me?" demands Sasuke, as stern and rugged as his voice can drop.
He needs Naruto to believe him.
In that moment, he feels Naruto nod against him with such vigor. "Yeah. I…I
just don't want you to go without me. I want to be on a mission too, with you…"
With his free hand, Sasuke strokes his kid brother's back.
"Listen." Their eyes meet in understanding. Naruto always knows when he's
serious and when he's not. "When this mission is over, we will never have to
worry about being separated. Ever again."
If only he could say the words, and they'd come true. No, things never work
that way with him. Never again will life be simple. And time never slowed, time
just blurred like he's being rocketed through space. Like the bus he gets into,
with his luggage on his lap, he stares out the window. He watches the
surroundings fade away, be replaced with new surroundings. Never-ending cycles
of unseen territory. If Naruto'd be sitting next him, then the ride would be
remotely pleasurable, asking all sorts of questions, wearing adorable naiveté
like a gown at a ball.
Only takes a glance at the empty seat beside him, to confirm his loneliness. At
that, life drains from him as vampires might have been feeding off him dry.
Pale, weakening, uncomfortably numb, because he has to force himself to
breathe. To actually think to breathe because a brick's not letting his body
free. How is he going to really continue?
The bus stops a couple blocks from his University's dormitory. Drops him off in
a town so different from his whole life, he's questioning if he's in another
country. And in the moment he steps out, he freezes. The city air smacks him,
like a hand to his face, waking him up from a dream.
This is his first time in the city. Alone. Sasuke gets the map from his pocket
to confirm further directions. What would Itachi say? That the city's
different, another culture, another kind of attitude. And while Itachi's
excellent in both settings, he's not. He's not.
Carrying his luggage, Sasuke traverses several blocks. He's surprised at how
many people are flocking the streets at this hour, and the bright lights, and
the sheer luminosity of the dark sky overhead from the collective wakeness of
the town. No stars. No lines and lines of trees and hills. But street lamps,
and posts, and concrete filled the whole of his vision, swamping him down with
unwanted excitement.
This place could actually…do him well.
The moment Sasuke finds his room in the dormitory, after getting the elevator
five floors up, trudging through the head dean…was surreal.
He walks into his room, unsure. Very unsure, expecting to wake up again any
second. Sasuke glances appraisingly at every corner of the dark space—much
smaller than he imagined, but completely moderate. Setting down his suitcase
and bag, he moves in and shuts the door behind. He's about to turn round and
survey his new place of living until a voice cuts in.
"Hey, listen my roommate just came in. I'll call you back."
Darting out of what appears to be the bathroom, a peer of similar height and
defined jaw, smirks at him. "Sasuke right?"
"Right."
"Name's Shikamaru," volleys back the other, lifting his chin up in
consideration.
Sasuke has no appetite for small talk or big talk. But it seems Shikamaru
hasn't the appetite either, when he drawls, "Alright Sasuke, I drew up a
contract here. These are the terms I want to negotiate. Read it over, okay?
Circle anything questionable and write in modifications, and then we'll talk."
The moment Sasuke bothers to peruse the long sheet paper, is the moment he
almost rolls his eyes. Bathroom times, who's to shower first, who's to use the
toilet: and the designated times for morning showers and evening showers. A
paragraph summarizes the order of bringing guests over at certain times, which
couldn't be any time except for Friday nights, and details expunging the use of
marijuana, cigarettes, and alcohol in the room. Then shifting to lighter notes
again, the contract lists laundry rules, mess intolerance, cleaning schedules,
and a highlighted clause about bringing women over. Sasuke's about to toss the
paper into the trash, when he realizes how perfect the very idea of a contract
was.
Just like Shikamaru, Sasuke wants to avoid the intersection of their space as
much as possible. And since Shikamaru's against guests, girls, mess, drugs, and
infringement of privacy. So he signs it. No modifications needed because he
feels exactly the same as Shikamaru.
He wants to be left alone.
Surprised at the nonchalance, Shikamaru momentarily falters. "Hm, just like
that huh? Looks like for once, I'm paired with someone decent."
Without a word, or glance, Sasuke moves for his room. He sees which bedroom's
his: the empty one. The one without any shred of life in it. And when his back
connects with the hard mattress, he glares unto the ceiling before falling
asleep.
***** Sleeping *****
Chapter Summary
     The contact, their breaths and touch, their connection takes him
     places he can't control—them holding each other, grappling and
     latching—is an indescribable portal.
Chapter Notes
     Beta: GoodMorningFlower
     Art: by Emi-Rankai
                                       .
                                       .
                                       .
Was if he read an instruction manual because the first year of University life
passes expectedly. You should have seen it. Took a test or two with eyes
closed; slept through half an exam, he swears.
 
Looks in the mirror once every few days, with water dripping like shards of
broken ice melting, chilling. 
 
Tells him he's failing. Cracks in the frame and grey, and full of sad sorry,
boxing his image:
 
He's all cold angles, and he licks his lips. 
 
In the evenings he gets on a bus. And the ride to the Youth Home, he can't
describe it. Never changes though: how when the grey around him fades, and is
replaced by a whirlwind of orange, red, and blue and everything beneath the
setting sky wavers with feeling. Every dusk with Naruto—he's finally breathing
again. And he twitches at the pins and needles prickling from underneath his
own skin, as if he's just waking up, and he's been comatose all other times.
 
You'd think how he can get the energy to leave every night; how he's got the
drive to leave after Naruto's fast asleep in bed—because leaving over and over
again is…destroying him.
 
One night, Sasuke doesn't leave. He falls asleep squeezing Naruto into him,
with his little brother squirming at the pressure. He's supposed to be back at
the dorms by now. He's supposed to get ready for tomorrow's classes. Supposed
to be responsible and perfect and meet his dormitory's curfew. Yet, together
with his brother they lay; and no matter how close they are, Sasuke needs them
closer. He has no one worrying for him anyway, no Itachi or Mother to call, no
father to inform of him being late, and Shikamaru's probably reveling in the
luxury of privacy.
 
He winces when Naruto shuffles in his grip, saying, "S'uke can you tell me
'bout your day?"
 
"My day," he echoes.
 
"Yeah. I wanna know. You never talked."
 
He squeezes tighter despite the whines and complaints. Because today had been
nothing short of a nightmare. He failed his first midterm, and failed his first
internship interview.
 
Screwing his eyes shut, Sasuke swallows the dreadful details down. He won't
ever let Naruto know he failed terribly. Naruto just wouldn't get it, wouldn't
get the difference between losing a god damned card game and losing the
opportunity of a lifetime. And because what happened, was a sheer mistake. What
happened was, and will never be, thought or conceived or recalled again—
 
Won't tell how seeds rotted in the soil, finally blooming into wretched, toxic
plants this morning, the details which he fights so hard to shun, but couldn't;
opens him up like an evisceration, and he grimaces.
 
Naruto gives him a funny eye. "You have a tummy ache, S'uke?"
 
"No."
 
Not like he ate anything unsanitary or too terrible. Maybe though because he
just didn't eat. Not when swallowing was just as difficult as chewing, and all
you felt was spitting things out. He still felt nauseated actually.
 
"But you look sick. You're makin' sounds like you're hurting real bad."
 
"It's nothing," he lies. But really you should have seen Naruto, like you told
the kid the sky was falling, or something completely unbelievable.
 
Sasuke's curled in, clutching at his abdomen like he's wounded as if to keep
the blood from spattering. But he's not really shot or injured, though. Just
remembering, is all.
 
Remembering all the rejections, and this morning when on his visit here to his
brother, Sasuke imagined putting himself in front of the bus. The railroad, the
top floor of his University, the cars zooming on the crosswalks. Images of him
ending everything flitted all too quickly and all too often, in one short
time—enough to have driven him into the middle of the street.
 
Red hand flashing, saying not to cross as cars roar to life and barreled down
the road. And he's imagined ending it here.
 
What about the promises he made? The promises. To Itachi, to his mother, those
damned promises. To Naruto. Even that's not enough to stop him. This walk off
the plank, driven by the unseen hands of his dead family. Sasuke stepped
forward and dropped his bag. Plopped to the ground, like it was saying goodbye
in punctuation. No more school, work, and no more failures. Didn't hear the
questioning voices of people as he left the safety of the sidewalk and crosses
into a speeding road. Silence plugged him from the inside out, so that the
honking and the blaring falls on deaf ears. He's almost there.
 
Until someone snatched him from behind, like a whip chain, yanking him back,
"Stop!"
 
Shattered. The grey, hideous mirror clattered to pieces. Each glass piece a
distortion of his reflection and his vision's swimming, as he fell back.
 
The shout and the terrible noise of the car veering violently off the road,
pierced his trance like rocks to glass.
 
And that's how the spell broke. Sasuke panted as he woke up. Sleep-walking in
the city, he couldn't breathe, god damn it! Doubled over for the breaths he'd
held. Saw where he truly was—not in the nightmare of soaring from the rooftops
into blackness—but on the concrete pavement. Smelled like dog shit too. People
crowding around him. Skyscrapers looming over him, haughtily gazing down with
their pointy gables and antennas. He's leaning over by a fire hydrant, and it's
rusted. The city smell hit him harder than he hit the pavement.
 
How did he get here? He couldn't remember. Panicking, Sasuke groped himself to
see if he'd been mutilated. Cut apart by time, again. Until that is, the most
assuring baritone reached his senses as if some melody of forbearance,
something you'd hear at a sanctuary or a priest's tone when they absolved you
of sin.
 
"You're just a student," remarked his savior. Grey hair, long face, eyes laden
with age, but the man was nice. "You're young, you have the whole future ahead
of you."
 
With difficulty, Sasuke straightened up. Shame plummeted into his gut like
bricks, because he woke up to the worst reality—in which he'd left Naruto
behind. His heart hammered with adrenaline and he felt dizzy. Dizzy with the
thought he'd almost left the entire burden tenfold on his kid brother.
 
Sasuke met the solid gaze of the man, who's squeezing his shoulder. But this
man's smile really energized him, it was a sincere smile he hasn't seen in ages
like one of those rare lunar eclipses. A sight worth to see, really.
 
"Thank you," Sasuke told him, and he meant it.
 
The man's like fluid, radiating Zen and never flinching. "You should sleep and
eat healthier. Take care of yourself, otherwise…" trailed off the smooth voice,
letting go of him, "you won't need that car to finish the job."
 
Naruto…I broke our promise…
 
That's why that night, that horrid day, he doesn't answer Naruto's question.
And when he's holding his brother, squeezing tighter than usual, Naruto
complains, "S'uke, I can't breathe!"
 
I won't again…
===============================================================================
 
Not even a week since then, Sasuke helps his favorite kindergarten graduate
with homework for the first time. Actual homework. First grade subjects such as
months, years, spelling, reading, writing…
 
When they spell out months together, and he shows Naruto how to spell July in
hiragana, Naruto gets too excited and shoves him aside. "I know, I know! Ne,
let me do it! Let me show you."
 
"You scored a fifty on your last spelling test." He hands over the pen. "All
because you'd rather show off than listen."
 
Naruto stumbles back as if shot. Dewy, misty blue eyes like roses of the sea
bloom under the lamp's light—and Sasuke relaxes in his seat. His gaze roams
over Naruto's little hoodie with the spiral decorating dead center of the puffy
sweater, then to the little pout overtaking the cherubic face. You have to work
real hard to school Sasuke's impassive look, it wasn't easy not melting into a
useless puddle of an older brother. Not with Naruto.
 
"Oi! But I do really know," grates out Naruto, wiggling then very close. He
wraps small hand over Sasuke's, and fights for the pen, "just watch, I can
spell July in both forms."
 
Scoffing, Sasuke leans back, handing the reigns over to his eight-year-old
brother. He expects a dreadful imitation of the right characters for July
because Naruto's handwriting's atrocious, but to top that, spelling's even
worse.
 
"There! Look," points Naruto, waving the pen as emphasis.
 
"So you know only one month out of twelve."
 
"The most important one ever!"
 
Sasuke freezes. July. The characters compactly weave together. Every end of
July, his family held their fire festival, Naruto'd draw him stupid cartoons
for his birthday, and Itachi'd take them exploring. Here he is, reading the
chapter of his best years, in one word. He wishes wherever Itachi was, he'd see
these little conversations, and see how worthwhile their past has been. It's a
stupid, impossible wish, Sasuke can't help but feel it fleetingly seep and
leave his thoughts.
 
Itachi left him. Left them.
 
Finally he looks back into the grinning expression. Sasuke pets Naruto
encouragingly, "Then let's make every month the most important," he says, "So
you can at least spell them correctly, dummy."
 
"No but the most, most importantest one is this one," insists Naruto, putting
his arms far apart to emphasize.
 
"Uchiha-kun." Not Naruto's voice. A woman's.
 
Sasuke gets up from the table, causing the little blond on his lap to scramble
off. "You need to practice," he says lowly.
 
"But, but—hold on!" Naruto panics, because he thinks he's said something
hurtful. "You're going a'ready? Why?"
 
"Calm down, will you? I'm coming back," he assures.
 
"But, but…you promised to stay till I went asleep!"
 
Torn for the moment, Sasuke stands transfixed. He's not sure why he's leaving
now. He heard someone call him, but he must have been hearing things. Looking
at his watch, he could stay for another hour or so at least. However, in his
momentary hesitation, Naruto mounts the chair and equals their heights as much
as possible.
 
Scarcely reaching Sasuke's collar bone, Naruto demands in a growl, and a
mediocre one at that. Like a baby lion with strep throat.
 
"You said—you promised—you were gonna stay, that's what you said!" stomping one
foot for persuasion. It was excellent punctuation, really.
 
The angry puffs of air blow at him. Invitingly warm as Sasuke reaches up
naturally and strokes the ruffled blond hair. Caresses the distended cheeks,
and leans forward. His perfect innocent, kid brother.
 
"You're right."
 
"Eh?"
 
"I want to make sure you sleep well," murmurs Sasuke, letting their foreheads
touch. He watches Naruto's blue eyes like it's the sky and he sees himself
reflecting off the irises this close up. These were really the only mirrors you
could trust. "So I won't go."
 
Being this close, is something they're both used to. It's the gentle tone that
has Naruto flushing madly. "Um, um. 'M not tired yet, I might stay up all night
long…"
 
"Naruto," he breathes, "Don't start."
 
Naruto bites back a snicker, literally bites back. Sasuke kisses the exposed
canines, causing his kid brother to have a giggling fit. So he kisses the
chapped lips, trapping that beautiful laughter and letting it warm his whole
system like steam.
 
"I'll stay up forever and then you can never leave," gets out Naruto between
their mouths.
 
Even though it was said half-heartedly, Sasuke's heart clenches. He lowers
himself further, buries his nose into Naruto's neck. Stays there as he feels
Naruto's arms holding him. He wants Naruto to stay this way. Wants Naruto to be
this small, this optimistic, this innocent forever. He won't let his brother go
through what he's had to go through, won't let his brother fall over the edge,
into the despair of adulthood. When he listens to Naruto's high-pitched voice
play in his ears, he hears himself talking to Itachi—and he'd do anything to go
back to that time.
 
"Uchiha-kun!" the woman's voice nags on louder than a whisper. "Are you okay?
U-Uchiha-kun..."
 
Sasuke ends up pressing his wet mouth onto the burningly hot groove of Naruto's
neck, and getting carried away, leaves a slick trail back to the burning round
cheeks. The whole time, Naruto vibrates in guffaws as if he's getting tickled
torturously.
 
"Uchiha-kun, wake up please, she's looking at you."
 
.
.
.
.
 
Snapping his head up from the cold desk, Sasuke opens his eyes. The woman's
voice nagging in his head belongs to a modest girl sitting beside him…in the
lecture hall. He's in class. In organic chemistry class with—
 
"Professor Haruno's been looking at you," she whispers frantically, and
apologetically, "and I—I thought maybe you'd appreciate it if someone woke you
up, before she gets annoyed."
 
Without saying anything, he nods wearily. He notices how his sudden waking up
yanks the attention of several students sitting in the periphery. Immediately
sensing this, Sasuke steels himself from the penetrating stares because he's
momentarily slipped. Torn from the waking realm and ripped into the tangents of
his kid brother, again. This happens in the middle of conversations, during
work and his commutes, even while taking exams, and especially during
lectures—hears and sees his brother always distracting him.
 
Sitting in the rearmost row, Sasuke rubs his temples. He can feel Professor
Haruno's glaring, like she's shining two emerald rays at him. In fact, he
whooshes a breath of frustration, because she's always upset or mad about
something—always dissatisfied, with him, isn't she?
 
"Anyone? Does anyone care to answer the question?" Haruno, well Dr. Haruno
rather, paces up and down in front of a large bright screen. "No one? How about
you, Uchiha-kun. Good morning, by the way. Perhaps the answer came into your
dream, and you'd like to share."
 
She's not asking. Sakura Haruno never asks. She demands, and in her heels
today, she taps her foot impatiently, burning with a desire…manifesting in her
coy smirk.
 
Some kids sitting up front snicker, slinging entertained glances his way.
They're the same losers who have a fetish for taking pictures of sleeping
students in the library, and Sasuke knows, because he's been victimized by it.
Not that he cares.
 
Narrowing his eyes, Sasuke darts a focused look at the professor. His heart's
still hammering from waking up, pounding in his own throat.
 
"Which problem?" he gets out, over the violent cardiac melody drumming from
within.
 
The snickering explodes into ill suppressed laughter. Professor Haruno crosses
her arms, pushing her glasses up. "What are you three laughing at?" she snaps,
turning to the goon squad occupying the first row, "I'd like to see you all
score perfectly on my next exam, like Uchiha has. Maybe then you'd earn the
privilege of sleeping in my class!"
 
They instantly quit laughing, and he could see from all the way back here,
their bodies stiffening into ridiculed masses of flesh.
 
Haruno goes on with the lesson, though her voice's tinged with unfinished
business. Which he'll probably hear more of when he has to clock into her lab
later—because she's his supervisor too, his dreadful boss. Whatever wasn't
settled today, will be settled tomorrow. And she's annoyed with him, as much as
he's annoyed with her—her constant pushy demands, her constant need of his full
attention—when he gives her his best, she wants more. Nothing he does seems to
quench the thirst in her eyes, and this reminds him of someone. He can't think
of who, but he feels familiar with her thirst, like he's read it somewhere, or
seen it somewhere. Just familiar.
 
That's when the Youth Home calls him.
 
Buzzing, like a cicada in summer, his phone goes off clamoring in his pocket.
 
One glance at the ID, and he's almost rushing out into the halls. They never
call him. In fact, Sasuke holds his breath as he darts through a row of seats,
not caring if he's stepped on someone's bag or feet. Professor Haruno lectures
on despite his hasty, sharp exit: but she sends him a curious glance even so
far as frowning. But he doesn't feed into the momentary connection she's trying
to build, not when his heart pounds to the vibrations of his phone.
 
This is the first time they're calling him. It's always the other way around.
 
Frantically quivering in his hand, he finally answers his cell. "Hello?" he
says, as the white fluorescent lights blind his eyes.
 
"Sasuke," answers a familiar voice, laced with steel strings. "This is the
Director speaking. I have some news, regarding Naruto."
 
"What, what news?"
 
"In front of me I have a signed, and completed form for Naruto's new foster
home," she says crisply, finally fragmenting into sympathetic pauses, "You
asked for me to call if something should come up. Well, this seems the real
deal. This person's passed all background checks. And he wants to take Naruto
home."
 
"When."
 
"This afternoon. To a Mizuki—"
 
Sasuke's hand tightens, almost enough force to crush the phone. "I'll be
there."
 
When he hangs up, a moment of stillness overtakes him. Absolute transfixation,
as the information sinks in. Naruto can't choose whether or not to be in foster
care; not when the Youth Home's overcrowding dilemma adds pressure: and even
though he's given Naruto a cell, hardly does he ever receive a call. But why
wouldn't Naruto call him at least about this? When he'd promised to call
whenever and if ever something's to happen?
 
Before he knows it, he's storming down the stairs and waiting for the bus. He'd
take a cab, but he's low on dough.
 
And screw class. Professor Haruno didn't take attendance even, so he's marked
absent. Was absent anyway, his mind wasn't in that room any more his body's
not. What's important anyway is seeing Naruto before some stranger steals his
kid brother away. His. No one else's. No phony foster family could reproduce
their bond.
 
The bus arrives, stopping his panic. Pulls over long and nice like a shuttle,
pristine, and white smeared with blue—the same bus, and probably the same
damned driver too. Yet the ride instead of relaxing like it always does every
evening, transforms into a grueling trip over the Styx. He's thinking how to
stop this foster family from kidnapping Naruto.
 
Because in all the movies he's seen with Shikamaru, the hero always comes up
with some intense rescue plan. So every second, minute by minute, his mind's
blank like a neglected wall, and he hates himself more. There's no plan. Unless
you considered running away with Naruto a plan, but that's not the glorious
kind in movies.
 
Sasuke's nails digs into his palms. He asks the bus driver, what she'd do in
his shoes.
 
She seems sore as hell about it. "Are you kidding me?" she asks, you could tell
she wants to be left alone.
 
"I mean to say," Sasuke explains, some hope in his throat, "would there be a
loophole you'd find? Maybe say the right kinds of things. There's always the
perfect words to say in a given situation, isn't there?"
 
"What?" she says again. And he hates these people, the ones always needing you
to repeat the same thing over and over again.
 
The AC from above blows down on his perspired temples, sickening him. Anyway he
still asks confidently, "The perfect words. You believe in that? If you wanted
to stop someone from leaving, would there be anything to say that'd stop them?"
 
Now if she was sore before, she's bleeding with rage. "I'm driving, can't you
see that? Get back behind the line, kid."
 
He didn't even know he crossed a line to begin with. He steps back.
 
"You're terrific, a great bus driver, one of the best," he deadpans, "Get all
the concentration you need."
 
She then smiles, wagging her brows at him. He almost tells her she drives him
crazy, with how stupid she is. But it's his stop.
 
Finally getting to the Youth Home, Sasuke makes his way to the boys' dormitory,
and finds Naruto's back facing him, packing away. At the glimpse of blond hair,
Sasuke freezes completely. Watches the small, lithe frame of his brother,
crouching by the bed they used to share, stowing away all the toys, all his
clothes into an orange bag.
 
This time, Naruto's leaving.
 
The greatest pain he's ever felt since Itachi left him, now strikes him
completely weak.
 
"Naruto..." he calls out.
 
Jolting, Naruto turns. "'S'uke you—you're here."
 
"Why didn't you call me, dummy?" he says, but not before he feels his brother
pound into him. "Oi," he huffs at the impact, annoyed.
 
Naruto hugs him tightly, voice muffling, "Didn't wanna bother your mission.
'Cause you always come around bed time," excited chirps, "ne, ne you're coming
too right?"
 
Glaring down into hopeful orbs, made him more depressed.
 
"No, I'm not coming. You'll be in another home, and I'll," suddenly a lump
bulges in his throat, and he swallows, "…we'll be lucky if I can still see
you."
 
"Why?" pleads Naruto, sounding confused, "Why won't I see you?"
 
"Because strangers usually don't trust other strangers, simple. Strangers don't
care about other strangers. And we're strangers to them."
 
At the explanation, Naruto lets go but stays in place. You could tell a real
argument's about to start.
 
"That's not true. You said a stranger helped you go on the mission. That's what
you said."
 
"Don't take what I say and use it against me, Naruto. You going back to foster
care is not good for us," he drawls, before crouching down. "And I have some
important things to say to you."
 
And now that they're on eye level, Naruto smiles crookedly. However upon seeing
the serious expression on his older brother, the smile collapses into a frown,
burning with innocence, "What things, tell me!"
 
"No, I'm going to teach you some things, and you have to show me you
understand."
 
Naruto furrows his brows. "Okay! Tell me, tell me. I bet it's something cool!"
 
In that moment, Sasuke reaches into his pocket and unsheathes his phone. Albeit
the cellular is the oldest generation, it's fully functional, and he opens it
since it does fold in on itself. When he shares the view, Naruto leans on him
with piqued interest. What's more is he feels Naruto's shallow breaths puff
over him, telling him just how intrigued his kid brother is. And the delicate
pressing of Naruto's small hands against his shoulder, light pressure signaling
him just how unconsciously Naruto depends on him.
 
"Oh I have one too. You gave me it to play games on." Naruto's always quick to
announce what he has and what he's done. "But I beat all the games and I got
bored."
 
Grabbing Naruto's wrist for punctuation, Sasuke sharply retorts, "I gave you
this for you to call me, not for games. And now I want you to learn how to send
me messages."
 
"Like letters? Or drawings."
 
"Letters. Do you not see the keyboard? Dobe."
 
Naruto growls and rips away. "I know! I know how to do that! Jerk!"
 
And now Naruto's whirled away from him in full pout mode and Sasuke feels his
patience wear thin. Because all the pressure. The pressure of a whole ocean
bearing down on him, of losing Naruto, losing his family again, all happening
in this fleeting moment. And while he's trying to crunch the essence of their
time together, for Naruto to act so childishly...Naruto must not understand.
 
"Get over here now," he commands, leaving not a cadence of question.
 
"No."
 
"I said get over here!"
 
"No, I don't wanna write no letters!"
 
Sasuke inwardly cringes at the remark. "You don't want to write to me?" he says
slowly as if the words are hard to believe. "You won't miss me?"
 
Seeing Naruto shiver to a stop, he adds, "I won't accept that, Naruto. You will
write to me because I want you to write to me. I want to have something from
you everyday. I need it, because I need you."
 
Like lightning, Naruto pounds back into him, hits him straight like a thrown
sack. Sasuke grunts at the sudden force, but his arms move on their own accord.
No one's around. Just them. And as his eyes drift shut for a moments, he
returns Naruto's embrace. For a kid, though, Naruto could squeeze the blood
circulating out of his legs like a damned vice grip of a machine: so
unbelievably perfect. He feels Naruto's hands clutch a ball of his pants in
each hand, and a warm face nuzzling into him.
 
Until he feels a wetness soak through his pants. Sasuke snaps his eyes open.
 
Now, Naruto's trembling and gripping tighter. "You really...you really..." the
muffled voice chokes off into another bout of shaking.
"Speak clearly," Sasuke demands, but inside his heart's racing. Naruto
hardly...cries.
 
Each rare jewel flows and pools in the corners of wide blue, brimming.
 
"What you said. Y-you mean that. I'm happy." Naruto grins despite the gleaming
unshed tears. However in the next moment, he quickly rubs the wetness away as
if it was all an accident. "Gross. Someone's makin' onions in here," jokes
Naruto, looking off to the side.
 
Sasuke stares in fascination. Unable to say a word, unable to move, or caress.
All he feels is Naruto clinging onto him, and they're not in the Youth Home
anymore. They're on soft ground, under a blaring spotlight, and pleasant warm
air. The contact, their breaths and touch, their connection takes him places he
can't control—them holding each other, grappling and latching—is an
indescribable portal. Like astral projection, soaring when they run together
hand in hand. And when small fists pound into him in a tantrum, they're
trudging through the swamps, unable to overcome the quicksand of their
differences. Or completely ship-wrecking, when he feels Naruto's wet tears
through his pants, he's drowning.
 
All of this swoops over him, and he could do nothing but stare in fascination
at how weak he was to this seven-year-old.
 
Naruto wipes his nose along the sleeves of an orange tee. "But I…I need you
too, S'uke," comes the mumble.
 
He breathes, finally breaking out of his stupor.
 
"Good."
 
Blond wild fringes stickily cast a shadow which is soon illuminated by a
brightening smile. The signature smile. Naruto the forever cock-eyed optimist,
crying only when some unbearable goodness weighs down, always looking for a
reason to believe or to hope.
 
Unconsciously, Sasuke tightens his fists. "One more year, Naruto," he says
lowly, "then you're mine."
 
That's when Naruto yanks him down with shocking force, drawing their faces to
just centimeters apart. On his tip-toes, he bends Sasuke to his level like a
tall tree branch, to pick the fruits—Sasuke's cold lips. And numb to the
feeling as if the contact's air on skin, he doesn't flinch, he's stiff like a
wall. Not fluid, like he melts in his dreams, pressing back with an unbounded
affection; not reciprocating in the way he needs to. In fact he simply lets his
brother chastely kiss him on the mouth, as he always does with this habit from
infanthood that's never disappeared, only solidified.
 
As quickly as it came, Naruto pulls away, hops back, and grins.
 
However the kiss leaves a lingering taste on Sasuke's mouth, something
indescribable. Warm yet familiar. A scent in the wind and he glances around to
see if anyone's around, sharing this moment, stealing their intimacy. Yet
they're still alone. He looks back to his brother and faces Naruto's classic
cock-eyed expression: a squinting blue eye, while the other trembles in
determination.
 
He's testing how I'd react. After a long moment of them staring, a long moment
of considering, Sasuke scoffs, tilts away, hiding his smile just in time.
 
"What?!" demands Naruto angrily, brows knitting together.
 
Glancing furtively to catch the indignant expression blazing behind him, Sasuke
pushes his hair back. "Nothing."
 
"Liar, liar, liar!" comes the visceral accusation, "I saw that look! Just tell
me!"
 
"Come here."
 
That is, when he invites Naruto onto his lap, he's almost knocked backwards by
the blond bullet shooting at him.
 
"Okay so you tell me. Huh? What is it?"
 
This time Naruto's good, carefully listens to him. Finally the tension smoothes
out, and Sasuke masterfully places Naruto on his knee while sitting on their
former bed. He teaches the whole business of e-mailing, text messaging, even
setting up accounts and passwords, keeping Naruto closely wound on his lap.
 
"If you ever lose this phone, you get on a computer anywhere and..."
 
"But, but! I don't know 'bout computers," cries Naruto, eyes wide and voice
pitching up, "Can't we just talk regular-like?"
 
"Getting on your e-mail is exactly the same whether on a phone or computer.
Same website, same buttons, same everything, understand?"
 
Stubborn, hard shakes of a blond head, reminds him of a ruffled puppy. "I don't
care! Because I don't want no computers—" Of course seeing Sasuke's ill
threatening expression, Naruto chokes off, and laughs nervously and smacks
Sasuke's shoulder. "I'm kidding! Ne, ne, I always trick you. I can do this. I
can do anything…but I…"
 
A moment of silence tethers them together. Until Naruto raises his head, his
pink lips quirking in a grin, "I just…I just want you. Is that bad?"
 
"We'll find our way, but this is back up. In case I can't see you."
 
"I'll run away if I can't see you."
 
"Don't."
 
"I'll spit in their faces and then run away—"
 
Adrenaline saps out of his veins, too quickly. He's draining of energy all too
quickly. Scarcely can Sasuke keep his own against Naruto's buzzing energy. He
collapses. Unfolds slowly as much as he fights to stay straight. Ends up
flattening on the bed. He can't anymore; the rollercoaster ride's finally
stopped. Naruto follows him to his downfall, and sprawls over him, and he feels
his little brother's thin legs and arms wind around his own. He melts into the
mattress, with Naruto straddling him.
 
"I'll draw on all their walls of how they're stupid. Stupid if they think we
can't see each other," rants Naruto, mounted atop him.
 
Sasuke looks up with half hooded eyes. Sometimes Naruto becomes quite the
motivational speaker.
 
"While they sleep I'll draw on their faces. I'll put bad stuff in their
shampoos, put traps around their house—"
 
"Enough…Naruto…"
 
Huffing, his little brother crosses his arms. "You don't believe me? I will.
I'll show everyone how bad I am. They'll be sorry for taking me away, they'll
be even sorrier for separating us."
 
Sasuke turns his head off to the side, away from the star radiating so
intensely. But Naruto leans over, laying atop him, and bumps their foreheads.
So Sasuke turns back, and lets himself be exposed. Now his little brother can
read him like an open transcript—and this time, Sasuke's too tired…too filled
up with the hedonistic want of holding, of embracing, of warmth to care. What
he held back before is seeping through, like a brimming tub of water.
 
"I love you S'uke," murmurs Naruto.
 
Instinctively, he tilts up. Recaptures the sweet taste lingering from before.
And at the pressing of their lips Naruto jostles back in a fit of laughter.
Sasuke fights the urge to reconnect them into another embrace. But he'd
interrupt the laughter, and he listens to the giggles popping the air like
fireworks. Explosive, divine, enthralling. He'd trade everything to hear this
melody, over and over again, so sweet enough like the mornings when the birds
chirp in spring.
 
"S'uke, can I sleep with you?"
 
"Don't ask stupid questions," he whispers tiredly.
 
Naruto buries into him. "Don't wanna go."
 
Asleep. He falls asleep. Dreams that he and Naruto talked for longer. Dreams
that they're home again, with mom, father, and…Itachi. Sasuke's jaw slackens as
he falls deeper into slumber. Slips into the bliss of the past, and Naruto's
warmth guides him. Lids are as heavy as bricks, Sasuke can't flutter them open,
even as Naruto shakes him.
 
"Sas'kay! Wake up!"
 
His head lolls before he looks up into the begging eyes of his brother. "What,
Naruto?" he whispers, half-unconscious.
 
"You fell asleep before I did," comes the complaint.
 
Sasuke jerks up suddenly. "How long?" he grates out, fumbling for the time.
 
"H-hey not fair S'uke. You went somewhere nice, didn't you? And I'm left out!"
cries out Naruto, "If I fall asleep first, then it's okay."
 
"Naruto, what are you talking about? Get off me."
 
Takes a ten second staring contest, before Naruto grumbles and dismounts. "You
said we could take a nap…S'uke you said that. Heard you."
 
He knows for a fact he didn't say that. Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose,
unfolds from the bed, and checks Naruto's bag. Asks his brother if he's packed
everything: toothbrush, all his underwear, and…Kurama. He finds the nine-tailed
fox tittering on the nightstand's edge much to his disdain. Why does Naruto
still keep this stuffed animal? No. Don't think about this now.
 
"Kurama doesn't like bags," Naruto answers smartly. "So 'm gonna carry'im."
 
Before he can consider shoving Kurama in the bag anyway, Naruto intercepts the
movement. Throws himself over the bag, yelling, "Stop! Stop it Sas'kay! Kurama
doesn't like it. He wants me to hold him."
 
"Not a 'he'. An it."
 
"Kurama hears everything you say…" trails off the high-pitched whine.
 
"Enough Naruto. You're going too far."
 
"No," roars the other, "you're the one going too far!"
 
At that, Sasuke scowls and tries to rip Naruto away from the bag. However no
matter how much force he uses—he can't tear his brother away. The defiant
expression only emblazons too.
 
"Jerk! I won't let you," snaps Naruto, digging deeper into the bag. Protecting,
blocking. And then glancing at the fox in a pale hand's chokehold, assures,
"Don't worry Kurama, I won't let S'uke put you in a cage."
 
At this point Sasuke whirls away, squeezing the damned toy, almost tossing it
into the furnace. Because Naruto won't give up. Naruto won't give this wretched
animal up, no matter what he does. As much as he wants to end this now, Sasuke
flings the plush back over to Naruto. Another time. He'll deal with this for
another, better time. Right now, they've got other matters to deal with.
 
Naruto happily catches Kyuubi, as if catching a balloon of treats from the
clouds. "Oh Kurama, you're safe. Did Sas'kay hurt you?" whispers Naruto gently,
"Sas'kay's a teme, and jealous. Forgive him."
 
Brows twitch, and so does his eye. "Stop with the stupid talk."
 
"See?" Snickers fill the air like wisps of fire. "He wishes he had you too.
S'uke secretly wants to be your friend."
 
That's when the door from the main hall slams open.
 
Tack!
 
When the Director walks in, she carries a religious air. Her high bun and
conservative attire speaks dryly and silently like a withering stale loaf of
bread, very disagreeable and unpleasant. Heels clack across the dormitory, and
she swoops a hold of Naruto's free hand. The other's busy holding Kurama. She
drags him by the wrist, assuming totalitarian control. She successfully, if not
violently, wedges obliquely into their gravity, storming the whole area clean
of any depth or feeling. Like a vacuum.
 
"Now Sasuke, make yourself useful and help with the bags," she asks simply.
Automatically. Before she drags Naruto unkindly by the wrist.
 
He's meeting Mizuki. He'll see who's taking his brother away. With the
curiosity burning him down to ashes, Sasuke clutches the bags and he trails
down the halls. What do they look like? Do they have a disagreeable smile, or
are they clean, and heaven forbid if they smell because Naruto's sensitive to
odors. And Naruto's also very quirky with millions of strange tendencies;
biting, sucking his own thumb, too many to name since there's just so many
little details. Little, almost unseen, peculiarities: only Sasuke'd know them
by heart to thwart them. Or foster them.
 
Foster. Foster parents only put a roof over, and throw food in the fridge. But
as for the details! The fleeting details, unlike the routine cycle of sleeping
and eating, they're not so obvious. Certainly not routine, instead completely
in the moment. Details can be lost and disappear forever.
 
They all get outside in the blaring autumn chill, and Naruto's shivering.
Without thinking, Sasuke sets down the bags and unravels his scarf. He wraps
the warm length around Naruto's neck twice and zips up the orange jacket over
it.
 
"But S'uke, now I'm hot!" Naruto complains, but pulls on the scarf with a
twinkle of admiration. "Do I hafta?"
 
"Don't get sick dobe," he warns, to which Naruto wrinkles his nose.
 
"It's not even cold!"
 
Sasuke glares, causing Naruto to fidget unhappily. "Keep it zipped," he orders.
 
"The whole way?"
 
"Naruto..."
 
"F-fine!" Naruto huffs and snaps his gaze away from Sasuke's narrowing eyes.
"But I never get sick," he mumbles.
 
That's when the Director cuts in, "Mizuki-san's waiting."
 
The average sedan parked right in front of them, blinks at them. Mizuki's car.
Trunk pops open, inviting to be filled with luggage. But Sasuke remains
unmoving.
 
"Let Mizuki take the bags himself."
 
"Sasuke," admonishes the Director, although somewhere in her voice is agreeing.
 
"Yeah! I dare Mizuki to come out!" snickers Naruto, oblivious to the tension,
yet loyally following Sasuke's executive voice.
 
Many a second passes with no sign or indication of Mizuki's compliance. Thus,
the Director sighs before bending down for Naruto's bags. However, in that very
moment, Mizuki unfolds from the car and crosses around onto the sidewalk.
Sasuke watches the man like he's some new species of being, and every detail he
glosses over. The nose, narrow and punitive, grayed hair withered, and teeth
sharp and unsympathetic, skin dull without light, clothes worn belongs to a
delinquent unfitting of a man his age. In a word, Mizuki's undeserving. To send
Naruto away to this creature's den, is to send him rotting in Mizuki's foul air
and presence.
 
Quite contrarily to the very smell of him, Mizuki smiles. It's slanting with
jagged teeth showing. "Heard about you from the Director. Sasuke Uchiha?"
 
"He's my brother!" intercedes Naruto, scowling as if offended by Mizuki's tone.
 
Ignoring Naruto spiking energy, Sasuke never removes his discerning gaze. And
Mizuki laughs rather nervously, as if the scrutiny might unveil something.
Something bad. Of course Naruto's busy acting cool, pretending to understand
the gravity: hands in pockets, lips twisted into a pout, and brows furrowed in
mock concentration.
 
At the peak of Naruto's intensity, or rather intense game of charades, Mizuki
leans forward and pets him. The man ruffles wild yet soft blond hair like its
some ball of fluff. The gesture causes Sasuke to narrow his eyes into
distrusting slits. Noticing this, Mizuki offers, "You know, the Director
mentioned how close you two were. I'll have to ask my wife if she'll mind
having you over sometimes."
 
Wife. Who'd marry this scum? Sasuke didn't feel hopeful. "Go ahead. Ask."
 
"Of course Naruto has to be good, right Naruto?" prompts Mizuki, but serving it
all too blandly.
 
Naruto huffs loudly and his lips curl into a scowl. "I'm good. When I wanna
be."
 
"Hm. You don't know how very eager we are to have you," adds Mizuki, who now
straightens up, retracting a hand away from the golden mess. "My wife can't get
over how cute Naruto is, and we're lucky."
 
Sasuke softens visibly. He's getting reassured and needs it. Needs to hear the
genuine tone backing those words because anyone who has Naruto is lucky. And
the icy tendrils gripping his heart loosens up a bit, since Mizuki's saying the
right things. The things he's never heard from other foster parents, about
gratitude and even admiration.
 
Despite the reassuring statements, Sasuke holds his breath when Mizuki takes
Naruto by the hand, leading his kid brother into the car. Time slows, heart
beat's loud. Painful. He doesn't breathe, not until Mizuki clicks the door shut
after Naruto. Clicks the trunk shut after stuffing it full of luggage. At the
very sound of the engine roaring to life, the air changes into metal, he just
can't breathe. Wants to sink into the quicksand of the overbearing pain,
because he can't fight it down, like an invisible hand digging into him.
 
And that's when Naruto's blue optimistic orbs glare at him through the backseat
car window. Naruto's watching him. Pouting replaced with obsessive fixation,
Naruto's instinctive need to gauge his reaction. Naruto always looks up to him.
 
No. He can't let Naruto see his pain. Sasuke squares his jaw and schools the
most impassive expression. He nods once.
 
Naruto's mouthing some words. "I promise."
 
Then the car speeds off into the distance. The exhaust pipes let out fumes of
gray clouds. He doesn't move, not until the last tendril of smoke disperses. A
wisp even reaches out to him. Sasuke finally breathes in.
***** Runaway *****
Chapter Summary
     Asking if he loves him, like asking if he loves oxygen or water, or
     gravity, as if the word yes would answer. When in fact his very
     existence, is answer alone, and that is all he could truly say.
Chapter Notes
     Beta: GoodMorningFlower
                                        
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The next time he sees Naruto, it's on Christmas Eve. One month later.
How each week's spent with nightmares running rampant, it was a ball. A grand
party. Ghouls of revenge standing by the windows, and wraiths of dripping
disdain at his bedpost, and man you really should have been. He was after all
the chaperon, and a great host.
Swears though he should sleep. Call this waking nightmarish party to an end.
Every slip or flutter of his eyes, and he's jolted back awake checking his
phone.
He rubs his face in with clammy hands. He misses. Missing the different shades
of smile, the amplitudes of heat, the widening blue eyes sometimes begging and
sometimes stubborn, sometimes completely unknown to him. He misses. Absence, it
makes the heart sick of fondness, and more obsessive. He's obsessed, he's…
"Wanna see my room Sasuke?"
Why did he let them separate? Should have ran away together, they could have
done it.
"Even got my own bathroom!"
And finally, on this Christmas Eve morning—with no school and an actual
invitation—he's face to face with the very round expression of his kid brother.
Fixating at him, longing, and capturing every single movement of his.
"And Kurama says he likes that I have two closets. Says he likes sleeping in
one of them. So stupid, right?"
Sasuke grits his teeth. He can't meet the gaze. Except how. How? How
could they keep him away for so long? They did this on purpose, probably
laughing and recording his reaction. He really walks around the space like a
shipwrecked sailor on shore, patting the sand, Sasuke must look so god damned
helpless, what with four weeks without Naruto was time spent in a dark prison,
rendered blind.
This moment rapidly dances in his vision. Like a whirlwind. A storm, a pent up
storm. You should see Naruto, though. Anyone with functioning senses could tell
the kid's crazy and madlike with joy. Naruto's already forgetting about him.
Hatred and jealousy torrents in his veins, up to the throbbing vein in his
neck. He feels his own pulse, and clenches his fists.
"That's all you have to say to me?" he says, surveying the bedroom. "Kurama and
how fantastic this place has been?"
Skidding to a nervous stop, Naruto blinks. "But, but…I'm just happy for Kurama.
He has his favorite habitat now, he likes closets. But we never had an actual
closet before—"
"You don't know what you're talking about." Habitat, that's a new word. He's
missing Naruto's new vocabulary. What else.
"And I have so many toys. Kurama gets jealous." Running to the corner, Naruto
pries of a lid of a plastic box. "See? I always win at show and tell now."
Muscles are deadening. What is this feeling? He expected so many damned things,
but this. He hadn't even considered this. And Sasuke uncrosses his arms, a
painful whoosh of breath escaping. He understands. Naruto will forget about him
in no time, his brother will choose this life. It's practically perfect. Naruto
will abandon him, like Itachi.
"You two boys get comfortable, get the fireplace going downstairs," calls out
the wife from the kitchen, "because we're having a feast soon!"
No. The feast's inside him. Parasites eating, termites digging, and the holes
rendered in the heart make it so difficult to breathe. Like the way the
curtains reek, the smell of abandonment and uncleanliness sickening him,
swaying him. He follows the scrambling figure downstairs, never failing to
catch the dusty edges, the spots on the floor, and yet…
He can't unsee the sorrow melding under Naruto's eyes, as wretched dark
circles…he can't—
Bam. Bam.
Sounds of chopping and dicing slice the air. And the cackling of a sizzling
oven roast sprinkle the silence. This could have been a beautiful home…
Kneeling on an armchair by a frozen pane of window, Naruto glances back
eagerly. "I love fire," he says.
Finally they're alone, while Mizuki and his wife work on dinner in the kitchen.
And without their prying eyes, he's waking more and more. Breathes shallowly,
as if fearful they'll lurch out of the kitchen any second, and he's wide awake.
Yet, the coldness in his bones just won't melt. You know about arthritis, how
old folk contract the pain in their joints, and he's thinking what if arthritis
came from a cold from inside? He can't shake off the pain nor the cold, and he
can't shake off Naruto's degrading appearance.
Like the changes are written in letters. Naruto's paler, and dark shadows
circle around disproportionately large blue eyes. And when Sasuke squeezes the
small, soft, and bare hands, they're cold. You should have felt those perfectly
soft hands, you'd get the arthritis too just from touching. Because even after
their brief contact long ago, he feels the chill snapping his tendons like
shattering ice.
So he gets the fire going. And not because the foster mom told him to. But
because he needs this fire more than anything right now, and so does his
brother.
The whole while Naruto sits by the window, puffing at the glass, creating
clouds, and drawing shapes onto the condensation with jabbing fingers.
They're alone as they can get. Sasuke casually inserts, "You don't say much to
me."
He sees Naruto shift nervously from his peripherals.
"You too," murmurs Naruto, voice muffled when he presses his face against a
frozen window pane.
"I have nothing to say."
Naruto shivers at the icy retort. He turns to stare at Sasuke's back.
"Well me neither, jerk."
When Sasuke glances back, their eyes clash like winds scraping and scarring
against another.
Almost immediately, Naruto sinks in fear, however curls his lips in stubborn
rebuke.
"Stop looking at me like that. Just stop."
However Sasuke's eyes chill further. "Come here Naruto."
This time, there's no whys, no whats, no questioning, no arguing. Naruto
scampers forward shaking, brows acquiver. He gasps when Sasuke snatches his
hands into a tight grip.
"Don't lie to me," he warns, tightening his hold.
"Sa-Sasuke—" Naruto winces as the grip intensifies.
"Why do you avoid me so much?"
"I'm not, just let go—"
"Look at me and don't lie, Naruto."
Naruto gasps, before struggling to keep steady eye contact as if Sasuke's
intensity crushes him.
"Answer my question."
And the question, as always, is never truly said in words. Expressed by the
touch, by sign, and feeling—so that a flash of pain flits both their
expressions.
Bowing his head, Naruto whispers, "They say—that you're keeping me from a
normal life."
"A normal life with them," finishes Sasuke understanding perfectly. "And you
agree with them Naruto? That I stop you from a normal life?"
Stupefied, Naruto says nothing, as his mouth hangs in shock.
"Is that why you stopped calling?"
Naruto lets out a strangled noise. "No, no, that's not true. I don't believe it
at all!"
"They want to keep you," drawls Sasuke, finally letting go. "They want to adopt
you. But I'm in the way. As long as I'm around, you won't say yes to them."
"Don't say anymore. I only want you. You promised me, S'uke…"
"I can't. Not yet."
"But. You. Promised. You promised, you'd come for me!" The crescendo in
Naruto's voice, sends his blood curling. "And I'm waiting and I don't want no
one else!"
You'd never hear a clearer, louder, and a more genuine song in your whole life.
Convinces him instantly like a war drum riling him up, even for causes he never
thought he'd believe in...yet...
Then he sees the dark circles shadowing Naruto's wavering gaze. Distracting and
disarming his focus.
Sasuke swallows the rising anger. "So tell me. How are they treating you?"
"'M just tired," he mumbles unhappily, swaying at Sasuke's intensity. "They
never pick me up from the bus stop. Not like you do."
"What?" he grates out, flutter of anger in his heart. It's not safe for Naruto
to walk alone, not ideal.
"But that's not it!" Naruto flushes, finally color in his face, surely about to
sing another convincing declaration. "When you picked me up, we go back
together, we spend time together. 'N I tell you everything that happened in
school! And you always gimme good advice S'uke, but they don't do that. They
don't got good advice to give. They don't even listen like you do."
"We call every day, but you choose to keep to yourself." A pause, till he tells
the kid, "Unacceptable Naruto, do you understand?"
Clouds overcast Naruto's brightness.
"But...but..." He frowns deeper like he's thinking out the words. "'M not…'m
not allowed to call you. I hide the phone. They said if I listened to 'em then
they'd let you come for Christmas. I wanted to see you for Christmas."
Finally the truth unveils. Like the thick red curtain on stage, yanked apart
too soon, and none of the actors are in costume, and the scenery's all off. He
knew those fucking, god damned imposters were all too fake—he knew—
Truth rains down like hail and snow, and Sasuke turns away just in time to hide
the coldness in his eyes. Instead of answering he at last ignites the fire in
the hearth. The orange flames burst suddenly. Booming in his ears, like an echo
of his own internal eruption. Despite Naruto squeezing his leg for attention,
he lets his body focus on the kindling embers, while an icy chill splits his
insides into fragments. Icicles sharp and jabbing, and tearing. Shredding.
Naruto keeps the pressure on his thigh, but soon he can't feel that either, and
he wants to smash the metal pole against the wall. Tear this place apart,
shatter the photo frames, pierce the windows stabbing it just the way his ego's
been. Mizuki's more than foul, to connive his eight year old brother. He almost
burns his hand. Especially as Mizuki and his wife steal his brother away into
their grimy hands when they can't provide, not like he can. Shallow quick
breathing and he can't see straight.
Sasuke clenches his fist, grabs Naruto, and he pulls them to the door, "Let's
go!"
Run away.
Jerked forward by Sasuke's force, Naruto frantically stammers, "Really?"
"I'll take you to my University, we can pack, run away before the police,"
Sasuke chokes off, what is he saying, "they'll give up on us in a week, we can
find another place to stay."
And the worst part of it all, Naruto grins and nods. "Okay. Just let me get
Kurama, just wait a sec, I'll be really quick."
Naruto would blindly follow. But before either of them could move, the furious
weather blasts at them. Like a blizzard, a wind blows through the open door,
like he's opened a door to hell, and all the biting elements lash at them, all
the snow, hail, ice gusting at them relentlessly, and he's struck completely
stupefied.
But then, Sasuke hears. Sways forward at the distant sound of an echo, blowing
into the room. The sound of cawing, of the crows.
In a breath, he slams the door shut because this isn't happening, this isn't
real and he's losing it. Practically leaning over and pressing his back against
the door like he's expecting a monster, some ogre, some scavenging demon to
break in. But he can hardly blockade the sound of the raven, synergizing and
paralleling his pants, his very own booming deafening heart beat.
Confused, Naruto blinks and raises his eyes in a gesture that begs for an
explanation.
"We…can't," Sasuke manages, hollow.
Because no matter where they run, he'll still hear the dreadful echoes, the
wretched beak parting and screaming, like knives beating down on his flesh. He
leads them away back into the crucible of the broken home.
Disappointment blows off the excitement like an explosive bomb, and Naruto
snorts, "I knew it." Then a sly kind of mocking, only children are capable of,
overtakes Naruto, "I tried to make you jealous of my toys. Wanted you to take
me away. Because I miss you."
He wants to say, I miss you too idiot, but the words die off. He swallows at
the way Naruto's eyes darken into a cobalt blue, promising to offer him the
depth, promising to fill his every need, the clawing void inside of him. He
can't think. He needs. The next thing he feels, is Naruto wrenching him down to
a scant inch apart. Hears the breaths of resolve huffing from his brother, and
Sasuke feels his whole skin awaken.
"I love you," whispers Naruto, before pressing up completely.
Naruto kisses him and the heat between them's fluid, like sour sweet juice, and
the instinct of long being starved, of being hungry takes over him. He misses,
god damn it, he misses so much. And he clenches up, letting those lips brush
over his, tasting the affection like glazed fruit: the most divine, and soft,
and not even the hideous dark kawing could penetrate the moment.
Though the experience's cut short as Naruto jumps back, grinning. Staring
expectantly at him. Waiting. Fixating, gauging, tittering over the edge, Naruto
balances over a tight rope, about to fall and break if Sasuke doesn't say the
right words. And he swallows.
"Do you want me to pick you up from the bus stop?"
"Yes! Can you really? Can you really…" Naruto trails off, out of fear that it's
a joke.
Sasuke's mouth curves up as sudden as magic. "I'll work it out somehow."
Slamming into him in another tight embrace, Naruto nuzzles against him.
"That's the best Christmas present, ever! In the whole wide world. I'm gonna
see you every day. I'll tell you everything—so much to say a'ready!"
He'll arrange with Professor Haruno, and he'll have to shift his schedule
around. Lab research in the mornings, instead of afternoons, and classes in the
evenings instead of mornings. To get in the half an hour with Naruto everyday,
especially since Mizuki and his dreadful wife won't even be around or know.
This sounds so perfect in his mind, that he never thought the difficulties or
details through when he promised his brother he'd commit to this.
"Hey you two," calls out Mizuki, "help set the table, okay?"
That's when Naruto lets go of him and runs out to help out. At the burst of
enthusiasm, the wife pets at the blond tussled hair encouragingly as his kid
brother carries a stack of plates. Following Naruto's lead, Sasuke sets the
glasses, and Mizuki places the steaming main dishes upon the center of the
dining table. Soon they all take their places and he and Naruto sit side by
side, across from the muted, happy grey couple.
"This is our first Christmas together with you Naruto," Mizuki announces.
His wife adds, "With more to come, I'd say."
Her muddy smile and grimy intonation splatters the air, raining dirt upon his
plate.
At that, Sasuke loses his appetite, and turns with pain. The foul smell hurts.
And he instead watches Naruto dig into his plate; how the small mouth fits in
as much food as possible. And no sooner does he dissociate from the hideous
slimes from across the tracks. Focusing only upon the silhouette of light
beside him, how each sound of satiation, each speckle of food Naruto intakes,
that's a piece of food inside him too.
"So," starts the wife, her eyes training onto Sasuke, discerning. "I finally
get to meet you."
Even though his heartbeat races, Sasuke only tilts his head in acknowledgment.
"Do you work?" she asks, or rather, interrogates.
"Yes."
Naruto's eyes widen in excitement, and with mouth full of stir fried
vegetables, cries and even pounds the table, "Listen everybody! Sas'kay's on a
mission. Not only that but he's the bestest—ever—ah—I," coughs manically as
food lodges in his throat. Before Sasuke could panic or intervene, Naruto
clears his throat, and rambles on, "And he's going to take me away when he's
done. So, yeah! Right Sasuke?"
"Chew and swallow…idiot," he murmurs, flushing. He feels the intense scrutiny
of Mizuki's wife now, as he pats his brother's back.
The lady, scowls and her rouged cheeks stiffen into a mean contortion. "Where
do you work?"
"At a laboratory in my University," he drawls, without meeting her hawk eyes,
"I work for my sensei, on biochemical research."
Mizuki smirks. "Very smart kid you are, huh Sasuke?"
"Of course Sas'kay's smart!" yells Naruto, pounding the table again, "The
smartest ever!"
"How smart," the wife sarcastically responds. "Do you even get paid? It all
sounds like basic student work to me."
"I do."
"Poorly, I am guessing."
"Not as poorly as you think," quips Sasuke, feeling the corners of his mouth
quirk up.
"You live with a roommate, is that correct?"
"Yes."
She sighs, as if in relief. "Well, then how are you filling up Naruto's little
head with these ideas of living together? Sounds so completely foolish, it's
almost funny!" Seeing both Naruto and Sasuke stiffen, she presses on, her voice
dropping into a coy octave, "Really you're just both kids. And with that said,
both in need of real parents."
Such words evaporate in the fleeting moment; how very true they are. And yet,
they carve an everlasting hole in his psyche to which in hindsight, he could
never shake off, not even in the next five or ten years. In fact she sounds
similar to the Director, accusing him of selfish immature ideals. Of kidnapping
Naruto into a whirlwind of wrong, into something dysfunctional.
And just like with the Director, he fights back.
"In six months," begins Sasuke, feeling his own muscles twitch in provocation.
"I'll be an adult just like you."
Despite Mizuki signaling her to stop the cross-examination, the wife continues
sharply, "Don't tell me you…excuse me. Do you really believe—truly believe
they'll let you adopt another human being without—without an actual real
career, without a home?" she hisses, to which Sasuke leans back in shock.
"That's why I already have a place in mind, a place in the city. And my career
is in academics. In fact, my professor has already recommended me to a graduate
program."
"What a smart, smart kid," repeats Mizuki, enjoying how much affect it has on
his wife. "Right, dear?"
Jealousy simmers in her eyes. Oh she's sore as hell, you could see the flaring
of her old nostrils.
"Your tone, Uchiha, is very disrespectful. Which furthers just how I feel you
don't understand how the world works."
"And you…" Now he's finally searching her cold gaze. "You understand?"
"Of course, how dare you. And anyone with eyes can see you're incapable."
Shwiiip!
Bolting up from his seat, Naruto throws his wet, dirty chopsticks at her face.
"Shut up! Old, old, smelly witch!"
Sasuke freezes. Gooseflesh run all over him, especially with how the soddy
onions trickles over her squaring jaw. The onions, the sauced up peppers,
drabbling down her face. Naruto threw his grimy chopsticks, and they had struck
her full force. In a word, she's furious. The pores of her skin even opening
with that wretched ooze he's smelled from earlier, letting loose her vile
innards and they seep like jungle fertilizer.
This woman's possessed, like a demon, he can see it.
Also sees his Naruto's fur raised like a provoked kitten, with small fists
curled into balls of justice.
After a deathly moment of silence, Mizuki roars with laughter; apparently
enjoying his wife's misery, as she's now sprinkled with greasy food.
"Mizuki. How dare you encourage such hateful behavior!" she scolds, angry at
her husband's amusement.
Mizuki smirks balefully, remains silent, as he prefers to watch his wife wither
in fury.
In fact, the wife whips to Naruto, forgetting Sasuke completely. "Why darling?"
she says, her frown deep and genuine, "Why would you be so hateful?"
"Don't like how you talk to my brother."
"Don't let Sasuke fool you for one second—"
"Oi, oi! Sas'kay's taking me back! And I don't care what you say," yells
Naruto, threatening to throw another snowball of food at her.
"Clean it up!" she yells back, "Clean this mess up right now, Naruto!"
"You're a witch, so clean it up yourself."
"I said now!" she shrieks, shooting to her feet like a volcanic eruption.
Naruto only shouts over her.
"Don't care! And guess what? I put snot in your food, witch!"
She gasps before turning expectantly to Mizuki, as if he's to take care of the
situation. However, Mizuki shrugs, and fights hard not to laugh. So she turns
to Sasuke, narrowing her eyes at the very sight of him. Her eyes, they send
missiles. Barraging one after the other, full of blame. Blaming him for the
barbaric behavior, blaming him for the horrid table manners, her eyes burn with
hatred towards him for spoiling Naruto.
Shame drowns him in that instant, and Sasuke flushes. Quickly, he reaches for
Naruto's dainty wrists, squeezing.
"Enough," he says lowly.
Panting, Naruto lets his brother manhandle him back into sitting. Obediently
dropping into the chair like a puppy. And it was this control, or the easy
manner in which Naruto listens to him, that sends the wife into a storm. She
cuts across the room, disappearing into the kitchen. Minutes later, furious
stomps up the stairs are heard.
Then a door slam.
She never returns to the table. Sasuke, Naruto, and Mizuki stay put in silence.
Mizuki's malicious smile wanes, and finally he speaks, "You shouldn't tease my
wife that way."
"Yup, and you too," nods Naruto, glaring at Mizuki. "Too bad, I did it to you
too."
"What?"
"I said," repeats Naruto, with a shit-eating grin, "I put snot in your food."
In shame, Sasuke buries his face into his palms. This is not happening. Not
happening. Not his Naruto. His Naruto wouldn't…
"Did you like the taste?" asks Naruto, smirking, even crossing his arms.
"You little…"
Naruto laughs. "Merry Christmas."
That's when Mizuki rages up like a bullet, holding back a very strong impulse
for violence. "Knew you were just a mon—"
Sasuke rubs his temples. "Naruto's not serious. He's joking."
Roaring with such laughter, Naruto nearly falls out of the chair. Points a
mocking finger up at Mizuki who towers with increasing fury.
"You actually fell for it!" in between chortles and snorts, Naruto fans himself
for air, "Fell for it!"
At once, Mizuki calms down. Relief seems to swamp his expression, and the brow
raised in hellish anger now relaxes.
By the time dessert's out, Mizuki starts his talk, "Listen Sasuke, it's getting
late. And we already planned having you spend the night here. Open the presents
tomorrow with Naruto, what do you say?"
Obviously he's not going to say no. But Naruto seems to be frightened at the
possibility, and grabs a hold of his sleeve. "Yeah Sas'kay, you're staying.
Right?"
"Dummy," he murmurs under his breath.
"What?" exclaims Naruto, shooting out of his seat. "No I'm not."
They've fought before, physically. Naruto doesn't stand a chance because of the
tremendous weight difference that naturally accompanies a ten year age gap.
However the boyish pride and determination powers Naruto like jet fuel, and
they'll get in squabbles. Sometimes, Sasuke lets his kid brother 'win' the
fight—because he always wished Itachi would let him win once in a while. Maybe
give back to Naruto what he never got from his own older brother, the feeling
of equality.
But there's a time and place for everything. He sends Naruto one look, and his
brother instantly backs down, and scowls.
Sasuke feels his appetite revive a little, like when he drinks his tea as to
hide the slight chuckle.
Eventually all dishes pack into the washer, the table unsets like it's never
been set, and that the dinner they all shared that night disappears like some
fleeting moment, very unmemorable in a sense. The night comes to a close and
there's not much else he pays attention to. Like the holiday music or the
holiday décor, which never strike anything in him because Christmas spirit's
dead for him, dead like rusted, piled up autumn leaves. He doesn't care about
it anymore, not like he cares about school and work because Christmas spirit,
whatever that is, is just some remote memory.
He and Naruto sit by the hearth together on the couch. This time with Mizuki in
the room, leaning in an armchair in the opposite corner, and his grey old
presence's like a snake in the room, ready for an vulnerable moment to strike.
To immerse in the moment with Naruto would mean death, would mean exposure.
Watched. Scrutinized. Judged, by those hideous wrinkled, crowed eyes, Sasuke
scarcely has it in him to loosen his walls, to lower the fortress and fondle
Naruto how he would without another in the room.
So they all watch TV, some Christmas Eve special. Plain as air. However
eventually, like a drifting feather to his lap, Naruto droops over him, and
naturally Sasuke feels his arms encircle his brother protectively.
"Kid's getting sleepy, look at that," remarks Mizuki, smile's snide. "Haven't
seen him this tired yet. You must really be that soothing for him."
Sasuke's about to open his mouth to respond, but Naruto's snoring cuts him off.
The small pink lips are parted, with puffs of air escaping in a rhythm. In that
moment, Naruto nuzzles even more into his abdomen, twitching from whatever
dream he's in. Sasuke feels like he's embracing a bundle of warmth, and he
doesn't want to let go or break their contact.
"You really think you can do it? My wife's right, you know." A slow, spreading
smirk, and Mizuki practically contorts the air with slicing biting winds.
"You're a kid too."
The hole's been long carved. Now he feels a gaping wound, numb to pain. "Do I
have to convince you?" he answers, booming, festering anger, boiling at his
lips. "Because the people in charge of that decision, will be convinced. And
I'll never have to see you again."
"He'd be happy here, you're just a selfish kid," mulls Mizuki, his haughty gaze
resting on the sleeping boy cradled in Sasuke's arms.
Selfish.
"But you knew that already, didn't you?" presses Mizuki. "And you brainwashed
Naruto, and you convinced him well alright."
"You don't understand," he grates out. Anything to put the fire out, anything
to put out the wretched tone and words.
That's when the grey, disagreeable, revolting—Sasuke swallows thickly—this
disgusting slime rises up.
"Maybe you'll see me again, Sasuke," an ugly hideous tune. "Maybe I can
convince Naruto to stay, because my wife's just in love with the kid. She needs
him."
"Not like me, never like me." Hears his own voice pitch lower into darkness,
cracking open like shell.
However Mizuki's smirk widens. "Well, I'll go ahead put him to bed. Unless you
want to. You guys can share the room together. One last time. Yeah?"
Heating in the face, freezing inside. Are his eyes really burning with gushing
heat? Sasuke clenches his fingers, to feel himself again, but he can't. Except
he sees the unhappy gleam flashing in Mizuki like lightning, startling jolts
threatening to strike.
He stands when he finds the strength, with Naruto still fast asleep in his
arms. Face to face with a cave monster, because this man wields his words and
power like a brute. Sasuke squares his jaw, biting his tongue. He's said too
much. Exposed too much. Walls like Itachi's would never crumble before the
likes of this scum.
And as he's led upstairs to Naruto's room, not once does Naruto ever wake up.
With several blankets thrown over them, they share the twin bed, and Sasuke's
still cold. Enough to send his teeth chattering little by little. Freezing
inside. And if Naruto'd wake up, reinvigorate him, assure him again, then this
pain of frost could melt, could disappear.
"Naruto," he says.
Almost instantly, he feels Naruto twitch in his sleep.
Their hair's splayed and mingling atop the shared pillow, and Sasuke leans even
closer. "Don't tell them we'll meet. Don't tell them that we'll see each other
every day." Strangers, that's what they are. "You understand me?"
A snore catches and hitches in Naruto's throat, and for a long moment there's
silence.
Then a sleepy mumble, "...'Suke..."
"You don't trust strangers, especially them."
Somehow his voice scratches and plunders into Naruto's dreams, because he
hears, "'...promise..."
When the beautiful symphony of snoring plays again, Sasuke relaxes.
 
                                     -o-o-
 
"You want to drop my class?" whips out Professor Haruno, now removing her
glasses. "Just last week we agreed you'd be on the quick track if you took my
intro to nuclear medicine course. This upcoming semester."
Sasuke coolly eyes her up, because he's already decided. "Professor," he
starts, but there's an iciness in her emerald eyes, "You're mistaken. I don't
prefer to drop the class. But you offer no other section, no other class
meeting times."
"Sasuke," she drawls, walking around her desk and cutting the space between
them. "There are other ways to make this work."
"What other ways?"
She's taller than him, because she's wearing her heels today.
"Ways."
Without blinking, Sasuke holds his ground. Even as she smirks, even as she
leans forward, planting a hand on her desk for support. Even as she's testing
the waters. As she's breaking the barriers of his personal space. Demonstrating
control, how she gets away with what she pleases to do. He's unflinching.
"You've been my student for a year now, you're my pupil—my project. I've put
time, effort, consideration in letting you research under me."
"I'm grateful for that." His tone is flat and dry.
Sakura recoils imperceptibly.
"You only see me as your professor and mentor. But inevitably, we've built a
friendship I like to think," she says lowly. "We're friends too."
"So you're taking this personally."
"Personally," she scoffs, "personally I find you naïve, Sasuke. I'm saying I
want you to succeed. I'm your friend and I want to personally see you succeed."
Now that stone wall he's set up, cracks. And he fidgets nervously, darting his
eyes away from hers. He's slowly crumbling underneath her, and she knows it,
she knows she's winning by that sly smile on her face. He can't maintain
rigidity, because Sakura looms over him with such heat—with such obvious
burning intention.
"Stay in my class. And if you can't show up to lecture, you're excused."
"I won't make it to any of those lectures," he gets out hoarsely, like gravel's
lodged in his throat.
Not expecting that, Sakura steels up.
"Is that so?"
He struggles to meet her in the eyes, and he can tell she enjoys seeing him
vulnerable. He can tell by her worried gaze, and the way her hand reaches up
and squeezes his shoulder.
"That's why…I'm dropping."
"Tell me why, Sasuke."
He considers her for a long time, or what felt eternal. But he fights down the
instinct to open up. So he doesn't admit anything.
"Other obligations."
At that, Sakura pulls away and retreats back to sitting on her desk. She
crosses her legs, perfectly unblemished because of the pantyhose. She doesn't
miss the look of relief manifesting in Sasuke's expression at their distance
again.
"Okay. That's alright. Stay registered for my class and I will overlook
attendance."
He can't believe what he's heard. He snaps up his gaze into hers, searching.
"Yes. I mean it. I'll give you the textbook, you work your genius potential,
study at home. Take all the midterms in my office, submit all the homework
online…this is an easy A for you."
"Is that even permissible?"
She scoffs, before pushing the stray rosy hairs behind her ear.
"Of course it's perfectly permissible. I can't make this kind of exception for
just anyone—you're simply beyond the average student. Especially under my wing,
I trust that you don't need me to lecture you on a subject."
"I…" He thought he'd never be lost for words around her, but the moment's come.
She's sitting on the edge of her desk, looking at him expectantly.
"Yes?" Sakura prompts, eyes slanting up in pleasure.
"I don't know how to thank you."
A glint of something foreign shines. She smiles.
"You'll worry about thanking me later. Just get back home safely, and prepare
for this next semester."
"I appreciate your help," he murmurs routinely.
However the twinkle in her eyes, her spark, her burning purpose, sends him
faltering. He turns around quickly before she can see it.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning at the lab," Professor Haruno calls after, "bye,
Uchiha-kun."
.
.
.
.
Tick. Tick.
He'll be late. Naruto's going to wait for him in the cold. But he can't abandon
the lab with unfinished work. Professor Haruno's asked for a certain quantity
of freshly distilled ethanol, and he foolishly thought the process would take
no longer than an hour. So here he is, tied to the ventilatory hood, watching
gas condense into a round bottom flask, dripping drop by drop.
Tock tock.
For a second longer, Sasuke stays still, notebook in his left, and a pen in his
right. Ready to record the final volume, ready to disassemble. He quickly dates
his lab report.
"Hey Uchiha-sempai, looks like you've got the batch! Professor's gonna' be
happy," cheers his lab-mate, who at that point looks over his shoulder.
Sasuke sharply turns to face the other, "I need a favor."
The lab mate cocks a brow, and smiles. "Sure man what is it?"
"I have somewhere to be. Do you mind cleaning up for me, this one time?"
"Seriously?" A pause, but then his peer breaks into jovial laughter. "No
problem, I'll cover you."
Sasuke nods before removing his goggles, and he briskly snaps the nitrile
gloves off. "Thanks."
Just as he finishes washing his hands, and tucks his notes into the drawers,
his lab-mate creeps up behind.
"Hey, you're meeting someone aren't you?"
"Yeah, why?" Sasuke's casual, as if he missed the teasing tone in the other.
"No, nothing. Just probably shouldn't tell Professor Haruno, she'd get jealous
if she found out..."
Rolling his eyes, Sasuke dismisses instantly, "Stupid talk."
"No way, man!" His lab mate grins. "You're her favorite, Sasuke. Everyone in
the lab knows it."
"Believe what you want." Sasuke hangs his white coat on the rack. "Don't forget
to check the purity. Needs a match test."
"Hah, okay. Got it. See you tomo..." The lab mate blinks back at the empty room
before him. "...sheesh that Sasuke can run."
Yes, he's doing the walk-run combo, walking madly with force putting gravity
itself to shame. Sasuke storms for the bus stop. Waiting by the sign, waiting
and waiting, eyes flickering to his watch. If the bus comes right now, he'll
only be five minutes late.
But the bus never comes, until twelve forsaken minutes go by. Now he'll be
fifteen minutes late, if the bus rides quickly. However, at the next stop, a
handicapped person on a walker tries to get on board, and much time funnels in
accommodating this difficult passenger. So now if the bus makes express stops,
he'll only be thirty minutes late. When it's his stop, Sasuke catapults out and
hopes the crosswalks will all be green-but each crosswalk he hits, are red. Now
he's forty fucking minutes late.
Then finally, he sees the corner where Naruto's waiting. And the sight of
Naruto is like an oasis in this desert of panic, sweeping relief of salvation.
His worst what ifs died at the reassurement his brother's standing untouched
and safe. Inhaling in deeply, Sasuke walks over in long strides. The small
figure, wrapped in a scarf, in a puffy coat, had his blond hair exposed to the
chilling air.
"Naruto," he calls out.
Naruto turns round, shock and happiness swirling into a smile. All baby teeth
show. "Knew you'd come!"
"Put on your hat. You have it don't you?"
"No I don't like hats. No hats for me."
Sasuke gets on a knee and man handles his brother, gets the stubborn boy to
turn round, so he can fumble with the backside of Naruto's coat. There's a hood
tucked underneath, as usual when Naruto dresses himself sloppily. And so he
pulls the hood from its inward hidden position out, letting it enclose Naruto's
small baby face, even the faux fur on the rims played cutely with the fierce
expression.
In fact at the sudden coverage, Naruto wails, "No! Get it off. Hate hats."
"You stupid usuratonkachi, how long did you wait for me? In the cold? Without
covering your head. Idiot!" Sasuke fights for control, tightening the shaking
boy in his hold.
"But it's not that cold!" Naruto wiggles before looking up innocently, as
strands of his furry hood fringes around shining orbs. "'M sorry. I'll wear
it."
"Let's go," he commands, grabbing the dainty hand.
Naruto bounces as he tries to keep up with the fast pace, especially as Sasuke
holds his hand the whole way. "What happened Sas'kay?"
"Nothing happened. Just traffic and work."
"Oh. I don't like either of those things. Boo!" When Naruto sees no reaction
from his brother, he scrunches his nose. "Hey S'uke, I found a penny face up."
They quickly cut across a crosswalk, and they're both quiet. Until Naruto
huffs, and tries again. Picks up the penny, letting it glisten under a gray
skylight. "I found some luck, ya see that Sasuke?"
He glances furtively, catching Naruto's sly expression and the dull glint of
the brazen penny. "You know I don't believe in superstition."
Grrrrraaaauughn!
The sudden whizzing of a car, and its horrendous honking, startles them both.
"Ah! No!" Naruto scrambles clumsily, falling face forward, "No, no! It fell!"
Quickly, he bends over to Naruto's side. "Moron! What are you doing?"
"No, no," comes the muffled cry, before Naruto unfolds from the cold pavement.
Squeezing his face embarrassingly, "Aw shucks, it fell…"
Sasuke yanks his brother close, and clasps their hands, as if gluing them
together. "What fell? And stay close to me, will you?"
"The good luck penny! Had it in my hands and then—and then the car just came
out of nowhere and the penny fell into that sewer."
They both blink before Sasuke sighs, very much annoyed. "Who said we need luck?
We don't need luck."
Naruto frowns, looking at the metal bars in which the penny had fallen in
between. Some deep hell underneath, a dark underworld of sewers. And it's like
Sasuke's words don't faze or get to through to him, lost in the bustling sounds
of the city. Even as cars whizz violently by, action all around, and yet the
whole time Naruto glares at the small openings to the underworld of sewers.
He can't get inside Naruto's child-like perception, but Sasuke swallows.
Nervously. For if he's not mistaken, Naruto's watching with curiosity. Probably
imagining what kind of adventure awaits underground, underneath in that
darkness. Like hell he'd even let Narutoconsider.
"It's terrible down there," he says thickly.
"How do you know?" snaps Naruto, eyes flaring in intrigue.
"There's alligators down there, spiders that'll kill you in a single bite,
slime that infects you inside and out," he schools into impassiveness, "And
I've lost friends there."
"Alligators? You mean real actual alligators?"
"So don't you think about it, Naruto."
Grimacing, Naruto looks away and squeezes their hands tightly. "Eh, eh, maybe I
won't then..."
Naruto trails off because he sneezes violently.
The sneezing and the sniffling get worse as Naruto rambles on about his day.
Sasuke tightens the grip and slows down the pace. Unable to finish any sentence
without sniffing, Naruto rubs his eyes in frustration. He's coming down with
something. So when they near Mizuki's home, Sasuke conducts them to a stop
several paces away. He dips a hand under and around Naruto's hood, and massages
the scarved neck. At the feel of the massage, Naruto screws his eyes shut
because getting coddled by his older brother, is too overwhelmingly
pleasurable..
"Only a few more months," he says, almost to himself, "I get to take you home."
Naruto nods, and squeezes his hand. "Don't like it with...with...them."
At the fear flickering in those blue eyes, Sasuke jolts into alert mode. "Tell
me."
"Don't like her."
"Who? Mizuki's wife?" To which Naruto nods slowly, "What does she do?"
Naruto purses his lips, then bows his head in deep thought. Like he's recalling
some image. And imperceptibly he shivers, even Sasuke feels it by their
connected palms. He feels Naruto quiver not from the cold but something far
more unpleasant.
"Naruto..."
"It's—it's nothing!"
Sasuke narrows his gaze, he can see the lie before he hears it. "Naruto I want
to know what's bothering you."
"F-forget it. I'm kidding! Just a joke, haha got you! See how funny I am?" The
laughs rumble forcefully, loudly, and sharp. "I'm seeing you 'morrow right,
right?"
"Yes like usual. I won't be late this time."
Now the fear's replaced with happiness, like a shift in gear. Naruto presses
into him, especially when they're a block away. This embrace, he almost can't
let go. Presses harder. Their jackets rub, but a barrier thicker than a wall,
couldn't reduce the transmission of feeling.
"What would you do," whispers Naruto, "if I ran away?"
Sasuke tightens his grip, screwing his eyes into a grimace.
"To you. If I ran away to you."
He's breathless. Doesn't have the punitive tone he ought to take. Ought to be.
"Don't. You hear me? I decide. Not you."
"Then say you love me," pleads Naruto, pulling Sasuke down to his level like a
tall branch, "say it and I'll keep waiting for you."
"I don't have to say it, you should already know," he answers almost
condescendingly.
"But you never say it back!"
He lets Naruto go. Before Naruto could plant a kiss, or before they entangle
into another embrace, he steps back as if he's touched a hot furnace. Their
connection tears and cracks apart. And he hears Naruto pant in disappointment,
hears even his own shallow breaths.
For a frozen moment, they search each other's gazes.
"I love you, S'uke."
Swears the snow flurries in the air shake and melt. Or was that the chill in
his heart? Heat and warmth resurging. Healing. He can reclaim the warmth
wholly, with just one kiss. They could reclaim a whole future, run away,
anything at all. And yet, he stands paralyzed. Watches the storms in one
trembling blue orb, and peace wavering in the other because Naruto's expression
tears into two right before him. Asking if he loves him, like asking if
he loves oxygen or water, or gravity, as if the word yes would answer. When in
fact his very existence, is answer alone, and that is all he could truly say.
"So you won't say it back? Why?"
"Anyone can say what they want, without even meaning it," he's a kid, "you want
to hear the words when they're not valuable at all. I can't even remember the
last time words have saved me."
Voice's hoarse, so he whips forward and wrenches a hold for better
communication.
"Tell me. Do you want to hear about someone loving you, or actually have
someone love you?"
Shivering and wincing, Naruto shakes his head.
"Which? Which is it, Naruto? I asked a question."
"Both."
Sasuke's lips curl in annoyance, until Naruto adds, "I want to say I love you
and mean it. Is that illegal, huh? No 'cos I'd be in jail now, right? See? I'm
here."
"Naruto…forget it," he murmurs.
In panic, blond brows furrow frighteningly at the dismissal.
"Just believe me! You don't have to say it back, as long as you believe me at
least then—"
"Enough," he cuts in. And he has to hold his brother from recoiling.
"Don't—don't make me say unnecessary things."
"S-Sasuke, I…I won't. Can we—can I—"
Flushing crimson, Naruto quits stammering and tips his head up to close the
distance. Hesitation and vulnerability pours out of the round, rubicund
expression, as Naruto inches closer and closer: the whole while Sasuke's heart
pounds, booming in his blood. At the last second, or the last inch rather, he
gently yanks them to a safe distance apart.
"Go already, you're going to get sick," he says, opting to look up at the
Mizuki household. Anywhere but the admiring, affectionate glaring up at him.
Naruto shivers with reticence. "But, but…" Upon seeing the restraint blooming
over Sasuke, he stops short. "Next time then."
Saying good bye at this point, is asinine—and he watches his kid brother
trotting through the gate. The small puffy figure climbs up the little hill,
and when Naruto mounts atop the porch, waving an arm, Sasuke waves back.
However, his arm freezes in mid air. Two glinting eyes shine from the kitchen
window, watching his every movement. Like glaring headlights flashing at him. A
gaze of pitch darkness, with twinkles of mysterious light. Three eyed. Four
eyed. Black, dark as...
For a moment, he saw a raven watching from within, soulless like Itachi's gaze.
Shivering, Sasuke rubs his eyes. No, not again. Not again. Seeing a nightmare,
an untruth because that's Mizuki? The wife? Almost immediately, the curious
stare vanishes from view. And his heart drops, because now they know.
Feels the bag in his hand fall slack to the ground, when he sees her embrace
Naruto.
If Naruto ran away with me...
Cringes when the door slams shut.
Would that be selfish too?
Rooted he is, watching them through the window. Until he can no longer see,
when he's stared for so long his peripheries whirl madly; and he rips away.
***** Dreaming, I was Dreaming *****
Chapter Summary
     ...because the sound thing to do, is a wretched, immoral thing. Like
     bugles and drums, his heart screams for a revolution. The fucking of
     the rest of the world, blares in his mind as he steals Naruto today
     for himself. To his apartment.
Chapter Notes
     Beta: GoodMorningFlower
 
                                       .
                                       .
                                       .
 
Her salmon pink dress, flowing; and her heels clack with promise.
Tack. Tack.
Pulse races, every step they take. Every other breath whooshes painfully in his
throat.
He follows Sakura into and out of an elevator, while the other students watch
ignorantly, shuffling with curiosity and practically leaning in anticipation.
After all, he is taking the exam in her office and once inside her grand lair,
she gestures at a small cubicle. Sterile, empty, white, and blockaded from all
sides except for one, it's like a miniature solitary confinement just for him.
She tells him to sit with a twinkling expression dancing on her face. There's
no mistaking the imperceptible glint in her eyes, the way the brightness
reflects from her spectacles, demanding acknowledgment.
Annoyed, he glances away refusing her.
"Basic rules Uchiha-kun," Sakura explains almost vengefully, as he quietly sits
down. "No use of cell-phones, no bathroom breaks, no calculators. There's a
formula sheet attached onto the exam, use it."
As soon as she's finished, she winks. "I'll be right here if you have any
questions. Good luck." Then she sits at her desk several paces away, going over
files.
Sasuke leans back and breathes. He stares at the multiple choice, losing focus
mid-way, no longer seeing the black print because he's not ready, not like
usual. He's worked on the adoption papers like they've become his bible-his
religious holy grail. And he can't veer his thoughts from it, like a chip
blaring in his brain; in a word, wholly obsessed.
—flushed, revealed, and completely open, as inch by inch they share the same
breath.
Back to the first question, Sasuke mulls over each choice. A, b—again, his
vision blares out into the thin air. No coffee, not much sleep. He's got to
talk with professor Haruno since she's got forms he'll need to provide. His
damned employment with her, bordering enslavement, and all the financial
aspects to prove he can support another person. Soon.
Needing him, Naruto needs him like he's everything for him, wanting him,
admiring… "Can we—can I…" Sasuke squeezes his eyes shut. Why is he seeing this
again? "Please?"
Should stop this. They're too close. Too close.
Against the wall. On the bed. Half-asleep in his chair. Weakening without the
touch like a wilting plant, decomposing without the caress. Too close. He's
holding the heat in his lap, petting, fondling, and worshipping every ounce of
the only one he loves. His only one—
"One hour left," informs Haruno.
Sasuke grips his pen. Need to focus. The questions glare with strict impunity,
and numbers come to him like a radio signal. So he circles answers down to the
bottom, and flips onto the next page. Three more pages to go. But just when he
gets hot in one subject, someone's got to ruin it. Even Naruto, especially
Naruto.
…no, never truly stops. Naruto kisses him, pressing them together in
confidence. And he lets.
Burning in embarrassment, he massages a clammy hand over his face. He glances
at Sakura, who catches his gaze. She smiles and lights with curiosity like a
shimmering twinkle, because whatever sappy expression he's wearing, she assumes
it's for her. It kills him. She has no idea. Then she contentedly turns back to
her screen. He turns away too.
…he can't shut the door. Like a brimming room of steam, seeping right under the
cracks, that's what sweeps him like a trance—condensing into every part, every
corner. Gently, he hooks Naruto closer, anchoring the contact. Takes another
step further because he's at his limit…needs Naruto in every way, and he waits
and waits, but now, that energizing heat's maddening, and promising.
Sakura coughs.
Startled, Sasuke looks over to her and sees her head's still bent into her
work. She types into a laptop, occasionally clearing her throat and shuffling.
It was funny how she watches him from her periphery, like she was some sore kid
holding a grudge.
…cups both burning cheeks into his hands, letting the chills defrost and
restraint's thinning, melting. Wait, they always wait. The grip at his shirt's
weak yet, strong-willed as Naruto gasps clinging tighter, and there's no doubt
that his brother's a mirror. A portal to somewhere fantastical. Especially as
Sasuke lowers more and more, finding the perfect curve of a pulsing, warm neck.
Hears the giggling, the laughter. His name's exploding the air like magic
firecrackers, and that sound alone satiates.
Mizuki's right. The Director. The damned wife. He's selfish. So selfish. Wants
to hear the crying, the laughter, and the whimpers for him. Only for him. 
"Can I do it to you?" comes the question. "Are you ticklish, Sasuke?"
Naruto seizes the moment, tip-toeing a little. Bares small canines like a kid
vampire ready to sink his teeth in, and for a frozen instant, all the steam
whooshes like a violent wind. He's not sure what'll happen if he lets….lets
Naruto pour more of that energy into him.
"Let's see," mumbles Naruto, planting a sopping wet mouth right under the
square of his jaw.
Suddenly, his cell vibrates and he must have jumped a mile high. Buzzes like a
trapped beetle in his pant pocket.
Sasuke glances furtively to check if Sakura's noticed. However her nose is
buried into a computer monitor, and quickly, Sasuke sneaks a hand to unsheathe
his phone, just to see who's calling.
His breath hitches. Naruto.
Shoving his phone back into obscurity, Sasuke squares his jaw. He could ask
Sakura for a break, to take an important call, he could ask her that! But she's
so sore with him and she'd dig ambitiously for the whys and whats, and he's
better off avoiding her scrutiny. You know there's some touchy subjects, like
his little brother, meant to be safe and protected from evil eyes—not that
Sakura's evil, but maybe her intentions are. Who knows? You never know. He
doesn't trust.
So Naruto's just going to have to wait a damned hour. Despite his resolve
though, Naruto keeps calling him. Every vibration rattles his nerves, shaking
his concentration like winds to leaves. He rereads the same question over and
over again because his eyes roll every time Naruto calls. Frustrated, he clicks
his phone shut, extinguishing their connection for this moment.
In twenty minutes, he finishes the exam, gets up, and hands it to Sakura.
She winks at him, for the third time today. "So what does my star pupil think
of the test? Everyone complained that I was terribly hard! But I didn't think
so. Did you feel that way?" she asks coyly.
In fact, she's a muffled sound to the blaring of his thoughts. Sasuke looks at
her without truly looking. Only her silhouette. Her frame. She's blurring
because his heart's pounding faintly, and he can't help space out.
"Guess that's your way of keeping neutral, hm? Anyway, well done Uchiha-kun,
this does look good," she comments, turning his exam over. "Well done indeed.
Expected nothing less of you."
Finally the lens in his eyes focus on her, and yet…he says nothing. He dips his
hands into both pockets.
"Didn't I tell you this would all work out? It's just wonderful you didn't
drop," she rambles on.
That's when her voice melts, dropping to a low octave. Glossed lips slowly
curve into a smirk and his eyes follow the disagreeable curvature of her mouth.
She rests her chin upon a hand, brows quirking imperceptibly. Purpose burns at
her skin then up to her eyes when she blinks. He sees all this, and pretends to
be oblivious.
"Professor," begins Sasuke, pausing because her eyes glisten with loud hope.
"Yes?"
He already sees her expression shatter with disappointment. As always when he's
about to change the subject. "I need some documents. For my accountant."
"Ah," she mumbles, shuffling her other arm against the desk. The bracelets
around her wrist jingle and clamor slightly at her movement. "So that's it."
"Do you think you'd have them sometime this week?"
That's when Sakura leans back on her leather chair, twiddling her fingers
pensively. "I can have them anytime you want Sasuke. Anything for you."
"Thanks. I appreciate..." he trails off, at the way her lips curl, "...it." Her
once hopeful smile, turns to a sneer.
In fact, she unequips her glasses. "Listen Sasuke. The truth is, I won't be in
the office tomorrow nor for the rest of the week due to a conference meeting
upstate." She sees him clench his fists, and softens her voice as to avoid
shattering fragile glass, "However, if you truly want them as soon as possible,
you may care to stop by my place to pick up the papers. They're very easy to
draw up."
His desperation for the papers must have slipped accidently, and she picked up
on it like a hound. She's got some vague understanding of the urgency, that
he's tethered to a deadline.
"When," he churns out, willing himself as still as possible.
"Tonight. After our lab work, of course."
Her voice of confidence sends tremors of jealousy down his own throat. He has
to fake his own confidence, while she on the other hand, wears it like a
bejeweled shield.
He makes a sound of affirmation. But as he's about turn away to hide his
boiling look of humiliation, her voice reaches over like a hand.
"But could you do me a favor, Sasuke?"
"What?"
There's a long pause. Her expressed deliberation as she bites the bottom of her
lip, she dismisses, "Ah, you know what it is? I think it's better I wait.
Perhaps next time."
You don't need to tell things twice with him, unlike some other people. He
rockets for the door. Alas, her remark chases after him, "I'll see you tonight.
Feel free to text before then."
Text. His phone. Naruto, incessantly calling him. Now all of it hits him, and
he rushes out into the hall. He waits an eternity as his phone gets to home
screen. Three missed calls, and a voicemail.
"Sasuke," the voicemail plays in his ear, and he notices Naruto's voice shaky,
"'m not going to school. 'M not going back. Running away, like I said I would.
Can you pick me up?"
The world fades into static.
Freezing, the temperature plummets into complete icy hell, yet he's sweating
like he's overrun by a fever. Sweats through his shirt in a couple seconds
flat, and everything's roaring like white noise, thrumming. He calls back again
and again. No answer each time, driving him mad enough into barreling down the
corridors.
Then by the time he's outside, he paces around campus like a lost person, like
he's never been here before. Circles around the same tree, like his body
dissolves into a broken game of tug-of-war going this way, going that way, or
wait and stay for a call back. People stare, whisper. But for him panic's a
broken dam, and he squeezes his temples as if not to lose his head right now.
Because he's losing everything else.
Screws shut his eyes and swallows the strangled sounds of pain: the world's
grey, then black, thick, and blank as he succumbs to blind helplessness. This
doesn't make sense. No one's coming to help, or make sense of this. Not even
then, certainly not now. He was begging Itachi, he was so stupid. So weak. He
begged the neighbors not to turn them in, because Itachi was coming back.
Itachi's a leader, executive, and loyal he'd never leave, but find the answer—
Then like a bulldozer, an idea rolls through the darkness, and Sasuke freezes
up. He can do this. He'll just call the phone company, request GPS tracking on
his kid brother's phone, and he'll find the coordinates.
Right as he's dialing in the number, his phone goes off vibrating again.
Sasuke clicks it open and demands, "Naruto, where the hell are you?"
He can't even recognize his own voice. Throat's burning, while his ears ring
dully. He's so very numb like he's swam from a shipwreck, scarcely making it to
shore. And the one sole tree on campus, becomes the steady pillar of support in
his hand: hard bark splintering his palms.
"Hello? Is this Sasuke Uchiha?" asks a smooth baritone through the speakers.
You could have believed it was the most charming radio voice you've heard, and
it could have been God answering for all that matters. Still Sasuke'd bristle
with agonizing distrust, and fear.
Sasuke crushes the phone in his hand, just as his restraints snap. "Yes. Who is
this?"
"Found this kid lost in town, and I offered to take him to lunch with me.
Figured he ran away from home," says the man on the other end. "I've got to get
back to work soon."
"Where? Where are you?"
"West 14th, across from the Sprinkles bakery where I found your kid."
Winded. Sasuke breathes in too quickly. Resurgence—lightning—down to every
tendon and ligament. Like gun fire exploding in his muscles, he darts forward.
Naruto's a couple streets away. He runs faster. Hair's getting in his face, and
his mouth dries painfully, as Sasuke's arms swing forward building momentum.
Gasps erupt like cackling flames from the crowd he cuts through. He sprints in
front of moving cars because he's determined to get across, scarcely dodging
the fate of road kill.
Skrriiiiiiiiiiid! Cars swerve in jerk reactions, honking and grinding horribly
against the road, all to avoid colliding into him.
Despite the angry shouts of drivers, and the wailing sirens chasing after him,
Sasuke rounds the corner. His clammy hands dip for the phone, and he presses
the speaker shakily to his ears. He calls, again and again. Every ring
unanswered, his heart pounds, thrumming a dull sound in his ears.
"Hey," answers the voice on the other end.
Sasuke breathes into the microphone, "I'm in front, and I don't see you."
"Well I'm inside the bar across the street, that's why." The voice's nice, not
mean at all. It could have been easily a wise-guy sound, but it wasn't.
"Bar," he echoes back. Someone would take his kid brother into some bar?
"Yeah, directly across. You'll find me sitting in the front."
He sees this so called bar. Relief swamps him when he reads 'Ramen' written on
the store front. In a flash he's on the other side of the crosswalk, like he's
teleported, this time the cars don't run him over. Although, stepping through
those glass doors, he doesn't know what to expect. Who's got his brother, what
they've said, how they appear. But at once, he sees them—as Sasuke enters the
darkly lit restaurant.
Instantly, as if he could sense Naruto blindly, he hones in. Soaking up the
sight of Naruto's profile underneath the warm, decorative lantern light. Like
he's watching a projection of divine dispensation, the liveliness and every
breath Naruto takes, that's a breath inside him too, healing him. Sees the
small form perched on a high rise stool, sitting alongside with that stranger.
Sitting too close. Too closely.
At that, he rockets in between. Before his brother could even notice, Sasuke
sits on a stool right next to him, wobbling at the last second since
adrenaline's still waning. But not before wrapping an arm around Naruto as if
this single touch is enough to assess. As if intimate knowledge passes between
their bodies, without sign or word. Yet as he protectively presses them
together, Naruto says nothing, which is so unusual, which is so very contrary
to the usual talkative nature. And when he asks what happened, Naruto hugs his
side, nuzzles, and silently shakes his head.
It's that moment, the stranger puts out his hand, "Name's Kakashi, nice to meet
you."
A very westernized gesture. Sasuke shakes the hand, which is larger than his
own. "Thank you for watching him," he says lowly, fixing a discerning stare.
Him. Like a bolt of lightning, Sasuke stiffens, ripping his hand away. This
man saved his life. He feels it in the touch. All familiar facial features now
revive in his memory by this man's grip—the same grip which saved him from
perdition. On that day on the crosswalks, only one person reached out and
pulled him away from the line of traffic. Kakashi. Kakashi, he won't ever
forget this name.
He…doesn't remember me. Two years ago, almost two years since then.
"I actually had a good time with this one. Though he says you're his father,
you look too young."
Sasuke glares at the skinny arms hugging his side to death. Before leveling a
cool stare, "Because I'm his brother."
"Ah, that explains it," muses Kakashi, packing his bag over the shoulder.
"Anyway I have an appointment with a patient, and I'll need to get back to my
office."
As the man's leaving, Sasuke gets up and calls out, "Thank you again," he says,
and means it. Really. "I appreciate your help."
Kakashi turns, smiling, and waves his hand casually. "Later, Sasuke."
The informality startles him, but he bets Naruto's opened his big mouth and
poured their back story like an audio book. As he turns back to Naruto, he
finds his brother giving him googly eyes. Big sparkling innocent orbs. But
Sasuke's immune, a steel wall. For all the curiosity and worry which moments
ago possessed him, suddenly drops to anger.
"Are you done?" Sasuke bites out, eyeing the rather empty bowl.
"Yes."
"Then let's go," he demands, holding out his hand, to which Naruto happily
gives.
As soon as they dart out, Sasuke has to swallow the bubbling anger. Itachi was
always patient, always calm: yet, he never pulled idiotic, dangerous stunts to
trigger a reaction from Itachi, never gave his older brother a real reason to
worry. While Naruto on the other hand, goes into the city without supervision
and even skips school like a delinquent child.
Disobeying me, Sasuke seethes, because of them. All of them. His vision's
swimming in rose tinted lens, and all the parasitic worry eating at his colon
morphs into a hatred like a revolting nest of larvae wiggling for release. For
Mizuki, for his wife, the Director. Himself, the most. And as he decomposes,
his walls crack open.
"Why?" With all this possessive hatred he barely compresses out one word. And
it smokes the cold air.
For a frozen instant, Naruto blinks, before shaking his head. "I wanna be with
you." Brows quiver in contemplation. "That's it. Wanna be with you."
"But after school we were going to see each other. I was going to pick you up."
"So? Now I'm picking you up," comes the retort.
He clenches the hand painfully. "You're really unbelievable. An unbelievable
idiot."
"But see? I can do anything, I told you. Now we can do anything we want!"
Something snaps. And he nearly flings his kid brother to a wall. Instead he
violently brings them to a halt. "What did you do? What did they do? Naruto, I
need to know why you ran away, right now!"
People flit by, looking at them curiously.
Naruto smiles nervously. Sheepishly. Even rubs his neck. "Just gave 'em what
they deserved, S'uke. They're strangers, like you said. And," upon the
narrowing slits and furious gaze aimed his way, Naruto stammers off with
desperate justifications, "they always say bad things about you! I can't let
them do that."
"And to you?" hisses Sasuke, wrenching tighter. "They don't hurt you?"
"I, I…what? No. Just don't make me go back there," Naruto stammers, clawing at
his whole arm instead of just his hand. "Please. I miss you."
He hears the fear in the high-pitched voice, almost drowns in it. And at the
last moment, Sasuke veers them away from the metro because the sound thing to
do, is a wretched, immoral thing. Like bugles and drums, his heart screams for
a revolution. The fucking of the rest of the world, blares in his mind as he
steals Naruto today for himself. To his apartment.
His building's three streets away, adjacent to his University. As he checks
into the lobby, the doorman greets them, eyeing Naruto with delight. "Oh is
that your baby brother? He's adorable!" cheers the young man, waving.
Admiring the uniformed man, Naruto waves back but furrows his brow. "I'm not
cute," he huffs, but when Sasuke tugs at him, he goes back to waving. "Bye,
bye!"
When the elevators close in on them, Sasuke snaps his gaze up at the camera in
the upper corner. Reflecting and watching like a black eyeball. Someone's
watching, somewhere. He steels up as waves of nausea hit him. Instinctively, he
clamps Naruto's hand for support.
"One day," announces Naruto, stretching his free hand as high up as possible,
"I'll reach that button."
The penthouse floor, number twenty four. However, Naruto's fingers scarcely
graze over the middle set of buttons, only reaching as far the number ten. For
a split second, he imagines. Hallucinates vividly like a broken scene of film,
watching the dainty arm lengthen, becoming stronger like a fostered flower.
Naruto could reach terrifying heights—would grow stronger. Stronger than him
and then leave like the wind…like Itachi.
"No," breathes Sasuke.
"No?"
What is he saying? "I—I…I mean…"
"Tch! I'm gonna be taller than you Sasuke, just wait!" promises Naruto, shaking
his fist. "And 'm gonna reach that twenty fourth button, and then that black
thing up there!"
They both scoff in unison.
Tethered together, Sasuke leads them out and into a carpeted hallway. Almost
shivers as he passes the 'Floor Eleven' sign because every night upon passing
it, he dreamt of taking Naruto home. Now the experience is surreal, practically
like he's viewing the whole world upside down, and his own heart's hanging out
of place. And he's turning his keys, taking Naruto inside...he's…dreaming.
"Wow!" Naruto jumps ahead of him, running around manically. "You live here?"
The boisterous noise bounces harshly in his empty apartment. However the happy
sound loses momentum through the quick echoes. He's confused. What is he doing?
Did he really bring Naruto here to this sham of a place? Quickly, he grapples
any solid edge he could, before he sinks to the hollow of his gut. Naruto…hates
it. Barely furnished, and modern, this place's the complete opposite to their
once beautiful, countryside family home.
Sasuke flings the keys aside, and looks away. Worked as hard as livestock to
get this shabby place on his name, and he brings the most beautiful person
alive to a garbage dump. He's laughing, because Naruto thinks so highly of him,
looks up to him, and it's so funny, so very funny he's failed so hard…
"This is what I could afford," he drawls, as if each word's rotting in his
mouth, "and living in the city is ten times more expensive than—"
"Can I stay?"
The question surprises him because it's laced with adoration, like drizzled
sugar powder he could taste the sweet affection. And he opens his mouth to
say of course idiot, but stops short. Naruto's not supposed to be here yet
because by law, he's kidnapped his own brother. Bitter burnt crisps replace the
sweetness in his mouth. He says nothing to Naruto, rubs his temples, and points
to a chair by the window: rickety, weak chairs because he's still to buy a
couch, and they sit vis-à-vis.
Naruto sits and folds his small hands over his lap, lengthening his neck.
Mocking goody two shoes. "Yes Sas'kay?"
The widening shimmering portals of blue are almost impossible to fight. Almost.
In fact, his breathing slows as he resists the warmth.
He shifts around against the innocence radiating like fumes, and the long
inhale he takes smears his lungs like mint, burning and tingling.
"Why?" he grinds out again, he needs the truth, he needs his hatred to hone in,
"Forty days left, Naruto. Why run away now?"
Giving a shit-eating grin, Naruto kicks his feet up. "Don't like school."
"You're lying to me," his fists ball at his sides, "I want the truth."
"I...I'm not lying!"
"So you ran away for nothing, is that it? I'm supposed to believe that?"
Naruto's brow twitches and he's clutching his side of the table. "I just didn't
wanna go today, okay? I wanna be with you."
That's when all imprisoned anger erupts like lava. Fire. And not even Sasuke's
used to it, because his own voice quivers. "Don't you know how stupid you are?"
The table's flying to the side, clamoring to the ground. "You could have been
taken. Kidnapped. Ran over by a crazy driver. And then what would I have done?
What would I do?"
Naruto puts his hands out. "But 'm here. See? Nothing happened!"
"How. How did you even pay for the metro?"
"I..." Naruto bristles as if the words he's about to say will mean death, "I
saved my lunch money, alright? And I asked the bus driver how to get here too.
Told him about the Sprinkles bakery, 'member? Gave him a nickel for some
information, and he told me which bus to take and where."
Sasuke lets out a breath he's been holding, and it whooshes out like he's been
punched. Instead he grits out, "I want to know what's going in that head of
yours," to which Naruto looks away frightened, "That you don't ask me first.
Why you didn't tell me this grand idiot plan of yours?"
"Because...because you'd say no."
"You ask me anyway!"
That's when, hopping out of his chair, Naruto launches onto his lap. The small
body sprawls over him, fists onto his pants, and pleads like a screeching
kitten, "Why are you so unfair, huh? Because you don't miss me, is that it? You
don't miss me anymore!"
Is that what this is about? "Naruto—"
"I wanted to pick you up, just like you do for me," growls Naruto, as if the
confession rips from the heart, "So you won't forget about me. But you don't
ever talk to me like you used to! Like about the kinda house we'll be in. Like
when we imagine stuff together, you know, you stopped! And you don't dream
about it anymore...not with me."
Instinctively, his hand pets as if the need to assure is hardwired, he can't
help or even stop his absent-minded stroking. "Why talk about it?" he deadpans,
"Look, I've already bought the house. Everything we dreamed about is coming
true."
"Is it really?"
He clenches his teeth in pain. Because he's not there to protect, not there to
shield, and everyone's an animal. But Naruto…is the only other human being he
sees.
Pulls them into an embrace, and at once, breathes in the smell of shampooed
hair. And the scent of Naruto's candied breath's like a wind from a foreign
beautiful place, he can't get enough, absorbing the breeze was like standing
atop a hill. Overlooking everything, even into the far gloomy, cloudy distance,
he could breathe in Naruto's scent and feel on top of the whole grassy plains,
purifying him.
And slowly the deep well of hatred inside him topples upside down, pouring
itself empty, draining away. Wetness burns his eyes. Finding release through
the tear ducts he's long taped shut. He holds tighter, and buries deeper into
the fair mess of hair. And how perfect of a maneuver it was to embrace tightly,
he's so relieved his face is hidden.
"Tell me what happened," he demands.
"I just…keep making her cry. She's even worse than the crybaby Konohamaru in
our class," admits Naruto, while hugging him tightly round the neck, "then she
takes away TV. Says if I do chores, I can get it back but she never gives it
back. She's a liar!"
His heart pounds so loudly, and Sasuke congratulates himself for the steadiness
in his voice. "So you're saying you want to go to another foster home?"
Like the words were magical, Naruto nods. "Yeah! I want TV back, is that so
bad? I already missed four episodes of The Gutsy Ninja."
"But we don't know where you'll end up, Naruto," Sasuke mutters, catching the
frozen panic in his brother's eyes, "Worse or better, do you want to risk it?
Over television? Especially when we finally have this arrangement."
Naruto has second thoughts, eyes screwing shut in regret. "No, nevermind!"
Until finally they flutter open again. "When you put it that way…you're right
I am a dummy."
They sit silently, still locked into each other. The kawing of the crows from
outside, over the noise of the city sweeps their quietude.
Until finally having mulled over, Sasuke asks, "Do they think you're in school
right now?"
"Yeah. But if I come back, I'm gonna be in huge trouble." Hesitation, as Naruto
mentally debates till at last he confesses, "I covered all the toilet seats
with plastic wrap. I put their mail where they won't find it. Ever. And a
banana in her car hole," feels Sasuke stiffen, and continues anyway, "I poured
all the milk out. And I told everyone at school to call her cell number. Said
her name's jelly donut, and to leave a voicemail."
"Naruto," growls Sasuke, wrenching his kid brother to an arm's length apart.
Mocking the ferocity, Naruto says, "Sasuke."
"Don't do that."
"Don't do that," comes the mimicking tone and expression.
"Naruto, this is serious. Don't even start that game with me."
Naruto copies the very angle of his brows. "Naruto, this is serious. Don't even
start that game with—"
"You put yourself into trouble like this, and expect me to shrug it off?"
"…expect me to shrug it off?" Naruto huffs out, crossing his arms just the way
Sasuke does.
"You moron," grates Sasuke, offering bait.
But instead, the small pouting lips curl into a sneer. "You moron."
"Okay," he dismisses, pushing his kid brother off his lap. "Get out."
"Okay, get out!"
"You're annoying me."
"Annoying me."
Sasuke turns away, as his mouth flattens into a line. But Naruto follows,
carefully waits for the next sentence or phrase to copy. They both trail into
the kitchen, like a mother duck with persistent kids imprinting every movement.
"I think," begins Sasuke, who hears his echo as the high-pitched voice mimics
his words, "I'm stupid."
Stopping so suddenly, nearly tripping, Naruto stammers. "I'm…stupid."
"And I smell," adds Sasuke, pouring juice into a glass.
"And I—I smell," grates out Naruto, wrinkling his nose, as if silently damning
Sasuke for the dirty counter.
"And I'll never win against Sasuke," murmurs he, before sipping on his drink.
That's when Naruto jumps up and jabs two fingers forward. "And I'll never—okay,
no I won't admit to that!"
Silently, Sasuke pours juice into a colorful translucent cup. "Here," he hands
it to his kid brother, who's emblazoned with defiance. "Drink."
After a long moment of consideration, Naruto accepts truce and sips cautiously.
Although upon a first taste, he ends up gulping down the whole delicious
liquid, and then wipes his mouth with a flick of pleasure. He hands Sasuke the
empty glass. "That's my favorite flavor. Orange."
"I know," says Sasuke, voice distant.
Out of curiosity, Naruto wiggles past him, excitedly, swinging open the
refrigerator. And lo and behold…glaring back are empty, white sterile racks. So
barren that it jolts Naruto to let go instantly. In horror, Naruto stares until
the door clicks shut on its own, putting out the horrendous sight of emptiness.
Looking up with widened eyes, Naruto asks, "How come…there's so little inside?"
"I'm not hungry like you," he murmurs.
"Wait. How? Everyone's hungry." To which Sasuke only looks at him with boredom.
"There's just juice and cabbage. Gross, cabbage!"
"Don't worry. When you come in the next month, I'll fill the fridge up."
Naruto nearly squeezes out his own hair. "But I don't get how someone can't be
hungry. I don't get it!"
Without another word, he slips past. But Naruto reflexively latches a tight
hold onto his sleeve, anchoring him. Annoyed, he glances down and finds Naruto
frowning up at him, eyes wavering in confusion.
"Is it so hard to believe that not everyone has your appetite, moron? Besides,"
he mutters, rolling his eyes, "you know how I am."
Before Naruto can respond, Sasuke pries off their connection and ghosts his way
into the bedroom. Like lightning, Naruto chases after him, darting so quickly
that he nearly slips and falls when he stops suddenly.
There's no bed. Just a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor. A matt too.
Sasuke chuckles dryly, because they both will fill this room soon. "I'm going
to order two beds later this week. You like ninjas right?"
"Yeah and bicycles," adds Naruto, breathless, "But…don't change the subject.
You hear? Stop runnin' away from me, because I won't let you."
Hearing his little brother chirp angrily, for attention is a portrait he's all
too familiar with. That's him ten years ago, asking Itachi to explain. Asking
Itachi to face him. The parallel is so strong, his mouth bleeds. Sasuke bit the
inside of his cheek. Now he's swallowing the copper taste down.
"Will you listen to me!" growls Naruto, pinching at his sides, pulling at his
leg. "Don't ignore or change the subject!"
"Food doesn't entice me, don't you get it? I have nobody to eat with, so I
forget."
Naruto's eyes thin in suspicion, then roars like a lion, "You're the idiot!
Because I don't believe you. You're lying right?"
He only pets the blond hair, without adding any more explanation.
"Sasuke, you're lying, right?"
The desperation, the bewilderment, reaching out to him like a hand. Hooking,
reeling him closer and closer until Sasuke has his brother against the wall.
The whole time, their eyes search each other, with Naruto's oceans of blue
panicking in a storm—begging in complete bewilderment. And he presses Naruto's
frail shoulders, binding him completely still as he lowers his face. Now this
beautiful innocent expression takes up his whole view, and he immerses into it.
Too close, and his heart booms. But a taste, he's sure, that's all.
Flushing, Naruto lowers his face, hiding his eyes. "You say I'm unbelievable.
But you're…you're the unbelievable one."
"Look at me," he demands, to which Naruto snaps his gaze back to attention,
"Don't make a big deal out of this."
"Tch!"
He doesn't let Naruto look away, gripping tight enough to signal his need.
"It's difficult for me, Naruto. When…you're not around."
"Doesn't mean you stop eating! It's not good for you," comes the snippy growl.
A little closer, Sasuke swallows. Feeling the angry puffs of air, their
foreheads connect, as he leans that much more forward. Is he dreaming again?
He's dreaming…again.
"Tell me again, Naruto," he prompts, their mouths a breath apart, "what you
want to do when you grow up. You said we stopped talking about the future."
A smile cracks, and blooms in his whole vision like a new world forming all
around them. "Fine. Well, first of all obviously 'm gonna rule the school and
tell all the teachers to leave the kids alone! I'll be so scary and powerful
they'll have to listen. Oh and I'm gonna have a big house where all the
homeless animals will be able to sleep in and I'll take care of them all."
"All the homeless animals in the world?"
"Of course, all of them. And you'll help me right?" suddenly there's a a whole
new wind, because Naruto takes his hand, "Then we can marry, and have our own
house too."
Stupid, inappropriate, and he says something which dies half way. The words are
muted. The hollow inside of him, needing to be filled, is a powerful vacuum.
Only Naruto could fill this clawing void, and he can't understand anything.
Nothing makes sense and he chokes on the unsaid, because-
At that instant, Naruto finally leans up. What he himself was so close to
capturing, so hesitant to claim, Naruto instead seizes the moment. Their lips
brush, with Naruto blowing air into his mouth, even mumbling, "I love you." And
he's gone so long without the taste that Sasuke heats up instead of breaking
apart. Like a statue, he's frozen as Naruto nips around his mouth, smiling in
triumph.
This taste, this sip. He can hear his own restraint snap like bands. Sends
shivers up his spine, and he tightens his hold so much causing flustered noises
to escape Naruto's puckered mouth.
And that's when, in the midst of an array of Naruto's kisses, Sasuke rips away,
completely untangles before he can unleash. "Listen to yourself, you're worse
than I thought." Excited, feeling so very excited, and he sputters anything to
fend off the guilt, "you don't do that again, because I said not to didn't I,
you moron."
Naruto grins, putting up his hands in a universal gesture that says, 'I'm
innocent'. "You'll be the best wife ever, the bestest. Right?"
He shouldn't be this excited. "Oi, Naruto," he intones, wisps of fire seething,
"the joke's finished."
"Tch. Who said I was joking?" quips the other, crossing his arms, before
another inspiring idea strikes him, "Hey. Can we have bunk beds like before?
Remember? I'll be top, you be bottom!"
They need to leave. He's afraid, tremors roll through him. Opened some box,
turned the key to a wrong door, and he's treading a tight rope like one more
trigger and he'll lose it.
"We have to go," he says, checking his watch to emphasize. "We only have an
hour before they'll start to wonder where you are."
"But I have a better plan."
The word no's muted. He feels icy fear in his fingertips, but what the fuck is
he afraid of? This is insane. Makes no sense, as the universe tilts and
topples. Like he really is standing on the edge of a cliff, hand in hand with
Naruto, who'd jump with him.
Naruto flashes a brilliant smile. "We should stay here 'n think about how we'll
decorate this room, because it'll be ours right?"
Freezes when Naruto hovers from corner to corner in the barren bedroom.
"Here, we can put a bunch of books. The Gutsy Ninja right on top." Darting over
to the window, Naruto gasps at the view, "And over here we can put a telescope
and look at the stars, we can find all the constipations up in—"
"Constellations, moron."
"Yeah that's what I said! Jerk." And Naruto really gets into the dream, because
he pats the empty corners and walls, "We can paint these walls together, that'd
be so cool."
He thought he'd lost his voice. But when Naruto finally glances at him
expectantly, Sasuke snaps, "No. Absolutely not. I wouldn't let us ruin the
first house we have together. You and I'd just take something neat and mess it
all up."
"Who cares about neat? It's ours. And we can draw on it how we wanna."
He shoves Naruto. "What makes you think I'll let you? Let you do whatever you
want?"
"Because you love me, you said so!"
Before he can volley back, Naruto shoves him hard.
Agile as a tiger, Sasuke smacks away another attempted assault. Catches a tight
hold of the offending arm. This fuels a sudden spike—as energy whips at him in
the form of a swift kick. Naruto aims right for his shin. However Sasuke has
the other pinned to a wall before another kick could be dispatched.
"Stop."
Naruto struggles, panting. "You started it."
"I let you win too much," he says, voice husky with exhaustion.
A gasp of surprise before Naruto squirms violently, "That's not true. I win
fair and square. Win on my own!"
One tight twist of an arm, and Sasuke binds Naruto flat and immobile against
the wall. Haggard breaths huff and mingle in the scant space between them. He
sees a look of pained defeat crush over Naruto, and he softens.
Even loosens his grip, as he tips his face lower. "If we had bunk beds again,"
dead silence till he continues, "I'd be top. You'd be bottom. Get it?"
An embarrassing flush overtakes the cheeky expression. However, the moment he
lets go is the moment Naruto snatches the hems of his sweater.
"For now," cries out Naruto, "that's 'cos you're bigger. But 'm gonna grow up
so then I can fight for the top level, 'n reach all the buttons."
What happens next, even he can't keep up. Slams Naruto back against the wall,
earning a dull thud and a yelp of pain. This is a dream, he's not letting it
go. Not letting an opportunity turn to blackened shams. Like that day Itachi
left him, and never came back—this could be the realm where things are so
different…could be so different like a complete parallel universe: and this
dream's the wormhole, in which Naruto's that portal.
"Hey jerk—ah! What are you doin'? "
Dream, dreaming. He pins both skinny arms above a blond head, stretching out
the neck he's tasted earlier. He swoops down, kissing that same spot, more
confidently. Almost immediately, Naruto starts shaking in laughter, nearly
crying in bemusement. Feels every rattle and vibration transmit into his bones
like the dreams he always have, filling him with steam, with such heat—
And if this is real?
A deep strangled noise escapes him. And upon hearing his own desperation,
Sasuke screws his eyes tighter, because that sound's horrible—the sound of him
wanting Naruto to this point, the desire veering him to this like a chokehold.
However, the giggling erupting in the air deluges everything but the love and
desire: this complete obsessive need. He kisses a trail from the throbbing
pulse in the neck, up to the little imperceptible apples of the throat, and he
does so slowly as if to savor the sensations. Worshipping every inch, adoring
every single hackle raised—and Naruto revels in this attention, practically
quakes in pleasure as if showered in radiating, defrosting light. Goosebumps,
the both of them.
"Sasuke, this is torture," cries out Naruto in between chortles, still bound to
the wall.
The laughter and shaking provide such steady flow of heat, like warm sand
beneath his fingers. Like heat's fluid as he brushes through the wild blond
hair, each thread of gold fisting in his hands empowers. He casts aside the
sticky fringes matting Naruto's forehead, and plants another kiss. Right on the
same area Itachi always poked him dismissively, before always turning away—he
kisses this spot, and more. Because his heart's drumming, maddening, and he can
recreate…
Suddenly, there's something he has to share, and his mouth gravitates to
Naruto's ear. He breathes for moments, considering. Words could never describe
the feeling, the experience, and he kisses instead. Naruto quivers, reacting to
the sensitive spot. Gasps, twitters of excitement, and Naruto's shaky breaths
all roll over to him like stormy winds, blowing, awakening, and Sasuke loses
ground gradually.
Vanishing, the feeling of the earth below. As if they stand in their own pool
of rippling water, excitement and change whirling around their feet. No,
they're standing by the lake, watching boats and planes, and the white clouds
trekking above, together with Naruto, with Itachi watching. Sun's sweating, and
the scent of pine, the trees—he feels this with his tongue and teeth along
Naruto's burning skin.
Stiffening up, Naruto stammers out, "Am I in trouble?"
"No."
"But, but…you just bit me, Sasuke."
He runs a warm tongue over the hurt, and then there was a long kiss, chaste
being a remote part of it.
Two times, he hears his name, thrown in the cackles of Naruto's fiery bouts of
laughs. He shivers so much that he's cold again. Burned out, he snaps his grip
open, freeing Naruto. He leans against the wall right beside. Palms flat
underneath him, he scarcely feels the pressure or gravity anymore. Stays still
so the spinning could stop, and waits for focus to swarm back.
What has he done?
In the whole while, Naruto hugs at his side, mumbling into the hems of his
sweater, "You're hungry. That's why you keep eating me, Sasuke. I knew it."
***** Just a Game *****
Chapter Summary
     They fit perfectly. Two broken pieces fixed together, meant to be
     whole. Like in his dreams, like ripples of water adding to great
     waves, and he had the power to break away, keep them apart—except
     now, how can he?
Chapter Notes
     Beta: GoodMorningFlower
...
Chapter Five
Just a Game
.
.
.
.
"It sickens me. Absolutely sickens me!"
The shrieking bristles every nerve, yet Sasuke hides his agitation behind a
mask of indifference.
"Darling, you mustn't be so upset. You knew Naruto would be leaving
eventually."
Mizuki's wife slams her pitcher of iced tea on the counter. "Not to some kid!"
she spits. "Do something Mizuki, you have to report this. That Director is
playing on thin ice."
"There's nothing we can do right now, right? We're only a temporary placement."
"No. No-no you see I've been pressing for adoption and that wretch gives the
slick and easy for Uchiha."
Sasuke hovers by the exit like a sentinel, a scowl threatening to form upon his
lips; with the adoption papers completed in his hands, he's finally earned the
license to take his little brother away. Hurry up, Naruto. Finish packing. For
he couldn't stand this oppressive air any longer, which splashes bitterly to
his palate. The air of a broken home.
It was then Mizuki manages to supply an ominous confession.
"Besides, I'm not worried. As you said, he's barely eighteen—how long do you
really think he'll hold custody before something happens? One report to child
services…it's all it would take."
And the married couple turn to drill a glare of judgment. They silently say
he's not good enough, he's dysfunctional, he's wrong, he's not ready, their
gazes prodding, raking his skin.
"One report, Uchiha. I hope it's sooner than later before you drain the years
out of my kid!"
"Naruto is not yours," he tells her, chidingly, and condescending. How could
she be so stupid? "He's mine. My little brother."
"And you're nothing without him."
His blood curls to a stop. Because her eyes—moments ago, normal and
old—suddenly twinkles with a demonic edge. And her nose, once flat, points at
him accusingly like a crow's beak, then her black beady gaze narrows, peering
through him—omniscient, like Itachi. And her gaunt cheekbones flaring and
unforgiving, he's sure his pulse flutters three beats into one.
Before he could fire back, Naruto clambers down the stairs like a loud marching
parade, giggling. And at the familiar rays of gold lighting his vision, Sasuke
feels his breath hitch, the joyous laughs melting every slab of ice in his
heart. Sporting an orange duffel bag, Naruto grins before leaping off the last
step. But two grey, dull animals stand in the way of their reunion, to which
Sasuke fights off the impulse to shove them aside, to steal his little brother
in a visceral embrace.
"Naruto, please. Don't go with Sasuke, just think it through. Think really
hard. You won't have as many nice things, he's a poor student, he can't afford
for the two of you."
Blond brows furrow. "But I gotta go back home."
"This is home!" she sounds like a mental patient.
"Not without 'Suke it's not."
Right as she stumbles forward to hug the unyielding sunshine, Mizuki intercepts
her.
"Don't worry darling. Soon, he'll realize just how good you've been to him for
this past year. He's going to regret it."
Pressure deafens from within every other sound, only he feels Naruto colliding
into him. He leads them out and when he closes the door behind him, he opens a
new one.
.
.
.
…opening the way to his apartment with Naruto clutching at his leg. The keys
jingle like bells, and he casts aside all but Naruto's hands.
"And this is my section, okay?" marking lines along tiled hall, Naruto crawls
on the floor. "If you cross the line, you're entering my base, okay Sasuke?"
The whole space is theirs. For the first time in four years: home. He touches
the walls again as if for the first time ever. All four corners, really theirs.
Like a private island to themselves in an urban desert, his lips wet with
profound lust; not surprisingly, his little brother brims with the same
primitive hunger.
Mid speech, Sasuke presses forward, the winds of his sudden stride powerful
enough to send the boy into a careening stumble.
"You didn't hear the rules! Sheesh," yelps Naruto, recovering only seconds
after.
As if nothing at all happened, Sasuke slips past. "Stop making a mess," he
taunts, with a smirk. "Go unpack."
Huffing, though nonetheless determined, Naruto unpacks everything. Toys to
clothes, to toothbrush, to absolutely everything, and each object radiates
light like little bulbs of heat. Naruto's trinkets decorate the nightstands,
lines up the top of the television, and the porcelain tub's edges, by the
windows.
I want to know…
"Come here, dummy," Sasuke commands, seeing the ruffled feathers stand on end
at the nickname.
"What!"
"If I lost," he starts, but suddenly his mouth dries, "what were you planning?"
At once Naruto sits with him on the edge of the bed. "Because you'll just say
no, Sasuke…"
"Say no to what?"
A very, very mischievous grin breaks loose. "Why are you asking huh? 'Cos
you'll do what I say?"
"Curious. That's all," he's quick to defend.
"I'll tell you then."
Naruto takes his hand, dragging them to lie flat on their backs.
Both stare up at the ceiling, in silence, until Naruto explains, "We take a
picture together, right? Maybe in front of a snowman we build or somethin'.
Anywhere, you know? But you hafta smile, you gotta promise me that. No grinchy-
grinch S'uke in the photo. And…"
Their heads turn, and their eyes meet, falling into perfect clashing and
collision.
"And?" he prompts, squeezing their hands in emphasis.
"We hang it up on that wall," finishes Naruto, smile bleeding from the heart,
"Hang up the picture by the door. So when people come, they know it's our
village."
They feel the same.
Maybe, he thinks, they are the same.
And they probably laid on the bed, hands interlocked and all for a good hour.
The ceiling's the sky and they star gazed, but you know, without the stars in
view—just a plain old white ceiling.
Though the real punch line here's they shared the same imaginary plane, like
watching the same planetarium show side by side, it was unreal. For example,
Naruto'd say something about a beach, and they'd see the same waves of an
ocean, and Sasuke'd say something about a farm, just for kicks, and Naruto
could point out exactly what animals would be grazing in this farm. Like their
souls, their eyes, saw the same god damned thing. It was crazy.
But they couldn't just sit there forever. When the hour strikes five, Sasuke
rummages through the kitchen. He wanted to prepare. Problem was, he just had no
time in between work and class and then getting all the paperwork done—getting
stocked up on groceries was the last bit of attention he could afford.
He promised the fridge would be full, but it was emptier than ever.
There's still hope though, so he calls out, "Naruto, what do you want to eat?"
The sounds of fast, forceful footsteps reach his ears. Before Naruto enters the
narrow kitchen, and you should have seen the kid, acting all coolly: arms
crossed, and leaning on the frame of the entry. Naruto's a natural leader, he
could tell, and teachers told him that too. He could tell Naruto already knew
exactly what he wanted.
"What can I have?"
He lists the options, to which Naruto neither nods nor approves.
Sasuke shuts a few cupboards, before sending a pensive look. "You're not
hungry?"
"Well, do you—I mean you think we could…" now Naruto plays all shy, averting
his glittering eyes. "Go out?
"Out," he echoes, as the TV rambles on in the background, "but this is our
first day at home."
"So we can?"
"No?" I mean— "It's late, don't you see?"
He looks away because Naruto pulls off this incredibly depressed, heartbroken
expression. What's worse, he's got good peripheral vision and ends up seeing
the shining disappointment anyway. When he sits on the couch, Naruto catapults
beside him. His throat dies up, even as he swallows a million times. Unfolding
the laptop, e-mails flicker to his screen. Every window popping felt
meaningless: from professors, from classmates, all except Sakura Haruno's
letter. But before he can get a chance to open the document, a loud
vociferation slices the very atmosphere like clapping thunder.
"Fine. Whatcha up to?" is the chirp. "How 'bout we go outside! Find a ramen
place, slurp noodles and even smash our glasses together—just like in the
movies."
He feels the couch quake since Naruto shakes the couch pillows in uproar. The
fact is, he's got several reports of his own to finish and at this thought,
Sasuke narrows his eyes. He massages a throbbing temple, for with work and
class in the morning, he won't have time to complete any assignment tonight.
"Well I'll go myself, if you don't wanna."
Upon this vehement announcement, Naruto drops to all fours and crawls into the
hallway, imitating some sneaky animal. But when Sasuke says no, the apartment
falls deathly quiet like before a storm. Hobbling over in mock pain, Naruto
stands to attention in front of Sasuke. Their eyes send each other jolting
electrical currents, consequently, you could see visible twitching in the neck
and above the brow. Having sunk so deeply into the couch, Sasuke finally looks
into to the distraught expression.
"You just never say why," grumbles Naruto, presenting his defense before the
trial starts.
Sasuke stares flatly, expression plain as air. He thinks of mother and how she
maintained order and Itachi, how he had nurtured every peg of the household.
"That's it," he murmurs. "We'll eat at home for once. How it was before."
Stomping his feet, Naruto raises both arms in passionate outcry, "S'uke come
on. We always go exploring, so let's go! Cold air in our lungs, wind in our
faces, I can almost feel it."
Secretly, he enjoys the wailing. An ember flickers in his loins—the feeling of
power and authority.
"If you want wind in your face, moron, then sit by the window."
"That's not the same and you know it!"
"We're not going out now, so just drop it."
"You drop it, jerk."
With that, Naruto turns on his heel, dashing back to the main door.
Sasuke whips back, annoyed, "Naruto."
"You just say no cos you wanna. You got no reason!"
"Let the door go."
"Or what?"
Unbelievable, as to the amount of wrathful vengeance prickling over his skin.
Sasuke shoots to his feet untilwhat he hears stops him cold dead in his tracks.
That is, the sound of locks unhinging sizzles into his eardrums. It was the
sound of abandonment, the sound of shutters pounding in the wind with Itachi
disappearing and the door sweeping like a fan behind him.
"See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya."
Footsteps fade into the shadowy corridor. He watches golden hair darken into
vague silhouettes as his little brother leaves the light of their room.
"Naruto."
"Yeah?" peeps back in Naruto, teetering on the threshold.
His voice cracks like light breaking through a prism, and now all colors were
visible for the world to witness.
"I have homework from school. I can't go…play with you…"
A puff of air. "Oh."
"And I need to finish it tonight."
Despite being scarcely half his height, Naruto looks up at him with a tall
expression.
"Guess that's a good reason. But how about this? I'll stay only if I get to
have pudding and if I getta watch T.V as late. As. I. Want."
"Fine."
For the next hour he endures his kid brother's pasty face, pudding and whatnot.
He drills all focus to his laptop. Concentrate. Homework has to be done
before—Naruto roars in laughter, louder than lion—one more page to go—the
television blasts with sound effects, ninjas clashing, kunais slicing the
wind—what about my lab report? I won't get it done, and—
"Oi, S'uke! Look! You hafta see this! Look at the TV!"
When he ignores, or pretends to ignore rather, his kid brother pounces him.
"What? I told you I'm busy," he snaps, furious.
"Oi, but you got something on your shirt."
He looks down immediately. Nothing.
"Hah! Made you look, you lose!"
Naruto snickers again, puffs of sweet air rolling over both their mouths.
'Losing', had to be one of those trigger words, especially out of Naruto's
mouth too. Gripping the dainty shoulders, Sasuke keeps them both steady.
"What am I losing exactly?"
"Just that you can't ignore me," laughs the other, rumbling with hearty joy.
"I can't ignore you. But you can't ignore me either."
"So!"
"Then it's a tie."
Naruto freezes.
And with this declaration, he grips the scruff of Naruto's neck. Won't fall,
won't even feel the edge. Sasuke pulls them close with fingers deeply
entrenched in blond, holding tightly. He just needed this touch. He didn't
understand why. Without removing their clashing gazes, he presses his lips
under the round jaw. He just wanted to feel warm again, he wanted Naruto to
know it too. Whatever this was, it was restoring him. Palate's overwhelmed. A
strangled noise escapes as not even the thickest, coolest creams could muffle
the burning heat radiating from Naruto.
All I want, is this warmth, bury myself into it—that's all. Kissing a curve
over the soft bone of Naruto's jaw, he grips tighter. As if to prevent from
dropping, especially when laughter caresses the sides of his face. Golden light
fills him like he sunk into a field of sunflowers, shaking in the wind, shaking
them, drifting deep, deeper in.
Can't keep open. The door creaks wide open, his eyes close, and the melting
warmth tears in his bones until finally he whirls them flat to the floor,
tumbling together.
He rises on top, palms flat either side of Naruto's grinning face. Everyone and
everything are soft blurs. Except for his brother.
"Hey Sasuke," breathless echoes of birds in the trees.
He slumps forward, lowering his lips to the trembling form underneath him. He
kisses the blond brows knitted together in intense joy, and then he lets their
noses bump and graze. As if he's considering, as if he hovers by magnetism.
Swaying like boats on water. Winds again, and again. He follows the breeze, and
topples beside Naruto, collapsing.
"Naruto," he breathes and sinks, onto the earthy grass.
A fistful of his carpet, however, softly pressing his fingertips…reminds him
where they truly are. He licks his own lips, looking to the ceiling.
"Do I taste good, S'uke?"
"I guess."
"What do I taste like?"
"I don't remember," he admits.
Naruto bolts up, demanding, "How! You said it was good, but like cotton candy
good or ramen good?"
"It was warm."
Before Naruto could launch another question, his phone goes off. Immediately
Sasuke disconnects them, untangles from Naruto's hold; difficult to separate
like pulling a knot, as their bodies entwine naturally as vines.
Naruto dances to the cellphone's tune, waving arms in the air like turbines.
Ignoring the rambunctious bee at his side, Sasuke sits back on the couch.
"Hello?"
"Sasuke," he hears Sakura through the speakers.
Great. At this hour, he'd actually prefer the coppers.
At the sound of her sharp greeting, he tips his head back in annoyance. "Yes?"
he churns out.
"You missed today's shift too?" Her high-pitched intonation rings in his ear.
"Especially when you didn't inform me."
Funny how she always twists a given situation around. "I e-mailed you a day in
advance, Professor," he tells her.
"No I require that you at least call me, Sasuke, and besides you know where my
office is. You could have at least stopped by—"
"Fine," he intercedes, tired of her voice.
"Fine? Well I want you to stay a couple hours tomorrow, because that's fine."
She breathes out after a pause. "Come early tomorrow and stay late, so you
could make up all the work that you missed."
Sasuke fixes his intense, angry stare to the ceiling. "That won't work for me."
"Make it work. This isn't class you can brush off. It's a job, Sasuke, you
can't brush off this commitment."
Unconsciously, he glances at the expectant expression glimmering by his side.
"No," he says, "you don't understand. I'm unable to stay late into evenings
because of—"
"Other obligations," she practically growls, "well then, Sasuke. I can't accept
such a vague answer anymore, not when my own project's stalled. In fact, I
might as well find a replacement, someone who'll appreciate th—"
"Will you calm down, Sakura?" he murmurs, as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
At the sound of her first name, a sound so rare but beautiful, her rant dies.
She's asked him to call her Sakura before, but this is indeed the first time
she's probably heard it. "I...I am calm," she manages. But her heart's aflutter
and ablazen, she makes a strangled noise, that his ears catch hold of.
Sasuke closes his eyes, carefully considering. He could put Naruto in one of
those after school programs on a Saturday, the teachers mentioned some kind of
arts and crafts class and a whole movie showing in the auditorium—and it was
free, even. Thing is, Naruto'd want to go too.
"Will this Saturday be alright instead?" he then asks her, but seductively. He
ought to charm her a little, because she'll otherwise threaten him again.
After a short moment of consideration, she complies, "Yes. From ten to five."
"Is that all, professor?"
She drawls out a sound of acquiescence, at the sudden shift back into
formality. "Suppose for now, that's it. Hey Sasuke..."
"Yes?"
"Next time, all you really need to do is talk to me, by phone or face to face.
I don't like it any other way," she asserts, tone gradually softening, "and
that goes for anything. If you need to get something off your chest, don't
hesitate to knock on my door."
Knock on her door, she must be joking. She just won't stop, not until she
scores him off like a checklist of her perfect day. Swallowing the blood of the
unsaid, he answers with a clipped thank you.
And when he hangs up, Naruto leans over him, with wide eyes. "Who was that?"
"My sensei," quips Sasuke, squeezing his temples for a moment.
"Do you like your sensei?"
One look at those wide eyes, and he feels the truth clump up in his throat. His
lies fix the flooding shame like a dam.
"Naruto."
"Yeah?"
"Go clean your face and brush your teeth. We're done."
You'd think he threw a boulder, shattering the perfect grin into sad gravel
bits. "W-what?"
"I'm tired and you're annoying me."
"But we…but it's not even eight yet!"
Into the wide mirrors again, he looks.
"Go to bed. Just go."
Expression sunders like a cracked shell like he whipped Naruto into two parts:
half quivering in concern and the other rattling with defiance. Until finally
running out with childish impatience, Naruto dismounts.
Just when he thought that'd be the end, Naruto unsheathes a card from his
froggy pajama pockets. "Listen, S'uke," declares Naruto, holding out the card.
"I wasn't gonna give you this because I got very jealous. I don't wanna share
you with no one. But that ol' man gave me this, and said to give it to you…"
Like a flash, Sasuke snatches the thing as if it's a bomb about to detonate.
Reads the text: psychiatrist, psychoanalyst—Kakashi Hatake. His breaths run
shallower, quicker, and he's huffing like a bull about to charge.
"When did he give you this?" he grinds out.
"Y'know that time. When I—when I ran away. He told me some things…he said you
were lonely—but I told that stupid old man you have me. But he said some scary
things."
Now Sasuke leans forward, unable to keep the panic from his voice. "What scary
things?"
"Don't 'member all of it," Naruto lies, anyone could see that, "but you need
friends, don't you S'uke? That ol' guy said he'd be your friend."
"He wants my money, not my friendship for hell's sake," he snaps, massaging a
hand over his own burning face.
"But he said—"
"I don't give a damn care what he said. You just don't listen to what strangers
tell you—and I don't need friends."
"Everyone needs friends, come on, just—"
Sasuke garrotes the loud rambling with a glare meant to kill. "In the first
place, whatever he's told you is a lie. You hear? Everything he told you was a
lie, think about it—how could he possibly know me enough to make those
conclusions? And in the second place," his tone drops hard and cold. "You can't
just trust someone who acts nice."
"Why?" cries out Naruto, whirling away, "Why does everyone have to be liars and
strangers? Why can't we make one friend together?"
They were all rhetorical questions Naruto throws in his tantrum. And suddenly
Sasuke feels sapped and exhausted as if he's just ran miles—he's not even sure
what Kakashi told his brother—and he's too unsettled to find out.
He hears Naruto stomp off eventually. Hears the bathroom door slam, too.
Now he's alone in the darkening room, and Sasuke doesn't bother to turn on the
lights. Though the laptop glares quite mockingly, telling him the three essays
and reports he has yet to complete. And he sinks even lower into the cushion.
Weighed down by much more than just homework, and he gives the card a good one
over before tossing it aside. But not in his head, never in his head.
Unfinished business always haunts him like a demon.
***** Dirty Snow *****
Chapter Summary
     ...darkness swallowing him whole. Everything's drenched in black.
     Except for Naruto, who soars in the air, spreading arms wide under
     the spotlight. Almost like wings, capturing all the white flurries in
     the air, breezing around.
Chapter Notes
     Beta: GoodMorningFlower
                                      ..
                                  Chapter Six
                                  Dirty Snow
                                       .
                                       .
                                       .
Breathe. Flashes. Shallow sips of air, hears his own breaths, the pounding.
Feels himself fading and returning. That's how this is; how consciousness soars
like a glaring comet over and by, then gone again because one moment he sees
and in the next, blind. It was the moment where he loses himself, being apart
from his little brother for so long, it was hard to breathe.
In the blooming white winter, he waits with ceaseless anticipation. He stands
by the doubled doors, guarding steadily for them to let the kids out and awakes
in time for the grand spectacle. The show. The deceptive magic, magnificence,
and the horrendous beauty of this routine, replaying over and over like some
horrific nightmare. That is, picking Naruto every day from school.
"Come on. Father's waiting for us at home," says a mother, hugging her little
one.
One by one, an ebullient child darts out and into the arms of a loving couple.
Booming and consuming, each wholesome reunion burns painfully along his edges
like two atoms explosively combining in the periphery.
"But ma, look. Today we made crafts. This one's for you, and this one's for
grandma…"
He could revive this ideal with Naruto. He could recreate. Suddenly, the morose
mood which possessed him moments ago, succumbs to a new tide. His hands tingles
with resolve, as a sliver of hope inside of him seized his spirit, and what the
hell was he getting so bunched up for?
"Oi, Sasuke."
Naruto clings onto his leg, looking up with sharp confusion. "What're you
smiling for?"
Not even realizing he'd opened to the world with a smile, he's shocked at the
question.
"Nothing," he grits out, already turning away. "Let's go."
Blinking, Naruto trembles with resolution. Perfect, innocent lips quiver. So he
holds out a hand, but Naruto never takes it.
"Wait, S'uke! I want you to meet someone. My friend, Gaara."
He backtracks with slight stupor, and the next thing he knows, he's towering
over two kids instead of just one.
"You're not what I pictured," immediately Gaara offers, sizing him up
intensely.
Returning the scrutiny, Sasuke narrows his eyes. However, the kid bats not even
a single, ginger eyelash and maintains an iron-clad façade, contrasting heavily
against Naruto's boiling joy.
"Is that so?" he finally dares.
Gaara bends back a whole lot to send a glare. "You don't even look like
brothers."
Naruto seems a bit offended, lips parting in a gasp.
"But we are. We are brothers. You don't look like your siblings so what does it
matter? Oh—oh Sasuke—"
"What?" he grates out, never removing his sweeping eyes from Gaara.
Ambassador Naruto counts with raised fingers all they have in common.
"You know Gaara's got a big brother too?"
The kid shines his emerald rays, penetrating but blank. "I also have a dog,
Shukaku."
"Oh, yeah? Me too. I mean—Sasuke and I are gonna adopt some dogs."
Sasuke's brow twitches furiously. "Oi, Naruto, I never said—"
"But S'uke, just listen. We have a lot in common already, if you think about
it."
Gaara scoffs and tilts up his nose: as if to say the 'we' excludes Sasuke.
No. Neither he nor Gaara offer pleasantries. But upon a demanding glance from
Naruto, Sasuke reluctantly voices out several filler words. Nice to meet you,
or something along those lines. It was clipped and biting even to his own ears.
"Ok so listen up!" Shuffling foot to foot, Naruto dances in determination like
a marching leader, setting out the plans for the troops, waving little fists
with such verve, it was impossible to argue. "We're all gonna go to the park
this weekend—I was thinking—because me and Gaara wanted to go exploring,
y'know?"
Forgetting Gaara's presence, Sasuke turns to his kid brother. Loud, something
inside him collapses like a building crashing, something inside…tears in two,
and he trains a disapproving look, only for it go unheeded.
In fact, impervious to all distress signals, Naruto continues in a whisper,
"There's this rumor about a Hidden Mist Village. Thing is if you follow a map
you can find it. Could be a treasure map, even, we don't know," he pauses to
nod in unison with Gaara. "So we wanna just check it out. But you and Gaara's
brother hafta come and watch us because we can't go without grownups, right?"
"It's a maybe," he tells them, but it's not a maybe. It's not.
Unable to suppress, he lassoes an arm around an orange clad waist, connecting
them. And with this protective gesture, he ends the assembly meeting. Because
their time together, he won't share it with anyone else, especially with a cold
kid like Gaara.
As they steal forward Naruto asks, "When you say maybe…do you mean yes, or no?"
His arm tightens like a dysfunctional seatbelt, unnecessarily pressing their
sides into one.
"Can't walk like this." Naruto laughs and stumbles until finally regaining
self-preservation at last. "Sasuke! Will you answer the question already? Is
maybe yes, or is it no?"
"Mostly no," he admits.
The grin in Naruto's face dulls—almost drops completely. Hanging in there only
by a single failing, yet hopeful, hinge.
"Why?"
"Why do you think?" he returns simply.
"No don't do this, S'uke," tears the air, wounding anyone with ears. "I'm
asking you—"
"Stop asking me questions you know the answer to."
"But Sasuke. I don't know the answer!"
At this, he steels up. Forced to slow down because Naruto comes to a stubborn
halt. Their showdown's wild, tense, and missing nothing except guns; their eyes
meet like lightning bolts crossing in the dark sky.
"Because," he starts, hardening up, "we wouldn't even have a good time. Think
about it. We wouldn't even be getting anything out of it. Not with that sort."
"You've never even went with them before. You don't know."
"Oh? You're mistaken," he corrects swiftly, slicing Naruto with a thin gaze.
"All it takes is one experience, just one, to learn all flies are annoying and
useless. Why should I bother hanging around a whole nest of them?"
"They're—he's my friend!"
"Have him, for all I care. Keep with your obsession of collecting them like
some currency," he shivers toward the end, feeling goosebumps, as he faces the
widening expression, cracking before him.
"W-what?"
"But don't even think for second about dragging me into your fantasies—of
pulling me into meaningless adventures…with them."
As if in pain, Naruto's eyes dart downwards. Until the contrite expression
snaps up once more—but brightening, and hopeful.
"Listen Sasuke, I promise it won't be annoying. You'll have fun…I swear I'll
make sure," Naruto sputters out, spreading out his arms, as if offering the
best idea possible. "Everyone needs friends. They're not flies, I promise."
"Again with that? This crusade on owning friends, I'm not interested," he
retorts, with calm derision.
"Just please come with me, please!"
Despite the inherently persuasive tone, Sasuke shakes his head. "I said I'm not
going. That's the end."
"Fine." A storm brews in blue mists. "You don't want to go, fine. But can I?"
Completely disarmed, he blinks and then stares with disbelief.
"If Gaara's brother will go, then you don't really have to and I'll…I'll be—"
Losing momentum, Naruto sways and wilts. You could even see the little apples
of the throat bob nervously, swallowing something dense, and painfully heavy.
"You'll be what, Naruto?"
"Forget it."
That's when he sees. Them staring at the taut horizon with the sun behind the
clouds; the thickening shroud, the insurmountable distance, of them so far
away. And Sasuke reaches out, reeling them together so quickly, both whuff out
a sigh from the collision. Breathing again, and holding in.
"I can't just sign you off to someone else," couldn't trust another, just
couldn't, "you know already. I won't let it."
"Forget it, okay? I changed my mind anyway."
He embraces tighter. Needs the support to even consider because he'll go,
miserably. With dread in his feet, he'll drag himself to watch Naruto play with
the others. And just as he's about to give in, as he's about to capitulate, his
brother makes a confession.
"Because if you're not there with me," whispers Naruto, burying more and more
into him. "I can't explain, just hurts to breathe all of a sudden. And I can't
just go. Not without you."
Saved. He won't have to. Relief delivers every muscle in his body. And he
would've gone too if Naruto kept threatening to go with someone else's brother;
however now the doubt recedes like ebbing waves, and he furthers his stance.
"And I won't go. Especially with them around," he states flatly. "That's a
fact."
"Then—then I won't either."
He absently fixes his brother's lopsided earmuffs.
"Naruto."
"Yeah?"
"You're right. I don't have friends," he admits, before disconnecting them. "I
just have one."
It took some considerable time for the meaning to dawn over Naruto, who
eventually grins.
And they stroll together hand in hand through the overpass, through the fog
almost like Naruto's his lamp and light in the mists. Falling, endlessly: the
snow. It fell like a confetti parade for some celebration, floating like little
bubbles from a glowing grey sky, Naruto whirls through it, tongue sticking out,
hoping to catch the snowflakes.
Dressed like urban eskimos, Sasuke watches from underneath his hood as Naruto
forms a deadly snowball.
"Think fast!"
Little does Naruto know, he's hiding his own icy ball of wrath behind his back.
"You too," he counters, and quickly volleys his own snow bomb.
Throwing them as with in any sport, the globes of snow meet in mid-air like two
asteroids barreling towards each other. And he experiences the big bang when a
huge explosion of icy flakes rains down upon their faces.
A low sound rumbles from his gut, while Naruto cheers like the mad riders of a
plummeting rollercoaster. The explosion shocks of white snow showers over them
as though entrapped in a glittering snow globe or marching through a festive
parade. And yet, while each flake reflects the winter sun's descending rays—all
he truly sees is his little brother, basking in the glinting light.
After briefly recovering, Naruto and Sasuke meet in the eyes. Naruto smiles
triumphantly. Then without word, Sasuke lets a huff of ill-repressed laughter.
In this manner, many a snowball fight erupts between them.
"What's the score, S'uke?"
"Against my ten points, you're dead last with one win."
Naruto's cheeks distend like a blowfish, ready to explode. "That's not funny,
jerk. What's the real score?"
"Five versus five," he says airily.
"So a draw," grumbles Naruto unhappily, pounding fists together. "You hear? We
can't go home until we settle this! Once and for all."
Sasuke's hands glisten and freeze from melted snow. They're turning red.
"I think I had enough."
"Of losing," snickers Naruto, already forming another sneaky snowball.
When Naruto pitches the icy globe, ready to catapult the missile—Sasuke
snatches the dainty wrist in a single fell-swoop maneuver.
Gasping at the grip, Naruto stammers, "That's cheating, you know?"
"I said enough. Don't you listen to me anymore?" he tells, to which Naruto's
eyes widen. "Look. Your hands, they're freezing," he intones teasingly. "Now do
you know what happens when you let yourself freeze?"
Humor vanishes as Naruto shakes his head, staring with determination.
"But we won't. We won't ever freeze."
"You know that's not true."
"We have a heart, don't we? And as long as I have you, I'll always feel
powerful and never freeze."
And with that, the snowball falls out becoming dust to the wind, crumbling as
if it'd never formed in the first place. He intertwines Naruto's bare, equally
cold hand and laces each finger perfectly around his own. He's about to tuck
their connected palms into the warmth of his coat pocket until Naruto pulls
back to blow hot puffs of air into their interlocked hands. Instantly this
struck him paralyzed: the sensation, of his kid brother's strangely hot lips
pricking through the icy cold.
In between exhales, Naruto smiles. "Imagine I could breathe fire. Like dragons
and ninjas," fancying the condensing air of his breath to be a magical smoke.
Warmth rolls over the icy bones of his knuckles. Sees not the fire, yet he
feels. With how close Naruto's soft lips scarcely graze his wet fingertips:
striking him stiller each second, pouring and filling him with invisible flame.
"Kinda looks like it right? Like I'm breathing fire."
In one smooth sway, he pulls Naruto to him, hooking them closer. The amount of
adoration bursting—you should have seen the puckered lips huffing and puffing,
sweetly attending and pecking with unbound love.
"Oi—hey Sasuke what are you—"
And in fervor, Sasuke kisses the dainty hand he's stolen, so wet with melted
snow, tingling and invigorating his numb lips. Still tethering their connection
into a tender loop, he presses Naruto's palm flat against his own cheek. He
could feel every centimeter and every heartbeat of Naruto's soft hand like
feathers to the skin, comforting.
"You're pretty warm," comments Naruto, smiling sheepishly.
"That's just you. All you."
He guides the touch up to his own brow. Pins and needles rendering him more
awake. Savors the feeling of sparks gliding along his flesh, for all other
sensations are muffled, remote in comparison. And tighter he presses Naruto's
hand, so he could no longer hear the sounds chasing them. Putting out the
incessant squawking of the ravens perched along the wires, the city lines, and
atop the transformers, as its strident echo finally blunted.
However this spontaneous gesture, has Naruto blushing and looking up curiously.
"You know, you look nice," comes the mumble, "I mean, with my hand on your
face."
Could feel the corners of his lips twitch, curving—but not completely. Then he
notices the few people entering their scene. People, stealing their intimacy,
eating at his sides with twinkling curious stares…and he walls up.
"Tell me about school. You had a crafts class?" asks Sasuke, finally
disconnecting Naruto's palm from his cheekbone.
Naruto perks up. "How did you know? You—you really can read my mind! I knew we
had telepathic connections!"
He snorts at the uncurbed enthusiasm. "Heard some girl from your class tell her
mom," he admits, while fitting a glove over each of Naruto's hands.
"Was she blonde or dark-haired?" queries Naruto with sudden interest.
Unnerves him, how his kid brother's all intrigued over a girl, already.
"Dark-haired. Pale."
Naruto grins. "Oh, Hinata probably. Her name's Hinata, then. She's so weird,
don't ya think? Well, anyway, thanks to her now the surprise is ruined."
"What surprise?"
"The surprise. The surprise of the century. For you—for us." Naruto whirls away
and bends down, to rummage in his backpack. "You're not gonna like it, S'uke.
But I was hoping the surprise would make it fun 'cos I love seeing you all
shocked. Y'know, when you don't have time to hide your smile."
Lets a sigh of exasperation. "Wait until we're home. Not now, we…"
The words die off. As Naruto holds 'the surprise' up, letting it shine in the
light.
"This is the frame we're gonna put that photo in," explains Naruto, as
practiced as any show-and-tell expert would sound.
"You really made this?"
Naruto points to the doodles festooning the corners. "See? I painted that in
there. I know how you love symbols. This here's the fan symbol, and this one's
whirlpool, and this one's—well I don't know what this one's, I just got carried
away."
"Alright. Put it away." Tired, draining, and it really felt like staring
straight at the sun. Directly, and for too long.
Scowling, Naruto packs the frame carefully in his bag. "She ruined it.
Seriously. I'm gonna let her know tomorrow, I swear," he rants, "I mean if she
just waited like every other kid and—"
"Let me carry." Sasuke grabs the backpack, slinging it over a shoulder.
"—kept to herself, till they got home," continues the tirade, too self-
absorbed, "then I woulda gotten to see you smile. I woulda gotten a kiss, too.
But you just look annoyed! That's not fair! Really, really not fair."
Ignores the antics. He leads them, taking Naruto's hand again. And drifting
close to home, they pass a small park notably empty of people. Thin films of
snow coat the usual sober benches and playground, rendering the sight to behold
as if the jungle gym yelled 'reserved': no lines, and the perfectly untouched
snow begs to be ruined.
"Come on, let's play," pleads Naruto, bringing them to a stop at the entrance.
As the last of the sun's light wanes, he can scarcely see anything but a set of
swings. And Naruto's begging expression, of course.
"Go ahead."
When Naruto runs forth…
He sees…indeed the outlines are longer, taller, hair's shaggier, and even the
energy's spikier. Full of conviction, ripening still at this age of nine years.
And he imagines how every perfect bone will grow, and how the presently high-
pitched voice will drop. How far would it drop, would it be deeper than his?
"Oi!" cries out Naruto, climbing atop a tower. "Don't let your guard down!"
Thwiiiiip!
Couldn't completely dodge the snow missile. As his shoulder splatters with the
snowy grits.
Sasuke grumbles while he dusts off. "Your aim's pretty good." Too good.
The compliment thankfully went unheard.
"Guess what?" Tittering in laughter, Naruto's eyes gleam like the ice under the
sun. "I win. That breaks the tie. I'm on top of the world!"
He swipes the last of the detritus. "Stop yelling, idiot. We're out in public,
get it? You're just…"
"I'm amazing, right?" finishes Naruto.
"…embarrassing."
Naruto wrinkles his nose, and plants both hands on his hips. "I'm Sasuke and I
like to wear my pants like this," pulling up the pants way past the waist,
Naruto mimics a nasal voice, "I read boring books and everything has to be
clean and no pudding for dinner. I also don't like losing even though I lose
all. The. Time."
Falling for the taunt, Sasuke jolts forward, looking up into the laughing eyes.
"Get down here and say that."
"Or you can get up here," returns Naruto slyly, withdrawing into the small
cavern.
He's silent for a long moment, considering. "No. You've probably booby trapped
the place. I'll wait until you're done."
Like lightning, the naughty face pops out from the cave again. "You love it
when I imitate you. You love it S'uke."
"Don't be stupid. You don't even sound like me."
Still perched on the tower, Naruto lets his feet dangle like a lazy cat. "All
I'm hearin' is you begging for more. When you get all mean, that's just you
wanting more love, wanting more of—"
"You really like the sound of your own voice, don't you?"
Dangerously hanging with his hands, Naruto pushes forward. Grinning, and then
puckers lips for a kiss.
"Come on," demands Naruto, opening an eye, then closing both, "let's kiss. It
always makes you feel better."
When he stares unmoving, Naruto steals the last inch with unreal simplicity.
Their lips brush, ice-cold and warm at once. The brief connection was enough to
send him stumbling back. Heart lurching and debilitating. He whips around to
check if anyone's seen—if anyone bore witness to this horrific intimacy.
Nobody. No one.
"Don't ever do that again," he snaps, sharper than a falcon's claw. "You hear
me?"
And the second he turns away, Naruto cries out, "Come back! Wait. You need to
see this."
No surprise it's another snowball to the face.
Roaring in laughter, Naruto slaps his own knees in amusement. "Got you again!
That means you hafta do what I say for the rest of the day. So come up here!"
"Naruto," his grinds out, spitting out the snow in his mouth. "Unless you
really want me to take revenge on you, I suggest you stop."
The laughing curls to a sudden halt, like a song muted halfway.
Next thing you see is Naruto shuffling out of the tower, sighing. "Fine. I'll
stop."
Leaning on the bark of a tree, Sasuke watches the other dash for the swings.
He'd offer to push, but Naruto despises getting help, saying the whole thrill
of swinging is to build up to it.
So he watches instead; the spotlight on this dark, lonesome stage of the world.
Merely watches, and yet he experiences too. Seeing Naruto soar in the air,
flying through the whitest snow falling, and falling—swarmed by pale
feathers…glistening, with effulgence…
When his eyes drift shut, he still sees the glowing image brand into his mind,
echoing like blinding light.
"I made a promise I would take care of Naruto," he remembers Itachi tell him,
when they first brought Naruto home.
As if Itachi stands right beside, he answers. "Then why did you leave us?"
"You didn't even want Naruto, you said he was a nuisance, remember?" continues
Itachi, only the voice echoing so perfectly still, and unfazed. "But he is a
better brother than I ever was."
Screwing his eyes tighter than ever, Sasuke wills to mute the voice. He presses
his temples to compress the chaos, to plug a stop to the blasphemies.
Still breaking through. Almost, could he feel the cold water over his fingers,
as he had done so that day, dipping them into the lake. Five shades of green
reflected off the water, and he saw his own thirteen-year-old self, hovering
and staring back. Like looking glass.
With Itachi looming over, just like that day, who turned remote, and peered
down with judgment. "You knew where to find me, why didn't you?"
And the lake had shattered, the surface exploding as if he hurled a boulder. No
longer did he see his reflection.
Sasuke snaps his eyes open, darkness swallowing him whole. Everything's
drenched in black. Except for Naruto, who soars in the air, spreading arms wide
under the spotlight. Almost like wings, capturing all the white flurries in the
air, breezing around.
"Look how high I'm getting," cheers Naruto, could hear the grin, "think you can
beat me?"
Bz. Bzz. Each flicker of the street lamp overhead cackles, as if taking its
last breaths before going out. Dying, fading, and blinking slowly. He's
witnessing something like a star's death, with how the light turns slowly from
orange to blue; until at last, concentrates into a dim, single point.
Now he hardly sees Naruto.
Hearing only the creaks of the swing. Feeling only, the snow fall upon him like
feathers, like white feathers—
Pad, dap…
Fierce wind curls around him.
Movement other than the wind catches his periphery. That of a shadow flitting…a
form of a man. Stepping so very slowly, closer and closer. Tapping so gently,
ever quietly. And several paces away did the elegant silhouette drift over and
closer like a frightening ghost, reaching forward.
Sasuke tears away from the tree. He calls out for Naruto, but his own voice
sounds foreign, "Let's go now."
He hears Naruto swing faster, pendulum hissing as its rocked back and forth.
"Come on, let me finish," is the angry retort.
Glaring back at the shadowy form, Sasuke freezes over. No, no, this can't be.
Drumming. Booming. His heart sounding a maddening beat, up to his mouth, into
his very mind as he stumbles away.
Because now the shadowed man stands beside the very dead street lamp he'd
abandoned just seconds ago. Watching, waiting, stalking, following. No words
could describe the horror flowing in his veins.
Him. The silhouette. It's him. Soulless and pitch black, the shoulders slope at
the exact angle, the height and width of the frame perfectly matching, Sasuke
can see it, the hair, the distinct length of the neck—
And he's running, with Naruto in hand.
Like a wild animal's chasing after them, he sprints so quickly, nearly
tripping. Only hearing echoes while the wind beats his face. He thought he
escaped, but now the cawing blares over the cacophony of the city traffic, like
horrific demons.
"Sasuke!" screeches Naruto, scarcely keeping up, "Why—why are we running?"
When Sasuke shoots a glance back, he sees the shadow looming in. Step by
confident step, hovering after them like a storm cloud. And that's when the
worst dread of all settles in the pit of his gut.
"There's a man following us," he says, as they rocket across the crosswalk.
Naruto widens his eyes, before looking over his shoulder. As Sasuke leads them
up the next block, Naruto breathes, "But Sasuke I don't see anyone following
us! Who are you talking about?"
"All black," he answers in short clipped breaths. "Right behind us. From the
park."
Again, Naruto comments thickly, "But there's no one like that. I looked."
The moment he feels Naruto's hand slide away from his, Sasuke whips around.
"Naruto just liste—"
"No. I'm not running again."
Not a single speck of humor dances in his brother's expression.
Sasuke reaches over. "There's no time now, do you hear? We need to get home."
Resisting as mightily as a lion, Naruto yanks away.
"First show me who we're running from. Because last time you said there was
someone, but I didn't see anybody. Now I don't see anybody either, so are you
lying to me?"
"Lying?" he spits. "Do you even hear yourself?"
Naruto scowls. "Okay so show me the jerk that's following us." Furious blue
eyes roll side to side, searching among the flocks of passerby. "I'll tell him
to stop."
"Shut up and listen to me."
With that, he grabs the collars of Naruto's jacket, dragging him forward.
"Let go!"
"Home. We're going home, now."
"Why? Why are we running from someone who doesn't exist!"
At that, Sasuke freezes. The accusation burns his flesh, and his grip melts.
And yet, as he slings a searching gaze, over the sea of traffic, and flitting
passerby—he finds neither the ghostly silhouette nor shadow, not even the echo
of the same caw—hearing only honking, the plain noises of pedestrians stepping,
and the bustling air of cars.
"…because I'd rather stand up to the jerk than run. So tell me where…oi,
Sasuke?"
What's happening?
The wall. His fingers press against the frozen panes of a store window, then
the cold hard bricks. As he's swayed for the nearest support, for this is
indeed the second time, and there's no way he's imagining this.
"We lost him, that's what happened," Sasuke assures, hoarse with exhaustion.
"Lost him in the crowd. That's what happened."
"Who's him? Who are you talking about?"
No. No, fuck, no. What's happening. One moment he sees perfectly, and the next
he's blind. Saw him. Him. And heard the voice too: the same chillingly placid
voice.
Worried, Naruto grabs his arm. "We'll find the jerko, believe me."
Sasuke shakes the beseeching grip off. And he slams a violent kick to the
dumpster, earning a metallic moan and clanging sound, he plants a palm on the
abused surface, panting out tendrils of fury.
Whatever wrath was on his face, garrotes Naruto.
"I'm sorry, alright? Let's go home." There's glistens of regret, and tone
hoarse with pain. "You know I didn't mean it. I know you never lie…don't get
mad, come on. Don't be upset."
He withdraws his bruising fists. And that's when he sees, his gloved hands are
covered with dirty snow. Grits, dried and bled, soaking through…and through. He
snaps the gloves off, and dirty beads trickles along his skin. Revolting,
flushing into his very blood.
Doesn't sleep. That night, or the next.
Wide awake, he watches the door, heart lurching at the nightmare, at the
possibilities. And he watches the rise and fall of Naruto's small form in dim
moon's light.
You knew where to find me, so why didn't you?
Why now? Is he remembering this?
Suddenly, he feels the mattress dip. He clutches reflexively at his sides—only
to see his brother squatting beside, in jammies.
"Naruto, what's wrong?"
Naruto crawls closer, in this consuming darkness. "I can't sleep."
"Why?" he asks.
"Because," comes the confession, coarse and bristled, "I feel like you're not
telling me something."
On the bend of his arm, Sasuke rests his head. Closes his eyes, especially when
Naruto buries into him, connecting them. He lets. Spiraling together, deep,
deeper in, breaths synchronizes into one shared melody; as they lie flush
against each other, and the heat devours his skin like a whole forest aflame.
An awkward, froggy clad knee parts his legs. With Naruto's susurrations
distracting him, "Just tell me who the guy is."
"What are you talking about?"
And Naruto's face presses into his neck, whispering, "The one you say is
following us all the time."
"Forget it," he growls, "why are you still on about this? Just go to sleep, you
know we have to wake up early tomorrow."
"You're gonna leave me to find that man. The one who keeps following us," fumes
Naruto, canines bared. "But if you just stay, I promise I'll tell that man to
stop, I'll make him if I hafta, just don't…just don't go. And if you're gonna
go, take me with you."
Even submerged in darkness, he still sees the blue tinted mirrors. Cherishing,
and following his every movement: like iridescent pearls at the bottom of the
darkest sea, catching impossible light. And in the next moment they flash like
cat's eyes in the night—almost predatory, even the way Naruto's usual high-
pitch, turns into purrs of indignation.
"I promise I can help," rasps out Naruto, only to be quickly shushed.
The 'I-promise' speech, slashed short—as Sasuke reaches out, running fleet
fingers through blond hair.
Reveling in these ministrations, Naruto leans up ever slowly. Their foreheads
rub and touch. Now, the winds of his little brother's candied breaths fills and
fuses the air.
"I wanna fix it," admits Naruto, squeezing his shoulders in emphasis.
The next moments forever wall his heart into prison; inescapable, interminable,
and forever punishing as painful iron bars vault in, squeezing, choking almost.
He feels his elbows dig into the mattress, in the agony of this strange
dichotomy. Of defrosting, but not burning to ashes.
At first, the kiss shares like a chaste salutation. A swim in warm tropical
waters of relief and his hands naturally secure in the soft tufts of hair,
tipping up his own lips only in reflex. However then, he drifts in a waking
dream; to feel them like blurred lines intersecting, it was surreal.
As Naruto pours affection between their mouths, at some point stopping to
breathe—to then return with extraordinary emblazonment. Naruto nips and laps,
with such unusual fervor…Sasuke's eyes snap wide open. Waking completely. He
stares in disbelief. Yet he scarcely sees anything, except feeling victim to
the most animalistic licks and bites, hitting his flesh like pounding rain.
Instantly, he traps the surprisingly hot round face with both hands, earning
him a hoarse whine, further shocking him.
"What are you doing?" Sasuke demands, as steadily as one could with bounding
pulse.
"I—I mean—we always feel better when we kiss," explains Naruto, breathing in
little pants. "I'm just trying to apologize."
He pushes the other off. "No. Don't do that again."
It was the thing which restored him, made him breathe easier. But now? He could
feel Itachi watching over, judging him. He feels shame, how could he need
someone's touch this much? It's crippling. This kind of love makes him weak.
"Why? Did I hurt you?"
As if. Naruto could run claws and leave his spine bleeding in gore—and he'd be
alright with it.
"Yeah," he lies.
And he meant to snatch the covers and curl to the opposite side of his
bed…but…his hands—they're wet. Wet, and sticky. Coated with beads of muddled
brown, he couldn't see well.
In a panic, he kicks off the bed, and turns the light. And he saw much worse,
felt much worse afterward. For it was nothing on his hands. Under torrenting
waters, running the sink full blast, he washes and washes, even going so far to
carefully dry each finger of his, leaving not even a particle of dust to
settle.
"Get in your own bed, now," he tells Naruto, who's squatting on the edge.
"But—but—"
Sasuke's finger hovers over the light switch. "Hurry up, don't make me ask
again."
When finally the room's swallowed into darkness, he climbs back into bundle of
sheets, feeling still, seeing still, the dirty snow melting and soaking. He
bolts up, into petrified sitting position. Eyes widening, blurring because over
and over, he turns his sullied palms, dirty and icy…and muddy when he buries
his nose into them.
***** Smoke Detected *****
Chapter Summary
     His fist pounds…like a gavel hitting a verdict. As the screeching
     animal plastered on the ceiling becomes caged in his hands; and with
     fingers atremble, he paunches, guts it, and throws its innards in the
     wastebasket...
Chapter Notes
     Beta: GoodMorningFlower
     A/N: Also, the next two installments are written out. Only needing to
     go through a beta/editing process.
     Art: by IzayaOrihara1996
                                       …
          A time skip…of one year. Sasuke is nineteen, Naruto is ten.
                                        
                                       .
                                       .
                                       .
 
...
Chapter Seven
Smoke Detected
.
.
.
.
 
"Turn off the alarm," a voice flutters, rustling the quiet.
His eyes snap wide open.
The windows are covered in snow with thick mounds piling atop the sill. He
hears the frozen knives, icicles, and hail hissing against glass, answering
him. December, always December. He swings the covers aside. Nonetheless, Naruto
hugs his waist and that's when he realizes the drool all over him, trailing his
thighs, his abs, wherever Naruto could mark him: he was sopping in his kid
brother's saliva.
"Where's the blanket, yo?"
He's shirtless, but so very damp around the edges. Adrenaline's leaving and the
frustration of icy sweat squeezes into his voice.
"Get up."
A wet nose nuzzles deeper. His ab twitches at the sensation.
"But my lord Sasuke—the castle is snowed in!"
"It's a weekday morning, we can't play pretend."
Instead, Naruto rolls in the hot sand with him, kicking closer so they sprawl
and entangle.
"But I'm sick."
Like molten needles piercing through his armor, he feels every ounce of
Naruto's warmth. He sinks deeper as if the mattress is a placating mire.
Naruto sniffles, forcing the act. Really phony. Blowing out the words 'achoo',
as if that's how a sneeze went. When Sasuke palpates the forehead, he earns
another whine. Naruto mewls and keeps firm latch of Sasuke's leg as if it's a
treasure never meant to let go.
"Come on, I swear today's for real," wheedles Naruto, "believe me. Just write a
note like before!"
Like hot fragrant tea, the outburst pours. He relishes the flavored intensity
as Naruto clambers closer, holding the dainty shoulders. Like they're about to
climb a mountain and this grip was security itself, a harness.
But he was so high and so dazed, and Naruto's lips so close to his.
"Why are you trying to avoid school?"
"Because they don't like me, S'uke. Especially Iruka-sensei."
He waits for Naruto to continue. Although his eyes narrow with every bit of
information revealed.
"…I didn't really start the fight…believe me…some fatso ate my chips…without
asking, and I had to—"
"So you started a fight?"
"A food fight," Naruto corrects swiftly, with a point of pride. "And everybody
was laughing and screaming, and then the whole cafeteria went kaboom! Pow pow,
wachoo! We all had fun, wicko, amazing fun. But now…because of Iruka-sensei, he
made our whole grade clean up. Everyone got punished. Everyone blames me."
Naruto nuzzles into him before continuing in a grave voice.
"I even said I'd clean everything by myself. But no. Then recess gets taken
from us too! You shoulda seen the hate in everyone's eyes. The girls, boy, oh
boy, they're the worst. They won't even look at me." Naruto pauses, naughtily
chuckling. "'Cept Shino and I put bugs in the girls' desks before. That's why
they hate me. But now they hate me even more!"
He feels his eyes darken. Couldn't explain in words: the pits. The pits inside,
churning like a cauldron.
"It's not your fault. The system is a failure," he says, to which Naruto lights
in joy. "Teachers cause grief in the whole class, because they don't know how
to deal with one student."
"How. I don't…"
"Dummy. Don't you see? They have janitors to clean the mess. Instead, they
want—they hope—to break you through your own peers."
Fire's emboldening. "So you're on my side?!"
But a single cowlick of Naruto's hair points like a sunlit gable—very absurd,
distracting, and clownish— and Sasuke absently fixes this mess with combing
fingers.
"Isn't it obvious, moron?"
At this, Naruto sways forward, pressing their foreheads. One gesture of them
aligning felt like two planet's atmospheres crashing, grazing.
"Then let's stay together." Naruto breathes the clouds away. "Take me with
you."
"I can't." Why? Why couldn't he stay for one day? "We can't."
In challenge, Naruto bites hard under the square of his jaw. Then breaking into
a snicker, bumps their noses in affectionate sways.
And with one hand still entrenched in the messy hair, Sasuke tips up. Floods of
longing, to stay, to surrender like a curtain shaking in his mind—the question
of—what was he fighting in the first place? He handles Naruto by the hips, and
tumbles them, reversing their positions. Hangs by a thread, the way their lips
almost touch.
Guffawing underneath him, Naruto rumples the sheets even more. "Mission—keep
the S-ranked criminal at home."
"I'm the criminal?"
The words ghost, the way his fingers trail Naruto's collarbone, in absent
admiration.
"Not to me. I'll never think that way, even if everyone else says."
When Naruto flashes a grin, he picks the fruits and sweet curves of the smile.
Kisses the corners, then the warm temples; and the taste, the blossoming scent
rapidly overwhelms the air, weightless, and peripheries blur…heady…except when
he looks up. Locked in and entranced at the clear glazes of the horizon, framed
in by pale lashes…
When they watched their island sink, and submerge in flames—always surrounding
him, the distant blue horizon, guiding.
He turns from the view. Pulls the shirt's hems up, and exposes Naruto's
vibrating tummy, trembling from laughter. In the next instant, he kisses the
small swirl, the button, around it too; and the tender ministrations send
Naruto into convulsive fits. Gentle then intense because he blows his breath
like a motorboat, for kicks, and the rumbling laughter peaks. Peaks like a
deafening song, the final acts of parades he always longed to see, hear.
"Forbidden tickle-no-jutsu," cries Naruto in between chortles.
He only hears forbidden like a distant noise; a train's roar smothered by the
tunnels.
When he feels the mouth full of candied laughter, the whole world's open. And
he's in, lonely. Naruto sucks and blows air like winds from foreign seas, yet
lonely still. So he presses, his hands entreat for consent. Pleading and
seizing the seconds like they're stepping stones to a new place, their new
place. He runs a warm tongue, feeling the steam hiss out of Naruto's lips,
feeling the soft—unbelievably soft—face contort in confusion. Slips past the
frontiers of teeth, into a cavern small, secluded. New and jolting.
Because Naruto meets him there, making sounds in bewilderment but in agreement.
Meeting him with this unconditional warmth.
And Sasuke jumps back, evading the flytrap of being devoured whole.
What am I…
Holding a pillow as a weapon, Naruto threatens to fire the 'paper bomb'. "If
you can't dodge this then you're dead. You'll be my zombie slave, and we'll
stay here all day. So, one, two—"
…doing?
"Three!"
Like snowballs catapulting, hitting him. Exactly this. Dodging until he's
tired, but not this time. Bamming, kaboom, like Naruto shouts. The ice flakes
spattered. Wants to catch them all. Drifting specks turns to dust. His little
brother's mirth restores life, and he was laughing too. They rolled and dived
in the cold white.
And now he sits up panting. The pillow…which strikes him square in the face,
knocking needles into his breath… he looks to Naruto's expectant gaze. Then to
his hands.
Naruto misinterprets his faltering pause as a loss. "That's okay, don't be
upset. I killed a clone of yours. You were really somewhere else. Like—like in
the trees!"
Somewhere else. He licks his lips, as the taste simmers his mouth like spice.
"Where's the real Sasuke hiding? Huh? Answer, impostor!"
Wielding another pillow, Naruto pitches it up, only to feel aggravated at the
silence. At the lack of fight, the weapon's lowered.
"Alright so, time-out," Naruto murmurs, as if deflating from monster
adrenaline. "Listen. Just so you know, if I do this hand sign, it means I
multiplied into a million me's."
He glares at Naruto, unmoving.
"Okay time-in! Wait—time-out again." Naruto scratches his cheeks in sudden
realization. "If there's a million me's, then there's a million bombs and the
whole place will blow up if you don't answer me. Just so you know."
"Moron."
"Time-in! Alright, everyone attack Sasuke!"
Sasuke shoots up, turns away, and his scowl deepens when Naruto clings on to
him.
"That's right, now my clones will have their way with you."
"I need to shower."
"Time-out. You have to say time-out. And—really? I was winning, and now you
wanna call quits?"
"…and I need to make breakfast."
"—hate when you cheat like that. Fine. But can we continue after?"
Soon as he's freed, he jolts like a harsh wind. The blankets fall to the floor,
and he whizzes past in his boxers. The tent forms over his arousal before
Naruto could see and he dives straight into the bathroom, slamming the
door. Badum. He abandons a stricken Naruto, who shortly follows after, blinking
in comical confusion.
"Can I come inside?"
"No."
Waking, rousing to that. Felt like stumbling upon an uncharted shore,
frightening, exciting: almost suffocating, smothering. What was it? No—no. He
locks the door.
"But why? Why're you locking me out? What did I do?"
Sheds his clothes off and runs a shower, cold. In the mornings as usual for
him, for waking up's becoming difficult, more and more, his nerves slipping,
and it was wrong of Naruto to wedge in so closely. That's it. He keeps
murmuring, it was so very uncomfortable. Wasn't right. He'll have to explain to
Naruto, that they couldn't anymore; they're not kids—not like before.
He requires basic space.
"You're annoying the hell out of me, Naruto. You need to sleep in your own
bed."
Knocking again, he hears Naruto press a face against the barrier.
"But my lord! The nekomatas are after us. We need to stick together at all
times!"
"I'm asking for space, idiot. Let me shower in peace."
"But I can't sleep. Not without you! Is that so bad?"
He doesn't answer. Doesn't know. The buzzing and fire under his skin,
pressurizing and not releasing—a blanket, a straitjacket. He shivers again. His
back leans on the tiled wall, escaping the brunt of the shower. Without
thinking a hand lowers, where pressure's built up the most, keeping his gaze
fastened out the frigid window. The strokes do little, the pace ascends, and
the tremors build to finale; he grips tighter, ridding his arousal, forcing his
mind blank—but it won't turn blank. It won't.
Because he sees the taut, blue horizon, filtering the sun. Beams so bright they
blind, and he screws his eyes shut. Why is he so far, standing so far? Yet
still seeing the line —the edgeless end.
He was there. When he held Naruto's ungainly balance, avoiding the rabbit
holes, thorny creepers, the sly snakes. Leading them, through the whispering
windblown grass. The pavement rapidly disappeared beneath their sprinting feet,
replaced with fertile, fuming earthy soil. Their prints…they fitted so
perfectly, impressed upon that earth with a depth unmatched. In the forest, he
climbed a tree. It was so easy, he laughed. Laughed even while Naruto begged to
be lifted up—to see the view, to share the moment. So he'd climb back down and
strap his kid brother, like a backpack, over his shoulders, burdening the
weight of them together.
"Is that so wrong?"
They sat on that branch, Naruto in his arms, looking below the whole world. But
especially they watched the path they came from. And perched on their throne,
from their view, it was really a small, insignificant path. Narrow, short
littered with holes, creepers and adventurous obstacles they overcame—seemed so
petty. The footprints they left behind, now just mounds of disrupted ground. As
they had sat closer to the sun, the leaves above, let flowers of light, drape
them.
Warm. Now he's warming. Even the icy pane and blurring window couldn't quench
the vivid he feels. No clouds, no grey, no loneliness. And noises strangle, as
he throws his head back, running his fingers in relentless strokes.
Because in the perfect instant, orange, red, and violet hues blur through
frosted glass—ambulances gleaming, and shooting past—sirens blocking out his
groans of pleasure. Couldn't hear.
"You need me, I can help!"
Like a blinding flash, it comes from nowhere so violently striking, even
deafening. Disorients. He grips the walls. The cold tiles escape, slip.
Can't—control—shaking. Euphoria, sweeping. Euphoria then hell. Horrid hell in
the flip of the axes as the world rolls like a sorry ball downhill: he's
coughing, as the most intense fit takes over, his lungs wailing rebelliously
against restraints.
"You jerk," Naruto bangs, bangs. Pounds like a bulldozer. "Let me in!"
A hand cups over his mouth as he hacks. Violent coughs chafes his throat, gusts
strong enough to topple a house to dust. Not even the balm of a massaging
shower deluges the pain piercing up his spine. He doubles over.
Drumming, Naruto clamors for attention from the other side.
They built a treehouse there. On that throne. Itachi helped…Itachi was
everything…but hid in the background, handing him the wrench, and handing
Naruto the planks. Itachi let them rule. Let them play in that house all day,
let them feel the path traveled was just them, them only. Serving them dinner,
and binoculars, so they could stay by their treehouse window, gazing at the
blue horizon all day. Until the sun set. But then, soon, so very soon, he found
Naruto's eyes—like crystal mirrors—reflecting all the clouds, all the darting
birds, and he'd watch the world through Naruto.
Scarcely hears panicking. "What's wrong? Let me in!"
Finally the outburst subsides. He straightens up. However at once he faces
crimson coated hands, red rivulets streaming his fingers. As vapors rise around
like a shrouding mist, his hackles and his heart soars. Because the fresh
blood, dripping off the tips, soon's diluted by the running shower—vanishing as
if he never coughed up the blood in the first place…gone like he imagined this
all.
"Open the door!"
"I'm fine," he snaps, coarse, bristled.
"Really?"
His voice scrapes instead of booms.
"Leave me alone, moron."
The canon roars again. "But—you promise me—you're okay?"
The blood's gone, he really imagined it all. And if it's real—if— then just a
scratched throat, that's all. There was nothing now.
"Just go, Naruto."
As he steps out the washroom, he dresses to full uniform, to which he looks for
his tie. However the very moment he's fixing it round his collar, the scent of
fire wafts from the kitchen like a distress signal.
Heart drops like a brick, stubbing his own feet. And he cringes.
"What the hell—what happened here?"
Some of the gusto of his own voice disappears. Into this thick smoke…
…kitchen's a mess. Eyes dart from ransacked pantries, to the jagged eggshells
scattered over the floor, and to the splattered ooze, dripping. From the
counter edges, dripping everywhere. Dripping. He freezes to the sound, how
liquid patters to the floor. No fire in sight though, except smoke and heavy
burnt smells wafting. Vaguely, he recalls this is his house. Their home.
Naruto stands in the midst of this desecrated field, flourishing a skillet.
Waving burned hands and blackened sleeves, smiles so absurdly as if no terror
has befallen. As if this was nothing.
"Hey S'uke. Guess what?"
Heart's racing, Sasuke bolts to his side. Carefully examines the red, injured
fingers. But before he could demand for an explanation, Naruto wiggles away and
points to a dish yonder. On the low table.
"Made us breakfast. Look."
How? Doesn't turn. Floating, how could this be. He's drifting into and facing
the worlds of ignorance.
"For one minute, I turn my back and you almost burn the house down?"
"It wasn't one minute, okay? It was fourteen and something!" But then realizing
he erred, he quickly adds, "Sasuke I just wanted to surprise you."
Broken film, upwards and only up. Nothing's still, the air trembles. Undulates.
At the tunnel's end of his vision is Naruto's charred hands, crisped, eaten at
the flesh. Then in frightful contrast was the fathom-wide smile—Naruto's
grin—jeering and almost mocking like the pitter patter of the ooze. Dripping.
Game, another game.
"Enough with the surprises already! Just look what you've done, what disaster
you can manage to pull off without me around to protect you."
He turns a full circle, massaging his burning face from the simmer. The floor
whirls. Hard and deep, he rubs beating temples and yet still, the dirt, the
burned hands, and the thick pall of smoke overtakes. He shuts his eyes, trying
to relax his mind, to think straight, and the riptide of anger tore him away
from that path.
He explodes again, through clenched teeth.
"You go behind my back and pull off these ridiculous stunts all the time."
Clay shell crushes…the grin's shattering piece by piece. "Don't be upset. I'll
clean everything up, I swear."
Suddenly the smoke alarm goes off, blaring in strident cries.
Naruto quails, covering his ears from the screeching alarm. "Turn it off,
c'mon!"
He spins in chaos. The nearest wall. His fist pounds against the refrigerator
like a gavel hitting a verdict. At the shocking impact, some of Naruto's taped
drawings feather to the floor. Escaping. With it, his breath. Dancing in the
smoke, the leaflets of gold clatters to his feet: presents bejeweled, glaring
through the smoke like lighthouses.
Bending low, he stoops to his knees. Groping, searching until he feels a pulse
of life, and then his fingers coil over the papers.
As the beast continues its piercing cries, Sasuke fastens the drawings back.
They don't stick.
"Sasuke…the alarm, what about the alarm," urges Naruto, scampering to him.
He presses and presses, but there's no adhesion.
"Get the tape, Naruto, hurry," he says breathlessly.
"But the alarm—"
"Get the tape I said!"
Panicking, Naruto runs here and there, only to come forth empty handed.
"We don't have any. We ran out."
He stares at the dewy expression, forgetting what it is they ran out on. What
he's doing, even. For the magnificent passion overwhelming him a second ago,
wanes and becomes smothered.
"I can't reach the detector—I can't turn it off," says Naruto, "only you can."
He rushes past and mounts a stool. The screeching animal plastered on the
ceiling's now caged in his hands; and with fingers atremble, he paunches, guts
it, throwing its innards in the wastebasket. Wild thrills runs through and
through, he can't tear away with the strident sound continuing like an after
image. Until he hears a plop behind him.
Sasuke whips back to see Naruto on his bum, looking up with sorry eyes. Like a
frightened kitten with flattened ears, he's never seen this before.
"I didn't mean to. Really didn't!"
In a breath, he scoops his brother from cold mess of the floor. Firmly gripping
the limp shoulders, he keeps Naruto steady. The shutter in his mind flickers,
again. What was it, he was mad for? That he was going to say?
His floundering pause is misinterpreted as grave sobriety.
"Just wanted to help!" roars Naruto like a wounded lion.
Seeing the burns on Naruto's hands, he remembers again.
"I can't leave you alone, can I?"
Naruto's eyes flash. "Well I don't care what you say. Because you
don't mean it."
His own eyes simmer with anger, challenging Naruto on the dare. And that's when
haunting cadences pierce him, a ghost's hands on his neck.
Itachi was behind him. Frowning. "Why won't you call me? I can help you."
His grip's shaking. One moment he ignores the voices. And in the next, he
acknowledges, even answers it.
"This is your fault. All your fault. I don't need your help," he tells Itachi
offhandedly. Even glancing to his side…seeing nothing, and nobody.
But Naruto mistakes the remark for him. And his kid brother's wilting like a
dying plant in his arms.
"Sasuke? I'd never…I promise I won't…"
He freezes up. "Naruto I didn't mean that —"
As if escaping a poacher's trap, Naruto scrambles away¸ diving for the
bathroom. But just before the door's slammed shut, Sasuke puts out a foot and
pries open the entryway. Once inside, he closes the distance while his kid
brother backs up in obvious despair.
Fur raising, Naruto barks like an injured puppy with nothing left to lose.
"Well I don't care! Say whatever you want but I'm not gonna sit around—and let
you do everything."
Until he towers over Naruto, who steps back even further.
"Just know this, jerk. I'm sorry that I ruined the kitchen. But I'm not sorry I
tried. I'm not—"
"Your hands. Give them to me."
Naruto gulps before obeying with reluctance.
When Sasuke holds, when he fixates and lifts the injury to his lips, a low
rumble rises from the pits of his hell. Embers of pain roils up each vertebrae,
then into his fingers. Through the invisible bridge of their contact, the burns
become his own. Pulsing to touch, every breath, he flips the hands over, flicks
across Naruto's soft palms. The pain becoming his own.
"I made you sick this morning, didn't I?" blunders Naruto, wincing. "And…and
I'm annoying you…aren't I?
Not even realizing he's kissing the wounds, instincts taking over, possessing,
while he runs a trail of his lips across the charred flesh—scarcely aware,
until the sharp taste combines with Naruto's pained tone, hefty with burden.
"You've always annoyed me, moron. That's never going to change."
After retrieving the first aid kit, he rubs in a balm and bandages the
blistering fingers; this earns a couple hisses from his kid brother. But as
tenderly as he could, he patches all the injury. He avoids the glimmering eyes,
shining at him with affection. And after bandaging a throbbing thumb, he looks
up. Suppresses a grimace, when finally confronting the mushy, teary eyed
Naruto.
Sniffling, Naruto rubs at his nose. "These burns don't hurt really. Not like it
hurt to see you run away from me. And'm'sorry for ruining...everything…the
school…even our own house…"
He sighs, a tension pooling in his jaw. "I need to explain myself."
Twitching in anxiety, Naruto clenches his fists, small mouth wavering in a
forced scowl.
"What…jerk?"
"I need to be clear with you. Do not worry about my social life, don't cook,
don't do anything stupid," he says. "In the end, you don't understand me."
Seizing up wholly, Naruto's eyes flare.
"How could you say that to me. I do understand, don't brush me off. Let me
help."
In that moment, he releases. "You're not ready."
Like some call to arms, Naruto hugs his legs—clinching them together.
"I am ready. I'm always ready. Believe me."
A need. No. Many needs course through him; some instinct, chief of them all,
pleads from the depths, to the surface. Resonating need, stuttering his
breaths. To feel again, dive deep, and stay. And he couldn't leave. Not when
the twinkle of adoration, like constellations, lights up in Naruto. The light
which turns all his shadows away.
And he stoops low, picks up Naruto, and bends him over the bathtub's edge.
"What—hey are you—Sasuke?"
Leaning over the small form, he presses dainty shoulders against the curved
wall. And he brushes over the shell of Naruto's ear.
"You wanted to continue our game," he explains.
Instantly, a flash of happiness flickers in Naruto's widening eyes. But before
a delightful twitter could escape the perfect lips, Sasuke snatches tighter.
"But you're my prisoner now. No more fighting." He lowers his voice. "Give up
acting like some hero. Surrender or face due punishment."
Playing along, Naruto squirms in his grip. "Never. I'll never give up!"
His next words are like heated strokes and at once Naruto shivers.
"Challenging an S-rank criminal?"
Intense concentration passes over the knitting blond brows.
"I'll never surrender. Not until I bring you back to the village. So go ahead
punish me!"
This is his kid brother's staple kink. Games of 'pretend', playing cops and
robbers, chasing, and catching: Naruto's favorite quirk, fascination.
"You've no idea what you're asking for."
"I can take anything," comes the growl.
Still holding Naruto, he lowers a hand to lift the hems, uncovering a flat,
narrow stomach. Unblemished, and soft. Running his fingers across, earns him a
whimper.
"Not that! Not motorboat-no-jutsu— I can't." Naruto throws his head back in
ill-restrained laughter, when the tickling escalates. "I can't! Time-out!"
"You said you could take anything."
"I can," is the shaky agreement, "but…this is worse than your chidori—"
"Static electricity, Naruto, wouldn't be sufficient punishment for your
behavior today."
Grin's wiped away in place of deep contemplation.
"Fine. You're getting revenge, okay? Then I'll escape and you hafta
be my prisoner." Tremors of excitement, as Naruto commences a new song of
declaration. "Because I never forgave you for trying to leave me. Time…time-
in!"
Intently, he watches Naruto's eyes crease in pleasure. As if they'd really
transported to another realm under their control.
"Do your worst!" is the demand.
He never removes his attention from the expectant gaze. How Naruto forces down
the grin, secretly enjoying…no, not secretly, always. As Sasuke runs his touch,
pours his heart through a single caress, he sees Naruto bite a trembling lip. A
slow painful pace, as his fingertips hover along the curve, like feathers
scarcely grazing. Has Naruto giggling, yet still blond brows knit in mock
charades—still pretending to be a prisoner. And the hip bone, in partial
exposure, attracts his ghosting hand and he traces over it slowly. As if he
admires a sculpture, every line, every inch so perfect. Immediately Naruto
shivers from head to toe, arching away as much as possible until exploding in
laughter.
Because the whole while, he watches the happiness evolving in Naruto, hears the
giggles, feels the air tremble at the ruckus like butterflies erupting in a
swarm around him; splotches, colors, soaring from all directions. Happiness so
deceivingly shallow, when it was too deep for him to wade in. Too deep and too
drowning. And he forgets he's tickling, forgets his fingers travel in
admiration, fondling and petting.
Until lithe legs kick up at him, batting so desperately for freedom as Naruto
wails, "Please! I want Sasuke back, please."
"You want who?"
Flushing, Naruto screws his eyes shut in embarrassment. "I want Sasuke!"
He releases immediately. His smirk returns as Naruto sits up, cheeks reddening
with vulnerability.
"What happened to saying time-out, dummy?"
"Exactly. You weren't supposed to stop unless I said time-out—you just got
tricked," explains Naruto. "Now on your knees! You're under arrest!"
"Then who is going to take you to school?"
Flustered, the ninja hand signs dissipates into a flurry of apologetic hand
gestures. "Heh, you really are the smartest guy I know."
But before he could get another word out, Naruto throws skinny arms round his
neck. After a frozen instant, he relaxes in their embrace. He could melt into
this soft cloud all day. Until puckered lips attack his cheeks, Naruto leaves
trails of dribble along his face, then hovers inches away from his own mouth.
"No," he says. Though his body protests, never breaking position.
"No what?"
The question rings, echoes. Ripples through his flesh and hair rises all
throughout; what was he fighting? What's so different now? A voice with a sour,
bitter octave tells him to proceed. To do as he pleases. Obscurity like dark
vapors cloud his vision; and yet, the vivid sensations of killing the alarm
feels fresh on his hands. He stares at his fingers as though blood drips from
them only for the steam to wash it away.
Grimaces, words like thorns on his tongue. Pricking.
"No, we can't."
Naruto leans up anyway, to connect their lips like so often before. Perhaps
wanting even more. Testing the depth, mimicking Sasuke's slipup from earlier,
pushing the frontiers further. However at the final moment, the twinkle of
adoration glares so powerfully. Turning away all his shadows, and casting the
dark and doubt behind. Sasuke bolts back.
At the harsh, even abrupt manner of disconnect…Naruto's whirling in a tornado
of pain and confusion.
"Why?"
The contrite expression demands like powerful beams. Through his very flesh and
bones.
"Because I'm your brother."
He turns to leave, however Naruto lashes out, grabbing a fistful of his school
uniform.
"I know. So?"
"That's it. I don't need to give you a deeper explanation."
Naruto stumbles forward. "But why not!"
From his peripheries, Sasuke catches sight of the forsaken papers scattered in
their hall and kitchen. The presents from his kid brother, he needs to restore
them to the proper canvas.
"Let go." When Naruto's hold weakens, he shakes it off. "And get dressed, we're
leaving."
"That's not fair. That's not fair if you don't say why!"
As Naruto stomps in punctuation, Sasuke collects all the leaflets off the
floor, all these tokens of affection, and sets them on the stand by the door.
Then donning his navy trench coat, he spares a glance to meet the lion-hearted
scowl.
"I said why. You're just choosing not to accept it."
Whatever comeback's boiling to surface, dies, as Naruto even tips forward,
swallowing the hefty retort.
"Now get dressed. I'm waiting. And when we come home later, we're cleaning this
all up."
Naruto glares off to the side. They don't hold hands, and they don't talk.
While as loud and boisterous public transportation is, they're quieter than
ever. He breathes calmly while Naruto's huffs out steam with each exhale. And
at their stop, Sasuke leads them to the front gates of the school where all the
parents detach from children. Buzzing circles of kids shorter and taller than
Naruto, all being dropped off.
Usually they part on warmer terms, but Naruto stomps ahead of him.
He holds out some dough. "Take your lunch money."
"I don't want that."
Swiftly, he catches Naruto by the ear. He smirks when Naruto sputters, blushes,
and then wiggles free.
"Take it. Now."
As if humiliated, Naruto angrily pockets the money and jerks the backpack from
Sasuke's hand. Straps it on before torpedoing off into the front doors. And
from the distance, he sees Gaara steal Naruto into a weird handshake greeting,
into those sallow halls. His smile falls. This image he couldn't shake off for
the rest of the day.
.
...
.
After classes and work, Sasuke finds himself swept in the same crowd full of
parents waiting to pick up their children. And he's muting everyone out. The
shimmering bubbles coalescing around—families in their soaring, ethereal
life—he's here, on the pavement, he couldn't soar. And he glares to the doubled
doors.
"Excuse me, young man," quips a woman, even wagging her fingers. Her scanty
braids framing a gaunt face. "What do you think you're doing?"
Sasuke freezes. The cigarette in his mouth, halting. Crisping.
"Don't you know this isn't the place?"
How could he? How could he…he immediately flicks it to the ground, by the
rusting fire hydrant. Stomping it to ashes and it dirties the snow. Gasps sound
like hisses. The lady, she hisses practically over his shoulder—and the thin
film of white beneath their feet, is greyed and sullied, the ashes burning
holes. Red then smothering into black.
He looks up to her nonchalantly.
"You're right," he tells her.
The wrinkles round her narrowing gaze, burgeon. And the woman gives him the
funny eye, expecting him to leave.
"This isn't some hangout—chill spot," she says primly.
"I'm picking up my brother."
Yet her eyes simmer in suspicion, as if he's some criminal. As if he doesn't
belong. And he really believes it for a second.
But just then, despite standing dead center in a whirlpool of frantic mothers,
Naruto immediately catches sight. And he loses interest in her, and she in him,
for she's reunited with her kid.
He'll immerse with Naruto, numb the pain. Yet instead of their normal, warm
greeting of a hug or pounce, Naruto offers nothing. The usual beatific cherub —
now a barren portrait. Unearthly. Especially as Sasuke reaches to connect their
hands as per habit, only for Naruto to swing away.
Heart racing, he follows closely. "Did something happen?"
His kid brother stares straight ahead.
The silent treatment. The one weapon Naruto's never used against him.
"Naruto. Talk to me."
Not even a peep, or a scoff. Gait, expression…all robotic….
"So you won't acknowledge me?"
…it fucking hurt. His fists tighten. "Because of this morning?"
There it was. Naruto's holding in a breath. It was a bullseye.
And he's onto the game quickly. He's onto it. Pretend. A game. Just a passing
phase. All this rushes through him, so what the fuck was he feeling afraid for.
Over a simple imitation like this. That his walls are disintegrating, and his
voice cracks. That his heart jumps to a flutter like a billowing flag, having
to endure indifference from Naruto. And the smoke from this morning returns,
the smoke of destruction deep inside. Feels blood pooling, and cold sweat
dampening.
And saving himself, Sasuke snatches the dainty wrist; a lifeline from falling.
It was snapping the very first moment.
"Let me carry your bag," he offers.
However, Naruto buzzes forward shaking off their contact as if it was some base
animal.
He feels his eyes widen and widen more: fixated and struck at how quickly
Naruto runs away. From him. How the distance between them stretches, a
nightmare, watching the silhouette detach from him—like the very action defies
natural laws.
"Naruto!" he shouts. "Stop! Get back here!"
To the panicky beats of city horns, he rushes after Naruto. Heat climbs his
throat as he swallows down the cyclones of smoke, the taste of it, settling
like dirty film in his lungs. Volcanic ash, rapid ascension. Burning,
incinerating. And the speed of his chase produces no wind, nothing's clearing
up, Naruto's moving farther and farther, and he can't see, can't catch up.
"Narut—" he couldn't finish.
Sometime during his coughing fit, Naruto teleports to his side. His kid brother
seizes him wholly by the arm, concern and worry dancing across what moments ago
was an expressionless face; and like electricity, a pulse of awakening lances
through.
"You said…you promised me you were okay."
He couldn't stop himself. "Tell me what's with you. Failed another test? Upset
your teachers again? Just tell me."
At the last tidbit, Naruto's eyes darken to deep cobalt blue.
And when Naruto shifts to pull back, Sasuke wraps a hand over his brother's
curled fist. Grips tightly. Noticing right away how warm and clammy Naruto
feels to the touch, but dismisses this as a sign of anxiety and agitation.
"Answer me."
"No. I don't wanna talk."
Losing patience, he pries Naruto's clenched fist open, straightening out the
taut palm until finally weaving their fingers together.
"Fine," he grits out. "But you're not allowed to run ahead of me, understood?"
"Fine."
"Fine," he repeats, glaring. Waiting.
Naruto scoffs, feigning more nonchalance. Though the evident crack to the
charade, Sasuke notices, was a trembling blond brow, and the concern from
earlier still branded in the skies like stars shimmering, flashing. Never truly
disappearing. The indifference was just pretend.
In this ice-cold silent treatment, he has them shop for groceries. They pass
the usual temptations of junk food, but not one request's made. And when he's
picking out produce, Naruto crosses his arms, anchoring close to him instead of
running around in mischief. Usually by now a store manager would ask them to
leave, either because Naruto's knocked down aisles of canned food, or wandered
into the butcher's quarters because the men in white coats looked suspect.
Now, they wait in quiet on the checkout line.
"Oi. Sasuke."
Startled, he turns a strained gaze to his kid brother. And at once, notices
Naruto holding up masking tape.
How could he forget?
Returning home, they hold hands again, facing the desecrated kitchen together.
The first matter, the first priority…Sasuke unsheathes and unpackages the tape
from the bags. He re-attaches all of Naruto's keepsakes to him. With such care,
with such precision, one would think he's handling fragile glass.
Jealous of the attention these drawings were getting, Naruto grumbles. At first
incoherent, but then loud and frustrated.
"Why is that so important?"
Sasuke bites off one last strip of tape, before plastering the final artwork.
"Four years ago I lost everything. This is all I have…."
Immediately Naruto averts his gaze, and swallows thickly.
"…and when I look at this, I don't feel alone anymore."
Now, the fridge stands like some trophy showcase. A montage of Naruto's
presents: from stick figures, to wiggly line arts of them together, to notes
and letters, all side by side, and you could see the growth. Sentences of
'Sasuke and Me' to 'He's the fire and I'm the wind', and blueprints of their
dream home. They would sit on a hill and imagine how they'd map out their
island, recreate the one drowned in the dark storm.
But here they were, scrubbing the floors, their backs facing each other. Fumes
of Clorox fills the room. While the pish posh noises of their sponges talks to
each other, communicating.
"I'm supposed to meet my professor today." He wets the sponge before
continuing. "In a few hours I'll need to stop by her apartment. I won't be
long, just twenty minutes."
Hears Naruto come to a stop. "Why?"
"For a project."
"Is she your friend?"
He glances over his shoulder to see Naruto's hopeful eyes, the forever cock-
eyed optimist. He was going to say no, but the very gleam in the wavering blue,
pleading…why does Naruto care so much? Annoyed, he lets out a gruff sound,
focusing back on the chore.
"Listen I need to know. Can you handle twenty minutes alone?"
Startled, Naruto perks up like a sentry finally seeing the danger on the
horizon.
"Wait a sec! You're leaving me here? By yourself? Without me?"
"Like I said dobe, it's for a half hour. Just as last time. If you can't handle
it…I'll call her and cancel."
He hears Naruto scoff and scrub again.
"Course I can handle anything, jerk. I'll just watch the 'Gutsy Ninja' without
you. Your loss."
Putting elbow grease, they up the ante. Stains vanish, erase from existence,
and you would've never guessed there was destruction in this house. He unfolds
from the floor, with shooting pride that they restored everything as was. With
Naruto's help, he prepares their meal in the clean, in the orderly, in the glow
of restoration.
"Pass the peeler," he demands.
As if passing the scalpel, and not a sous chef but an assistant surgeon, Naruto
hands it over.
"What else?" Naruto asks in wallowing excitement. "Can I actually cut too?"
The desperation to help is an intense melody, distorts his focus. So he
delegates another simple instruction.
"Just go in the other room and do your homework."
That's when Naruto flails in the usual dance of whining.
"But you ripped up my homework and I'm not doing it again!"
He momentarily pauses, catching sight of the typical, lion-hearted scowl.
"You think I'd let you hand in such embarrassing work? You could do better."
"Of course I can!" Naruto crosses his arms, pursing lips.
"So go and get it right, dummy."
The challenge's set. Naruto raises up fists in determination. "Alright. You'll
see, it'll be so neat and amazing…you're gonna cry from how beautiful it is.
Watch!"
Left to his own devices, Sasuke finishes cleaning off the skins before plopping
them into bubbling broth. Naruto will thank him later, for pushing the limits.
Who else will?
Flies flit. Sasuke swats the air, but they're persistent, evading. So he sets
the knife down and concentrates on catching the flickers, only for them to
speed up, and multiply. Multiplying like bacteria. Flies in his kitchen:
harassing and vile. He swats again and again.
A dizzying spell seizes him and he clutches the counter. Chasing for breath, he
hears himself pant, and screws his eyes shut…turbulence, won't pass. Worsens.
When he cracks eyes open, he sees armies of flies eating his flanks, his whole
periphery, devoured by bacteria.
Sinks to the floor. Should sit. Blood pressure's dropping.
"Oi, Sasuke!" calls Naruto from the other room. "Can you check if this looks
good to you?"
Panic grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him. Couldn't get a hold—the
world's tumbling. And distantly, he hears Itachi assure.
"Stay still, catch your breath." Itachi kneels beside. "Think. What is it? Do
we need an ambulance?"
"I don't know," he croaks out.
Toppling, Sasuke falls forward. Buildings crashing, booms and booms, but it's
just his heart. Thrumming in his ears.
"—Sasuke, I'm here! Say something!"
Naruto pushes with all his might, just to turn him over. To set the rubble
aright, to fix him. And when the task's successful, he rests on his side,
facing the stricken expression.
"Don't just lie there." Itachi demands, sitting nearby. "Tell him what to do.
Let Naruto help you."
At that, Sasuke rouses. "He can't help."
"I can!" Naruto squeezes him, eyes flashing.
As the mirages worsen, he feels his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.
Nonetheless, the voice, Itachi's perfectly tranquil, rationale, eats at his
panic, and while his heart's aflutter, he breathes…the nausea waning.
Some point in time, he understands the pillow underneath his head…to be
Naruto's lap. They're still in the kitchen.
And between dizzying blinks, he stares up. To the ceiling, gazing up at the
blank expanse. Except for one blemish. A small dark circle branded in vivid
contrast—where the alarm used to sit—like a trail of ashes, its dirty glue left
behind as a graveyard. A scar.
"I'll call the doctors, I'll carry you there—"
He's aching to erase it. Longing for perfection. Because it was really
perfect—the ceiling, all around, white, smooth: all except for that vile
branding. Like a mark of fucking Cain, glaring down at him. He struggles to sit
up only for an avalanche to crash into his gut, and he clenches in the nausea.
"Listen to me," he scarcely grits out. "No doctors."
Naruto wavers, hoarse. "But you're sick. What do you mean…"
"Get towels. Hot and cold. For my head." Erratic fragments under his breaths.
"I'll be fine."
He's not even sure how he makes it to his bed. Back crashing to the mattress,
teeth chattering. Day turning to night. The light turning to dark, and smoke
filling every space of his heart.
.
...
.
Curled in, Naruto nuzzles into Sasuke's shivering form. Fitting as close as
possible.
Countless times, he asks for Sasuke to wake up, only to be answered with tosses
and turns. The stable fortress crumbling, and Naruto clings to the quaking
frame, to still the tremulous collapse. And what's worse, whenever Sasuke falls
asleep first, or whenever Sasuke leaves for an errand, or goes to her house,
the anxiety possessing…is unbearable, and the world turns to a swirl. Naruto
clutches at his chest, as if the breaths are getting sucked out, because now
Sasuke's not really here too. And he's feeling dizzy—the edges sprinkling.
"Sasuke I swear," he growls. "I swear if you don't say something, I'm gonna
call for help. Wake up."
Meaningless murmurs. "Don't come out…you promised…"
"Don't come out from where!"
But he's answered again with meaningless murmurs. Naruto hugs tightly,
relishing the heat emanating. When he adjusts and re-cools the towel, he dabs
at the hot forehead. So hot. It was unreal.
The sound of a phone ringing, was salvation itself tearing the air.
Naruto scrambles away from Sasuke's senseless form. "I'll be right back! I
swear."
And running to follow the noise, he finds the cellphone lighting up in
excitement on the kitchen counter.
Without a second thought, he answers the call—only then to realize, this was a
mistake. This wasn't anyone he'd know…a stranger…and he was about to hang up
the line when a voice cries out through the speakers.
"Sasuke? Where are you?"
Naruto freezes. A lady?
"Hello?" he stammers back. "Are you—you're Sasuke's sensei!"
There's a deliberate pause on the other end. "Yes. Who is this? Pass the phone
to—"
"My name's Naruto," he bursts with sudden excitement, "and you're his friend,
right?"
Another deliberate pause.
Naruto swells with hope, to have someone listen. "He's really sick right now.
He can't talk and—"
"Where?"
 
***** Fever *****
Chapter Summary
     …dark fire consumes. Raging furiously between the vaults and
     uncontrollable. Shackles melt. And heat devours: free, he’s free…runs
     bidding fingers through golden hair, holding Naruto there, anchoring
     them past the point of no return.
Chapter Notes
     A/N: just returned from Florida, back in depressing NYC again. I
     think this chapter contains some hints as to how the Tsunade/Naruto
     will form for those that were wondering.
     Warnings: explicit sexual content ahead. Still on the fringe of
     changing the rating of the story...but I went ahead and upped it from
     mature to 'explicit', in case.
     Beta: GoodMorningFlower, big thanks to her amazing help and feedback.
                                       .
                                       .
                                       .
                                       .
                                         
“...if another degree higher…hospital…”
 
“But he said no doctors!”
 
Noises. Thumping noises. Of footsteps like dancers whirling. Metallic noises,
of pans and silverware raining down the counter. Sheets shuffle, springs
creaking. Water glugging like waterfalls, like echoes from within the caverns.
 
“Hold his head.”
 
“What’s that?”
 
“Medicines…keep him up…”
 
“No.” Growls. Baby cubs—purrs of defensiveness. “I’ll eat it first…make
sure…not poison…”
 
“It’s not poison! It’s not! Don’t be a stupid kid!”
 
Hands. One, then three, and more, strumming a confident melody up and down his
skin. Touches so cold and damp. The sheets, hot.
 
                                        
...
 
 
“Help me…off his shirt…”
 
“Gross. Sweaty Sasuke!”
 
“Horrid boy! This is good…go…fetch a clean one…”
 
Toppling up like coins in the air, tossing as atoms dividing and dividing.
Atoms: millions wiggling. They bond…always bonding, and breaking, and bonding
again. World floats and hovers, only to crash back down. Winded, slipping out
again.
 
 
...
 
 
“What happened…parents?”
 
Voices. Carrying over like trains roaring at night. Intense one second, muffled
the next. Then trains in tunnels. Muffled, then intense. Tunnels, then out,
tunnels, then out again.
 
“They’re…”
 
Pale light from the lamp, seeps into his eyes like diluted liquid gold. Every
blink is a wince into his bones, and blurs chase to the edges of his vision.
 
“…dead…”
 
Arms dip heavily at his sides like unmovable rocks.
 
Stop Naruto. He shakes, wills to stand, only for fingers to twitch.
 
“When?” Sakura’s voice. “How?”
 
“I was two. I don’t remember. But they were…”
 
Sasuke reaches for the glass on the nightstand. Twitches evolve into one fluid
motion.
 
“Older brother…don’t know…dead…”
 
Her tone’s of a person inches away from the treasure. “How?” she repeats.
 
“…tried to hurt…we…almost…”
 
The glass in his hands fires off like a missile. Crashes. Breaks. He pants
hearing the sounds of rushing footsteps from the other rooms, padding so
urgently, so suddenly.
 
“Sasuke!”
 
Her. Leaning over him, her rosy hairs grazing his forehead. Her poignant
perfume stabbing, mawkish, and her fingers on his face. She strokes him:
gentle.
 
“Get out.”
 
Scarcely hears Naruto gasp, and Sakura’s heart thudding violently. The clamor’s
unbearable.
 
“What?”
 
“Get out of my house Sakura.”
 
She pushes him down. With her splayed hands connecting to his aching shoulders,
forces him to lie down, forces him to bend his back…again…again…again…
 
“…you need to…”
 
Naruto has to see this. The widening gaze burns holes into his flesh and bones,
fixating at him like before, like always.
 
“…rest,” she says.
 
Failed. The island. Supposed to be theirs, guarded from intruders, and he
couldn’t protect.
 
“Right Naruto?”
 
Her smile cracks like the dawn. Especially when her rally wins, and Naruto’s
distant voice reaches with affirmation.
 
Cracks him. And he deflects her hands away, flicking off her touch.
 
“Leave.”
 
A bolt flashes in her evergreen eyes. Deep sucks of her breath, honing in all
the steam of passion. He could taste the brew of her simmering like spattering
rain. She glances appraisingly at the charming audience—the innocent blond
cherub eyeing her with admiration—and she unconsciously fixes her ruffled
blouse. With an exhale, she floats back.
 
“I will,” she tells him.
 
However, Sakura wins herself a knight in armor, as Naruto intervenes, jumping
in with arms spread.
 
“Sasuke you jerk, she helped, she helped you—”
 
Air vacuums out, he turns in a daze…especially when she ruffles Naruto’s hair.
And that Naruto’s leaning into her caresses—
 
“That’s quite alright, Naruto. Thank you.”
 
Anger’s sublime, transient, the alarm’s dead, the smoke’s risen and dissipated.
There was nothing left now. Nothing left to warn him; and she’s still smiling.
Jeeringly.
 
“Please don’t leave us. Can’t you stay?”
 
And he feels dizzy. Watching Naruto hug her sleek legs, like she was a saint.
Only for her to collect interest later. And nausea, an intangible kind, roils
his light head and struggling lungs—he clenches his fists. He wasn’t guilty,
and she wasn’t innocent. Almost does he yell for the curtains to raise, for the
show to stop. But she’s laughing…waiting for him to break…
 
“No, no. That would be up to Sasuke. After all, he’s in charge. You’ll have to
keep taking care of him.”
 
“But if you want, you can sleep in my bed, Sakura-chan. I can stay on the
couch!”
 
Still ruffling the shock of blond, Sakura shoots a smirk up at Sasuke.
 
“What an offer. I mean we certainly bonded these last hours,” she says, voice
thick and sour like cherry syrup. “But thank you. I’ll decline.”
 
Now, Naruto turns on him angrily. “See? See what you did!”
 
His head inclines forward, feeling his world dangling.  Why would she help. Why
would she….
 
“Well, I’ll be off. Promise me you’ll take Sasuke to the doctor?” When Naruto
vigorously nods, Sakura smiles again. “Good. Walk me out, Naruto.”
 
“Of course!”
 
No. Sasuke swings off the bed, clutching the wall for support. Heads turn to
face him, and he faces back. Staring into her, searching them for mendacity,
and daring her to move another inch. Daring her to continue.
 
At their grating clash, she raises her manicured hands to her lips in a worried
gasp.
 
“Try to stay in bed, Sasuke. You’re not well…”
 
“You want to be walked out?” He pushes past his brother, the dizzy spells
bearing down. “I’ll gladly help.”
 
A shadow hovers over her arched brow. “Have some respect.”
 
“Let me escort you out my house, professor.”
 
The cloud on her expression thickens, and darkens. She’s not smiling anymore.
 
“Take the week off. I don’t want to see you until you’ve fully recovered.” She
inclines her head as if in thought. “And please visit a doctor. I already
recommended to Naruto a physician nearby, you should visit.”
 
He restrains the urge to push her out. Before she’ll suck him dry, before she
can see him collapse again. Before he falls to his descent, deeper and more
jagged than rock-bottom, like gables of cold stone distorting the spine. In his
destruction, she’ll run to make a profit of the upbuild. But there’s no
upbuild. Only destruction, and a trail of smoke, and she’s inhaling it like her
cigarette, like his vulnerability’s intoxicating.
 
And as she paces in front of him, putting a show of elegance and nymph’s grace,
she glances at him.
 
“When you return, I should want to give you the news.”
 
This stops him from slamming the door in her face. Stops him lamely, in his
track.
 
“What news?”
 
She walks backward, putting more distance, floating away from him in the
corridor. He’s not sure…if he’s hallucinating. Her voice reverbs, tunes the air
into a haunting melody, and the building feels abandoned. Feels hollow.
 
“When you return to me. I have some matter to discuss with you.”
 
Gripping the frame for support, he levels a steady gaze. Although his lids
droop in exhaustion, and she’s gone into the elevators when he’s sinking to the
floors again.
 
 
…
 
 
He visits a doctor the following morning, paying bills he couldn’t afford. But
the pneumonia was serious, and Naruto was on the verge of a panic attack.
Actually crying and trying to hide it too. And he paid for the tears to
cease…with a credit card.
 
It was a waste of dough. Antibiotics, and some bupkis advice to stay and rest
for a week. He would have recovered all the same. But Naruto acts like he was
breaking a lifetime promise, by refusing medical treatment. Even threatening,
should he die, Naruto would follow him…and Sasuke shivers and shrugs the
declaration off as some joke.
 
He’s missing school, and so very weak in bed. Very frail. Naruto even plays
house maid, and he shamefully likes it. His kid brother dusting the nightstand,
and changing the sheets—couldn’t cook though, but would boil instant ramen, and
spoon feed him. With chopsticks. Gently and slowly. The flavors taste bland,
like salt and water, yet Naruto would smile so stupidly with affection, his
mouth salivates.
 
“Yum! Bon appetite,” cheers his kid brother, “my favorite flavor.”
 
Halfway through this romantic session of Naruto plopping noodles into his
mouth, Sasuke turns away.
 
“But Sasuke, you didn’t finish.”
 
His own voice’s muffled by pillows. “You need to go to school. Tomorrow.”
 
“No. I won’t leave you.”
 
“You can’t miss a whole week. Too many absent days.”
 
Naruto’s growling. “I hate school. I hate it! I wanna be with you. I wanna take
care of you.”
 
“Don’t use that word. Doesn’t sound right on you.”
 
“What word!”
 
“Hate.”
 
Naruto makes a sucking noise in mocking.
 
“But you hate everything. Why can’t I hate everything too?”
 
“Exactly. Let me be the one who hates for the both of us. You stay out of the
hate business.”
 
Laughter like chirping birds fills the air as Naruto massages him. “You’re so
funny Sasuke!”
 
His face is forced deeper into the pillow as Naruto’s little hands knead into
him. Yet still, he voices.
 
“I never want you misusing that word again. Hate. You don’t even understand
what it means.”
 
Naruto stops with his ministrations. Sounding very strained. “Okay S’uke,
you’re sick right now. Don’t wanna fight…I’ll do whatever you say.”
 
Slurping sounds fill the room as Naruto devours the unfinished ramen noodles.
Sasuke falls asleep to the sound of it. Feeling so very content. Like he was
sitting by the fire in the coziest home fathomable, and he felt so very safe
and warm. The cackling and lapping of the kindles as Naruto talks and talks. As
Naruto purrs and embraces him. The content rumbles transmit. He felt himself to
be in one of the most perfect movies, a scene he always wished to be a part of:
the iconic hearth of a home.
 
Sleeping…until waking up in another world.
 
Because as if by dream, Naruto rolls over, mounting him. Their bodies lying
flush against each other. Vaguely, he feels the blankets being pulled down.
 
“You’re sweating, S’uke.”
 
He cracks an eye open, but his lids are so heavy. And the fever’s ascending,
again.
 
“Let me sleep, moron.” His voice, husky with exhaustion.
 
Through eyes half-mast, he sees Naruto unflinching. Unflinching…and coldly
stone-walling. Banners of wild resolve billow in the blue gaze.
 
“But you should take this shirt off,” sly undertones, diluted with chuckles.
“So sweaty…so gross...”
 
He’s about to fire off, but Naruto pulls down the blankets all the way. Then
starts to jerk at the hems of his perspired shirt, yanking it up with such a
passion. Admittedly the cloth clings, very damp, much like a tainted
straitjacket. And he lets Naruto undress him. Feeling dizzy, when his kid
brother has him sit up for a moment, finally freeing him of this wet rag.
 
And just as he lies back down onto the couch pillows, Naruto straddles him
again.
 
“Now how do you feel? Hm, hm?”
 
If only the dizzying, the whirling of the world—would stop, would quit him.
Sasuke scarcely catches his breath.
 
“Like hell,” he says. “Get off me.”
 
Instead of obeying, Naruto wiggles his hips. Creating friction. Like hot wires
to his nerve ends, snapping, tearing: electricity inside his bones, and he
stiffens.
 
“Naruto…” he throws his head back, murmuring. “What are you doing…”
 
“Distractin you.”
 
“Enough with—”
 
But Naruto swoops like a swift bird, stealing their lips together.
 
Muscles in his jaw spring to life, twitching, and his hands. Where are his
hands? They felt…like two balloons, he couldn’t really feel. Only his dry,
painfully chapped lips against puckered, supple ones. And he groans, at the
glaze being smeared over his mouth—he couldn’t rip away—like some sweet
frosting. Soothing. Naruto’s lips. It was so good, and he was so sure…
  
The alarm. Time to wake up—was he—
 
Squirming, Sasuke angles his face away, to break apart. The alarm, he needs to
shut it off. Wake up. But his hands floating at his sides—inflating, filling
with air…he couldn’t lift up, even.
 
“You taste blah,” says Naruto, lapping at his cheeks.
 
Hackles rise. The both of them. Especially as Naruto nips across his jawline,
in a drawl.
 
“I said get off me.”
 
The torrenting air in his arms, travels to his throat. Words leaves like winds,
a vacuum: rendering him weak, powerless.
 
“Wicko good, you taste.” Naruto’s tongue runs more wildly. “I wonder…”
 
He winces. The sparks along his flesh, when Naruto strokes his sides, when he
feels soft fingers drifting in curiosity. And a small mouth hovers over his
tautening abs, every breath, every hot puff provoking the blood inside him. He
doesn’t want this. He doesn’t. Shivering as bruises form. As Naruto nibbles
across his damp, heated chest, circling around, capturing runnels of sweat
between teeth. The teeth, they scrape and tickle. Excavating and tasting, so
full of desire: and it transmits. Especially when Naruto lets his canines graze
over the glistening expanse, choosing where else to mark.
 
Then he catches the flash in Naruto’s eyes. Like terrifying lightning, ready to
strike.
 
“How you taste, here.”
 
Jolt after jolt…losing…kiss after kiss…
 
“And here.”
 
The flushing, the fever, he’s panting. “Naruto…stop…stop right now.”
 
Suckling the tightened nub, Naruto blinks up without word. Such clear irises of
cornflower blue, perfectly innocent, yet flickering with mischief. Until his
kid brother releases the hardened flesh from a vacuuming mouth, with a plop.
 
“Stop what?” Another bolt of lightning across the sky. “This?”
 
His knees, they jerk up in violent reflex. As soon as Naruto reclaims the
throbbing points, sweeping licks over and over like a loyal pet.
Unconditionally loving and laving him, and he arches to the attentions, the
lavish caresses, suckles, all seeping with burning ardor. Naruto devours, each
gentle sip swinging his heart like a pendulum, a harsh metronome beating in his
head. Like a storm buffeting. And he sinks into whirling madness, into dunes of
hot sand—unreal—how the fervent temperature’s eating faster at his
consciousness, faster than he can breathe out:
 
“Lower.”
 
Obeying, Naruto slides a moist trail south. Soft susurrations, escaping.
 
“Here?”
 
Lower, and lower. He’s pleading, not with words. Never with words. The ache
between his legs pulsates so heavily, he’s writhing.
 
“What about…here.”
 
Naruto’s sopping wet mouth leaves so much dribble. Tingling like frizzing
seltzer, glistening over his navel. Tremors incinerate between his vertebrae,
and he lifts up his hips. Pushing at the round bum mounted over his hardness.
Immediately earning a gasp from his kid brother, who’s gripping at his thighs.
Yet still he rocks up then down: slowly, absently, and uncontrollably. At once
he feels Naruto’s fists dig into his sides, as if not to be knocked off.
 
Ringing. Rolling like a phone call, a line. And Sasuke cracks his eyes open,
but there’s no alarm to answer. Only his racing heart, beating in excitement
and in terror at once, tearing him apart.
 
“I have this sometimes too.” Naruto pats at the clothed erection pressing up,
rock-hard. “Never lets me pee when I needa! How do you get rid of it?”
 
His head’s thrown back, missing the glazed eyes—staring at him expectantly—and
another growl escapes him.
 
“Get the hell off me.”
 
“But Sasuke—”
 
The ringing worsens. And blood’s roaring, propelled so violently in his veins
like jets. He’s about to roll off the couch to escape this mind-numbing
prison…this torture….of his coiling, needy body, being devoured by lips so
perfect. This nightmare. He reaches to spin to the floor.
 
“—you have to be my prisoner. You said.”
 
Until the patting hands of his kid brother follows a rhythm of sexual cadence.
Caressing his straining arousal in strokes, assuring and promising to please.
And he gasps agonizingly.
 
“Don’t Naruto. Don’t.”
 
“But this is what you want!”
 
The ringing blocks out his stuttering moans. They escape his swelling
lips—intensifying to quick rapid breaths. Dizzy. And his hands still floating
up, useless, as if invisible bands tied him, binding. While the melody and
sounds of his satisfaction encourages Naruto—who tugs at the bands of his
trousers.
 
“Shouldn’t I take this off?”
 
Invisible shackles, and now a gag in his throat. As if strapped to the cushions
beneath him, he wriggles to no avail, failing to cease the hands which roam.
The waistband’s lowered and the nudity hurts—his own naked, pale flesh—blooming
beneath his vision, and he forces his eyes shut. And the ringing blocks out the
words. Words Naruto’s saying, but he can’t hear. The sirens clamor, and lights:
red, orange, violet…gleaming past and tints the darkness. Rendering him damp,
icy around his frame. Only to feel Naruto’s curious fingers squeezing and
touching, brushing arrays of caresses. The anticipation kills, murders his
control—slashes at all sense, he bucks wildly. Shudders run through, barely
swallows the horrific moans, ragged gasps ripping from him instead.
 
“How about here?”
 
Soft, unbelievably soft, dainty hands wrap over him. The huskiness in Naruto’s
high-pitched voice thickens, as the strokes go from gentle, sparse, to
confident intensity. Hands he held, kissed, and protected—now roaming in the
nether regions, playing. Some game, another game. He’s letting. Letting. As
Naruto carelessly rubs a thumb over the weeping slit, relishing the reactions
from his older brother. The gaze of wavering blue flashes and widens, when his
raw moans overcomes the creaking of the couch.
 
And he chokes back the pained strident breath, threatening to escape, upon
facing the mirrors beholding him. Eternally fixating up at him, Naruto’s eyes:
showing his reflection vividly…and humiliation drills…as if the whole world
watches him succumb.
 
“You’re my prisoner now, Sasuke, remember?”
 
Flames of red devours his face, and he arches up into the fondling grasp.
Pathetic, he grinds his teeth, over the edge and pathetically needing more. 
 
“Just stop…stop…”
 
Even as he pleads through the wound in his chest, pain possessing and
hurting—he spreads his knees apart. Sensations strong, near demonic and
savage—smoke thick, can’t think, and he thrusts up: again and again. And to
appease his frantic urgency, Naruto lowers wholly.  
 
Lips, like soft flush petals, falls to his aching need. Lapping unsure, then
steadily strumming more confidently as Naruto licks over the throbbing head;
soon swallowing him into a warm cavern. Heat ravages mercilessly and he raises
his hips in surrender to the first wild wave of pleasure. His desperation, has
Naruto laughing. Not the usual beatific giggles, but dark, mischievous
chuckles, rumbling like purrs over his arousal. And the pudgy cheeks—he so
often kissed, before tucking to bed, his baby brother—they blush and distend
animatedly, smearing with his pre-come. The lewd sight has him screaming,
stricken notes of terror and pleasure; yet Naruto envelopes more of his length,
pale blond lashes fluttering in cherubic playfulness.
 
“Why? You like this.” Hot puffs blow over his leaking erection, teasing.  “Does
it really feel so good?”
 
The dark fire consumes. Raging furiously between the vaults and uncontrollable.
Shackles melt. And heat devours: free, he’s free. And the flames of pitch black
prickles his hands to wakening. Leaning up, he runs bidding fingers through
golden hair, holding Naruto there, anchoring them past the point of no return.
Longing more. To see Naruto taking him inch by inch. Whips of pressure welds
up, through the dark swirling pit of hell as he coaxes himself into the mouth
agape, slowly. Ever slow, ever drawling. Revels the feel of Naruto’s pulsing
lips, streaming with saliva, enveloping, swallowing, and suckling him to
completion.
 
And he’s deaf to his own ragged gasps. Deaf to Naruto’s choking, strangled
noises. When his back lands against the shattering world below—and rocking up
into the cradle of wet, warmth.
 
Sirens cut in the gravity, vociferous and chaos spins.
 
Yet still, Naruto suckles with devotion, fighting to please. Small, sticky
hands dig into his naked, grinding hips, as if to calm his frantic need, his
desperation. But the shrill hues and octaves, blends into cacophonous storms:
inside, out. Raving this room and icy sweat drowns like pounding monsoons: the
heat in his core, tides of ecstasy, sweeping before dissolved by damp terror—
 
“Why Naruto…why…”
 
Rushes of breaths, forces out of him and halfway his voice cracks. Feeling his
spine bend drastically like a branch about to snap, gasping and imploring for
Naruto—who commits with unbound attentions.
 
“Because you let us.”
 
Bucking up, a shuddering release racks through him as the last bands of
restraint snap; he spills himself into the moist mouth. And his come seeps out
the corners, dripping stickily over the soft round jaw. Dripping, and dripping.
 
Naruto tumbles back, brows furrowing, face flushing with smothered disdain.
 
“I hate you.”
 
The heat disappears, only cold sweat. Sasuke sits up to reach forward, but
Naruto crawls further away.
 
“I’ll never forgive you.”
 
I hate you, hate you, I hate y—
 
 
…
 
 
Sasuke bolts up. Haggard pants. He’s in bed, alone.
 
Dream. Just a dream.
 
I hate you.
 
The ringing: his alarm. Shaking on the nightstand.
 
…never forgive you…
 
And from across the room, Naruto’s sprawled in pajamas, snoring.
 
“Fuck,” he breathes. Fumbling for the off switch, slamming the thing shut.
 
He hits the mattress again, as the dizzying spell possesses. And when he
catches his breath, he repeats to himself. It was a dream. And dreams aren’t
meant to be taken literally, he assures himself. A shudder runs through him,
but the end of it was the worst. How could that possibly mean anything but…
 
“S’uke?” the snoring crescendos into a schleeep and hitches. “You said the F-
word.”
 
A genuine slipup but nonetheless unnerving how Naruto plays patrol. With that
mocking grin.
 
“Get up. School,” he commands.
 
A rumble or two, as Naruto coughs. “Do I hafta?”
 
 With the last ounce of his strength, he affirms and tells his kid brother to
dress.
 
When Sasuke moves to dress up too, Naruto launches off like a canon.
 
“I can walk to the bus myself. I’m grown up enough to do that!”
 
“No. You’re not.”
 
And he sways to his closet. Shuffling the racks for his trousers and a shirt.
 
“I am too. Wacko grown-up. And you need to stay in bed! Doctor said so!”
 
“The fact that you say wacko, and made up words…no Naruto. You’re a kid, accept
that.”
 
“Hey, hey. Geniuses make up new words all the time, wicko, woo-woo, kpowzer
time! You want me to be boring and say what everyone else says?  Fine. Hello,
my name is—Mr. Naruto Roboto—” voice dropping as low as possible. “Oh hello,
yes I am a very grown up person.”
 
Sasuke slips into a shirt and he sits down to catch his breath.
 
“Yes, yes very educated too. Quickly Mr. Naruto, what is five times five!”
 
While Naruto talks to himself, Sasuke moves to wiggle into his pants, and the
belt was a hassle when his vision spins.
 
“Twenty five. But because I am a genius, I know that in another universe, the
answer is fifty two.” Naruto jumps onto the mattress like it was a trampoline.
“Oh why? Why is it fifty-two and not twenty-five, Mr. Naruto?”
 
Wrapping a scarf round his neck, Sasuke screws his eyes shut as a wave of
nausea attacks.
 
“Because everything in this universe is opposite. Everything is backwards. So
what is twenty-five is actually fifty-two, and that means really…there’s more
than one answer for the same problem!”
 
Then as he puts on his socks, Naruto hops off the bed, kneeling on the floor.
 
“Oi, Sasuke! Let me put on your socks,” demands his kid brother.
 
Before Sasuke could protest, they’re snatched out of his hands, and Naruto
flashes a grin.
 
And as Naruto works this task, the rant’s continued. Dressing him and still on
the litany.
 
 “But mister Naruto-Roboto can you explain—in this universe of opposite-
likeness—describe to me Sasuke.”
 
Sasuke grunts, and leans back. Almost tuning out the rant. Naruto always went
on these “one-man” shows. Usually he sits back and listens but now he feels
effectively disjointed. Regions of him where the weather’s burning with fury,
cold with regret, and a tightening grip over his heart…vestiges of the dream…
 
“Well in this opposite world, Sasuke’s the kid, and I’m the older one. And I
always take care of him. But then when I’d get sick, he’d put on my socks. So
you see people, just like the math problem, there’s two answers happening at
the same time…you just have to be a genius to realize that simple fact—”
 
“Naruto would you shut up already.”
 
A loud grin rages, as Naruto inclines his head to hide the smile.
 
“It’s Mr. Naruto. But okay. Whatever you want. No fighting!”
 
It was only when he drops Naruto off at the bus stop that he realizes—
 
His ten-year-old brother just described a consequence of the multi-verse
quantum electrodynamic theory of parallel universes.
 
And kids this age don’t even…conceptualize something so abstract like ‘the
universe’, did they really? But Naruto did. It wasn’t shallow. These
wonderments keep him steady enough to make it to the elevators. Scarcely
sinking into bed, still feeling so proud. And maybe it wasn’t “ingenuity”, but
the playful imagination, the creativity, the innovation in Naruto, that he so
admires…
 
The dampening and the sweats worsen. And he’s hacking, and the medicine isn’t
helping. He might have thrown up the pills, too. Fifty a pop, what a waste of
dough.
 
While in bed, he calls Shikamaru for a favor. His old roommate back in freshman
year. They shared a mutual understanding and some deep seeded appreciation that
was never really articulated in words—but rather in chess games, to pass the
time. Now he’s calling, asking if he’d pick up Naruto from school.
Surprisingly, Shikamaru agrees saying he’s never had the chance to repay the
debt from the one time, although notes of skepticism carry over the line.
 
Couldn’t let Naruto walk home alone: he’s making sure his kid brother’s not
going to wander off or get lost, or worse. A crazy driver, a man, a silhouette…
 
And in this manner, he sleeps. He rests easier.
 
Shikamaru rides a car, kind of beat up about the edges, but sleek. Soon Sasuke
sees a sequence of images, like some trance, he’s riding his own car, and it’s
not beat up like Shikamaru’s. It’s not even an average sedan. Something
adventurous like a hatchback, and yellow because Naruto would want to always be
inside. Such a stupid thought he cringes, but still the open road, and his
hands on a wheel…the details slip, it was just that feeling of the air beating
through the windows on a highway, that has him breathing in relief.
 
And at three in the afternoon, just as he’s rousing from an exhausting sleep,
Naruto and Shikamaru clamber into the apartment.
 
Naruto catapults into his bed like some hyper, wild pet.
 
“Hey Sasuke, hey! I love your friend Shikamaru! And guess what? He’s my friend
too now.”
 
He looks to the doorway, and sees Shikamaru leaning on the frame, crossing
arms.
 
“And, he took me to the store. So I brought you real food instead of cup
noodles.”
 
His eyes thin, fixing to Shikamaru.
 
Yet, Naruto nuzzles into him. “So I’m gonna go put stuff away in the fridge.
And make you dinner! Tomato au la salt. That’s just French for sliced tomatoes
with salt, you’re gonna like it!”
 
And running out the bedroom, Naruto exits, but you could still hear the
shuffling in the kitchen.
 
“How much?” he asks Shikamaru.
 
“Your kid brother bought it. I thought you gave him the money.”
 
Sasuke freezes. No. He never gave Naruto anything. Not for five filled bags of
produce and groceries…
 
Still keeping distance, Shikamaru continues, “How long do you think you’ll be
out of commission?”
 
“Friday. Just until Friday.”
 
“Alright.”
 
And with that Shikamaru leaves the apartment, saying goodbyes.
 
Though before he could digest the meaning of this surprise shopping spree,
Naruto waltzes in. With some air. An air of an ‘aristocrat’, holding up a
silver platter with…sliced tomatoes.
 
“Call me butler Naruto. At your service, lord Sasuke!”
 
The tone, the posture, and even the sober expression, really has Sasuke turning
away. Why does he feel so embarrassed? No one was here.
 
Naruto straightens out his imaginary ‘whiskers’. “For the first course: tomato
au la salt!”
 
“Naruto…”
 
“And the second course: fine cut corn chips with tomato sauce. A very exquisite
dip!”
 
“Naruto.”
 
“Yes my lord?”
 
A tremor runs up his spine. “What did you and Shikamaru do? Tell me.”
 
“Oh you mean Count Shikamaru? He’s a wonderful wack—I mean a wonderful chap! We
rescued beasts from the alleys and—”
 
“Stop talking like that. Speak normally.”
 
Naruto performs the most elegant curtsey he’s ever seen.
 
“As you wish, my majesty-lord-and master Sasuke!”
 
Another shiver up his spine and his heart races.
 
Snapping up, Naruto sends a shit-eating grin. “I’m not gonna tell you, ‘cause
it’s a secret, jerk.”
 
“Secret?”
 
“Don’t talk anymore, you need to eat and rest!” intercedes Naruto, who sets the
platter on the nightstand. “And I’m gonna feed you and then sleep with you. I’m
your cuddle’mon.”
 
“Cuddle’mon?”
 
“You know Pokémon?”
 
“No I don’t.”
 
Naruto draws a painful sigh. “Well let’s pretend I’m a monster that’s meant for
cuddling. I’m your cuddle’mon.”
 
From butler…to a cuddle monster. The changes are hard to keep up with.
 
“I’ll feed myself, dummy. Go do your homework.”
 
Instead of obeying, Naruto brandishes a fork with a piece of tomato on its
prongs.
 
“How does it taste? Delicious and exquisite yes?” asks butler Naruto. Not
cuddle monster.
 
And it’s as he’s chewing these sliced grape tomatoes, that he remembers a
chilling fact. He quickly swallows.
 
 “Where did you get the money to buy this? My wallet?”
 
Naruto freezes. Eyes widening.  “No I would never just take from your wallet!
Not without asking—”
 
“I don’t care. I just want to know.”
 
“No I didn’t!”
 
“Then. How.”
 
As a defense mechanism, Naruto laughs.
 
“Now, Naruto. Answer me.”
 
Naruto laughs harder, sniffling and slapping his knees.
 
“What’s so funny?”
 
Chuckles, and chuckles, and corners of blue are so damp with mirth.
 
“I have a piggy bank, silly. And let’s just say I’m saving up for a very big
cause.”
 
“What? I’ve never seen this piggy bank—”
 
Roaring in laughter, his kid brother sets the fork down. “You said piggy bank!
Sasuke said it! Say ‘piggy’, again! So funny, you’re so funny!”
 
“—and how are you even filling it up?”
 
Suddenly the laughter dies. Like a ball of flame tossed in an ocean of ice. The
fire dies.
 
“From where are you collecting the dough?” he asks again.
 
Naruto averts his gaze, and even lies on the bed beside.
 
“Hello?  I asked you a question.”
 
Now his kid brother turns to face the opposite way, showing his back.
 
“What the hell is going on?” His voice’s shows panic, veins twitching at his
temples. “Just tell me.”
 
“You’ll just get mad. And you’re sick. I don’t want to talk about it now.”
 
He’s not even thinking, his arm lassoes around the waist, drawing his brother
in.
 
“You tell me anyway.”
 
Naruto rolls in his grip, turning to face him. Even nuzzling a wet nose into
his chest.
 
“Fine,” murmurs he, brows knitting. “I play a lot of…games. Dice games.”
 
This is a joke. “What do you mean dice games?”
 
“For money. I play. And I’ve never lost. Ever. I always win, too.”
 
“Where? With who? With what?”
 
“At school, during recess behind the pillars so none of the teachers will see.
Play with my classmates and I bet my lunch money—”
 
“Unbelievable—”
 
“But Sasuke I always win! So don’t feel bad! Sometimes I make twenty bucks a
day—”
 
“Do you know how much trouble you’d get in? Do you?”
 
Naruto quails. “That’s if I get caught. But I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
 
“Idiot. You stupid little kid,” he grits out, earning a huff. “Do you think
those sore losers, the money you win off them, they’re not just going to peach
to the principal? And then I’ll have to walk into the office and grovel for
them not to expel you. Not to suspend you. Just so your record won’t get
stained.”
 
“You’re rig—”
 
“So stop with it.”
 
As if to appease, Naruto hugs tightly. “Sheesh, okay. I’ll stop.”
 
And his pride bleeds, because…
 
“Why? Why the need to collect money?”
 
Naruto flushes and buries into him. “Just wanna help. Okay? And my talent is in
my luck. You shoulda seen how I cream everyone at the games.”
 
“Luck is not a talent, moron.”
 
A ‘tch’ sound hisses. Naruto squeezes tightly, before easing up again.
 
“Yeah except thinking you’re lucky all the time is hard work, alright? It’s
like believing in yourself twenty-four seven…and yes, Sasuke, that is a
talent.”
 
At this, he inclines forward, zooming into the defiance.
 
“No more gambling, dummy. You don’t need to ‘help’, just the sound of it is
stupid. Because I have everything in control.”
 
“Even if that’s true,” returns Naruto, “I’d still want to help. To do
something. And I’m not gonna hang around being useless!”
 
He wants to say ‘you’ll never be useless’, and express confidence of his
control. But just then his teeth starts to chatter. Chills from his toes, to
his hairs, to his frame. Clacking, and vibrating. Like he’s sitting in a mound
of snow, and the blizzard rains through his skin—into him entirely. Waiting for
a train, waiting for something in the long distance, to appear. To pick him up
and steal him away from the ice. But it was snowing very hard, and he couldn’t
wait so long. Wants to disappear, really. From the cold. So he turns away.
 
Only for Naruto to tackle him wholly. Little body sprawling over his blanketed
form.
 
“Shh, sh, I’ll warm you up, S’uke.”
 
Naruto’s kissing him along the shaking edges, and as he’s breaking, vaguely
feeling the sopping wet lips…feathering along his jaw, his temples, and then
his forehead…
 
He remembers his horrific dream from this morning….and the icy damp terror
climaxes into his stammering breaths.
 
“N-Naruto, go away.”
 
Small fists knead onto his shoulders, trailing lower between his shoulder
blades. Numb, comfortably numb, but still shaking. Even as Naruto’s mouth finds
lodgment into his damp neck, he arches into the touch.
 
“Sh! You need a massage…you need me…”
 
Falling over the precipice, in anticipation. Almost falling to the tracks
because the light…the train’s lights glare, though smothered by smoke. Coming.
He sees it coming.
 
“Did you take the medicines?” asks Naruto into his ear.
 
Still shivering, he shakes his head, so Naruto has him swallow more pills. And
the pain, the aches, the sickness, all of that’s in the burner. Of
anticipation. The light was nearing, more and more. He could feel, smell, and
taste the bright vivid like liquid fire.
 
 “You never let us, anymore.”
 
Naruto’s words…rubs. Over his own mouth. Their lips, sealing, pressing. When
did they start? The kiss roams and a warm tongue probes, swipes. And all he
sees is the light, in the former distance, now consuming. Enveloping and
completely overwhelming—a star dissolving at his flesh. So hot in the core, but
freezing around the corners, and then…
 
“See? You stopped shivering.”
 
He feels Naruto straddle him. And his head lolls back in feverish stupor, yet
his arms are pinned to his sides. Vaguely feeling Naruto’s fingers dig into his
wrists.
 
“Quit fighting. Just lemme love you.”
 
Sasuke clenches his jaw, but the hinges are loose. So he swallows instead and
tips his head back on the pillows, spreading. Hair splaying. Let. Just let.
Need. Just needs. He sighs and inhales the intoxicating clouds of sweet
perfume. Without even raising an eyelash, he tastes, breathes the bubbling
intent sharing between.
 
“Stop this,” he says.
 
No one would believe he meant it. Chords quivering indecisively: you could hear
deep undertones of need, fringing with huskiness. Threatening to tip over to
octaves of hunger. And he knew not to blame the pneumonia.
 
“Stop what?” Feels the words rumble through his skin, as Naruto kisses his
neck. “This?”
 
He finds himself leaning into the caresses. Pulling like magnetism. Every quiet
hackle rises to draw as much heat in.
 
“I’m warming you.” continues Naruto, “the way you warm me.”
 
Bothers him. Hot. The passion rages furiously—like inextinguishable embers
beneath smothered ashes…he had so stomped viciously, time and time again, tried
to put out.
 
…the way you warm me…
 
A shaky breath passes. How Naruto returns the lavish affections…how his kid
brother expertly presses lips along his neck—pacing so perfect. One kiss
drifts, the next sucks, and the breath between says ‘love’.  Drives him mad,
drives him insane, his body tenses, and the chords strum with resonating
finality:
 
“You’re not understanding.”
 
The grip over his wrists tightens as Naruto scoffs. Plays the adult, forcing a
charade of a grownup with a straightening posture.
 
“I understand. What’s there not to? I like to kiss you, and I like it when you
kiss me.”
 
An echo, of him, of them, and he’s whirling their positions.
 
“Exactly.”
 
With Naruto lying beneath, wriggling in confusion. “So then…why…why not let
us?”
 
The why plucks the taut string that is his patience. Magnetism intensifies and
the spiteful, bitter notes ring through him: put Naruto in his place. Show just
why. Show and pour out this well full of desire. Topple it over.  Empty and
dump it forever behind. And he parts the crossed legs with a bold, slow knee.
Lowers himself in a sigh, while propping up, keeping the boy spread under him.
 
Naruto’s brows tremble, completely disoriented.  “Just…I…I mean…we—”
 
“What is it you want…Naruto?” he asks into an attentive ear, earning a shiver.
His voice puffs, lush and strokes, despite the void, whirling. “What do you
want me to do?”
 
The amount of stammering escaping Naruto, reaches an unmatched threshold.
 
“S-Sasuke I…you’ll just say n-no…”
 
With vague satisfaction, he watches Naruto turn rubicund, and how lips swell
into cherry red from nervous biting. Such perfect vulnerability, perfect
naiveté. The portrait: a mirror of his self. And Sasuke hears the pulse roaring
from his kid brother’s temples, the heartbeat thrumming madly as his own, when
he runs his mouth along the frames. Tracing with his own lips the soft
contours.
 
“Tell me,” he breathes.
 
Gulping, Naruto blinks before flickering with mushy, yet crazy fixation.
 
“Can you…can you kiss me like you did—like that morning?”
 
Driving his knee further between Naruto’s legs, Sasuke leans forward. But the
motions—like a leap into the sea— swims further into his madness. He seals
their lips together, at first casually. Nonchalantly. As if he touches flesh to
flesh with a faceless entity. He’s proud for a second.
 
Until a storm, the relentless tornado of Naruto’s little moans and gasps ruin
him. His forced numbness shatters. He feels everything. Everything. The
twitching underneath him, how his kid brother arches up to keep this sopping
wet connection—of their lips grinding—intact. How a shy tongue laps, asking to
repeat the kiss they shared that dreadful morning.
 
And sensations fires at his walls like an army of merciless soldiers. The soft,
wet sounds of such a vulgar kiss probe his head, possessing his blood in roars.
No defense, no more fending. He’s shutting his eyes tightly.
 
…you need me…
 
Time slips between his damp fingers. Grasping, handfuls of the
blankets…hearing…seeing…
 
…let us…
 
Stairs they ascended, spiraling up. Rich, everything had been rich and
luxurious. Velvet and violet—curtains billowed as their winds tailed them,
storming after and into home. Itachi was waiting atop the throne at the very
peak, smiling.
 
“You won’t open the door!” Naruto gasps, wetness of mirth lining the bluest
eyes.
 
After the breathless complaint, Naruto knocks for entrance with a more
demanding flick of the tongue. Opens. He opens like his whole being unfolds, a
bud in bloom under fostering sun, under the light. The barrier between
dimensions—removed harshly, abruptly—for the crash feels interstellar.
Destructive. Yet…
 
Freeing. Feels the air whirr round. Warm, intense winds. Just how they rode on
his bicycle, running through the birches and oaks with Naruto clinging from
behind. Strapped to his waist. And driving by the lake, they roared when he did
his tricks. Naruto wanted to be a superstar bike racer—and then, he let small
hands wrap over his own, letting his kid brother ‘steer’. Just to see the dream
come true. Laughter blowing back the long strands of grass. They barreled
through the paths, manicured trees flanking them, until Itachi called. Someone
waited, cared, and called—for them—
 
“And I miss it. Please…Sasuke…”
 
The words massage his lips, and Sasuke moans, his voice so raspy from travel.
Where, how far?
 
“Miss what,” he plays their mouths to graze. “What do you miss?”
 
“How it was before,” answers Naruto, in a whisper.
 
One arm of his collapses at last. He’s breaking. The other elbow straightens.
Falling, and he’s not hovering on the blurred line, but crossing it. Hardly
keeping over, Sasuke buries into the groove of a flushed neck, sucking absently
an inviting piece of flesh. Absently: how could that be, how could this
be…reflexive. But the sound of Naruto’s short, shallow gasps deafens reason,
entering his veins like anesthetic. He anchors to this connection, hearing the
blankets shuffle as he leans over, impossibly closer.
 
“Like…that,” mumbles Naruto, squeezing eyes tightly as if in embarrassment.
 
One glance earns him an enticing portrait—of his kid brother clenching fists,
shivering, and blushing to the ears.
 
“You want this?” he asks lightly.
 
Feels Naruto nodding vigorously, even writhing under him. Especially as his
lips hover like a cloud threatening to storm, any second. The percussions of
their heartbeats syncing and adding, and he kisses every inch of soft flesh.
The mad melody of his pulse has him lapping and biting with gradating urgency.
Can’t stop. Lightning cackles and his hands roam lower, finally squeezing the
life out of the narrow hips—now exposed for his pleasure. Because he raises the
hems of the plain white tee, inviting himself to taste more…the dulcet
laughter…and he slips.
 
“Just want you to love me again…S’uke…”
 
The soft murmur scarcely reaches, and is drowned by the vulgar sucking noises,
ill manners. He can’t control. Nuzzling slightly, before he grazes. Even as
Naruto lets a startled gasp, he continues lower with the world left behind.
Fever heats him hot and high, soaring further down, stealing the feel of Naruto
arching to his mouth. The feel of Naruto grasping on to him by the hair…or
trying to…
 
“Keep going?” he prompts, keeping his lips against the heat.
 
“Please…”
 
…I’ll never forgive you…
 
Blood’s burning, pressure’s building. But the sweat running at the back of his
neck, cools. Like the faint rain drizzling, when they lied on wet grass. Upon
the highest peak, the tallest hill. Spread without care. Down to their fingers
and tendons, watching and counting all the stars. Leaning together, and
sometimes Naruto heard a wolf’s howl from the distance. And he told his kid
brother he’d fight off anything: always protect. And the trust strengthened
him. Trust. The way he trusted in Itachi.
 
“S-Sasuke…I…”
 
Riding up the loose sweatpants, his face burns, lapping at the bare thighs.
Such soft, incredibly warm flesh. His. Only his. And scavenging fingers adrift
in chaos, anywhere, as he bites gentler yet closer. Hearing Naruto bumble in
nervous, mortification. One hand finally finding the clothed arousal that his
kid brother’s so ashamed for. One grope, a squeeze, and Naruto’s roaring in
pleasure.
 
—hate…I hate you—
 
He freezes. Storms blaze out—turbulent smoke clearing. Too fast. Nausea creeps—
 
No. What is he doing, what is he letting. Questions on speakers, booming and
destroying sense. Hate and disgust, and he pulls away. And Naruto misinterprets
his grimace as rejection. But the exhaustion festoons like creepers whipping
his arms down, and he rolls onto his back. Hates himself, for the spiking lusty
need—the weight of the dream…and he clutches his gut, as if he’s spilling
blood.
 
“Why’d you stop?”
 
At the drowning silence, Naruto crawls over, and fits into his arms like a
little spoon.
 
“You said we couldn’t kiss anymore…but I really…want to because—it feels
right…”
 
That’s when, inching up, Naruto navigates a puckered mouth to his.
 
But he cups the flushed cheeks, and veers their faces apart.
 
“Stop this. Stop. I’m your older brother, Naruto.”
 
“You…said…that already but—”
 
“But nothing.”
 
Naruto quakes with stubborn upset, straddling him in uproar.
 
“I like you. You don’t like me?”
 
“This is a mistake.”
 
Hurt, you could hear, the diving and breaking of the surface—the film of the
peaceful lake, shattering. Raining.
 
And he’s close to throwing up. “A mistake,” he repeats thickly. “Never again.”
 
“No it’s not. You just don’t believe me. But I mean it, I like you.”
 
And Sasuke lets go, feeling his vision blur. Before he could open his mouth,
Naruto cuts in with another remark.
 
“I don’t like anyone else. There’s no girl I give my chocolates to on white
day. And someday, I want us to marry—”
 
“That’s unacceptable.” He wants to sound harsh, like thunder, but his voice’s
heady and thin. And the more he hears Naruto's naive defense, the more his
stomach churns, violently seizing him.
 
 “We’re brothers,” he grits out, again. “When you were six, the declarations
weren’t unusual…but now…you’re ten, you should understand already.”
 
Naruto’s lips tremble, and eyes flash.
 
“I do understand! I like you, more than just—”
 
“You won’t finish that sentence,” he dares. “Get off me.”
 
With a stricken expression, Naruto dismounts. “Sasuke I—”
 
“Let me sleep in peace.”
 
And with that, Sasuke pulls up the covers to hide his shattering resolve. The
holes in his walls. And now he realizes, why his vision’s blurring. And he
buries his damp face into the pillow, turning completely away.
 
But then Naruto booms with sudden determination, startling him.
 
“Can you at least answer one question? Just one.”
 
He doesn’t answer, but he’s sure his heart’s thudding. Booming in this
pervading silence. Until Naruto finally voices.
 
“When you said that time we couldn’t kiss…or sleep together…is it because you
don’t feel the same?”
 
One breath’s allowed before Naruto presses on, unable to withstand any pauses.
 
“You only see me as…just a brother? Or are you just saying all that because—”
 
“No.”
 
He feels Naruto clench up, the mattress shivering slightly.
 
“I wasn’t just saying it,” he explains, muffled by the pillow, but then he
peels up a little. “I mean it. And I’m asking you to forget, to stop for good.”
 
“Forget?” barks Naruto, slamming his fists on an innocent pillow.
 
“It’s wrong. Very wrong, and you know that—”
 
“My feelings are wrong?”
 
Our feelings. Sasuke cringes at the internal correction. “Why are you making me
say what’s obvious?”
 
“I—I just love you! Is loving,” cracks in the voice, a whimper escapes. “Is
loving wrong?”
 
“I’m tired,” he says, still facing away.
 
He hears Naruto gulp for air. “You don’t feel the same…and I’m wrong…”
 
His body is tormented, numb, so very dazed. But he was never more awake, more
jolted than now. Pumping blood, and the roaring pulse in his ears, as the lake
rains in disturbance. Over him, in panging bullets and pellets. Awakening.
Raining and raining.
 
“And her?”
 
That puts him in sudden alert. He whips back to angle a sharp appraisal.
 
“Sakura is nobody to me.”
 
Not believing, Naruto continues in a rage, which soon breaks halfway into a
hiss.
 
“She’s your—she’s—more than a friend.”
 
“She’s not even a friend, stupid.”
 
“You’re lying!”
 
Flinging two pillows to the floor as raging punctuation, Naruto’s acerbic tone
chills the room.
 
“She told me how you do things for her—you go see her all the time too—you’re
her…” Naruto’s scowl turns to a bitter frown. “Her boyfriend.”
 
The conversation’s outrageous and far off. And too fucking wrong to humor or
even consider.
 
“Go pick up the pillows,” he dismisses, before turning away under the blanket.
 
Blond brows knit together, and Naruto’s tense like a land mine ready to
explode.
 
“So you are. I didn’t believe when she said—I didn’t for a second—but now it
makes sense…she’s pretty…she’s nice…” The pitch cracks and voice strangles.
“But why? Why did you never tell her about me? She didn’t even know I existed—”
 
Cadences of contrite and pleading, so heavily contrasting with the prior
anger…that Sasuke looks up in surprise.
 
“—that you’d kiss her, but not me. I’m not important to you like she is…”
 
Even though he feels the mattress dip as Naruto fetches the pillows, the
rambling continues, a symphony soon to climax.
 
“Because I’m just a kid…but I’m not. I’d do anything for you, does that make me
a kid?”
 
“Naruto—”
 
“What!”
 
Their eyes meet finally, with Naruto panting and huffing like a dragon.
 
And the panic floods, especially when Sasuke reaches out only to be smacked
away. The hurt spikes through the icy numbness, transmits and he clenches his
fist.
 
“She said I kissed her?” he asks, hardly keeping the anger out his voice. “What
else did she say?”
 
The bitter frown in Naruto sinks and impresses deeper.
 
“So it’s true.”
 
The ‘yes’ at the tip of his tongue’s like thorns, and plugs him from voicing.
 Naruto can see the affirmation, and winces. He winces too, the wound
spreading.
 
“You really…” Choked back, tightening high-pitched voice—Naruto bursts with
hoarse need. For an admission. For anything to hold on to. “…and you want to
forget…and you don’t like me back…”
 
Sasuke feels his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to refute. Say how untrue
that was—except…except it’s better this way. Wasn’t it? His guts roil and the
fever worsens—into delirium—hears trains of voices. Dark voices, light voices,
Itachi’s voice bearing down all at once. For this to stop, to continue and not
bear the burden of this hateful love, to do whatever he pleases. In the end, he
wavers like a white flag on the field. He couldn’t. Mirrors behold him, blue
and wet, because he’s failing. Naruto can forget. He can forget. They could
still be normal. 
 
“Exactly, it’s just as you say. And you’re going to stop with this.” He sits
up, forcing the glare. Praying for effectiveness. “You’ll get over it. You need
to.”
 
Unable to bear the answer, Naruto whirls forward, crestfallen. Placing the
pillows back.
 
“Like one of your shows—” he continues, gearing nonchalance even waving a hand.
“An episode every week. Passing phase. You’ll find someone else to ‘like’.”
 
Now, Naruto jumps off the bed showing his back. Hunched, and taut with stress.
 
“Thought you knew me,” haunting and full of reverb.
 
Breath’s stolen, when Naruto finally looks over the shoulder, canines bared.
 
“You see a kid,” grates out Naruto. “But at least I know what I want—I’ll never
give up or get over you.”
 
He’s not able to get a word out since Naruto storms out the room. Bolting and
gone. The door…it creaks and sways leaving a gap to which he stares. So very
close to shouting, for calling—for his kid brother to come back, return the
light, the warmth. Feels the darkness close in. Throat tightens. And lids like
heavy bars, pitch black swallowing his vision. Tasting vaguely the blood in his
mouth, how deep he’s bitten. To not kiss, or acquiesce.
 
Then he remembers…Sakura…her news…and he falls back, hits the mattress
clutching at the sides.
 .
.
.
***** Chief Pilot *****
Chapter Summary
     Wasted… dissolves into the wind, into nothing. He could feel his
     fingers chase after to no avail; and this was supposed to be the
     normal way, the promise to be better…yet desolation. Complete and
     utter desolation. Left sitting on a mound in the desert, barren, and
     still poor.
Chapter Notes
     This is a long one. The next chapter should be out sooner, I'm aiming
     before or on next Saturday. Also, the next chapter will be the last
     one before the...time-skip.
     Art's unsourced, it's been sitting on my PC. I wish I knew.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
.
.
Chapter Nine
Chief Pilot
.
.
.
.
Snores catch in his throat. He's falling back asleep...except:
Knives and needles shoot up his leg. And he kicks to free himself; kicks the
dog or whatever's sitting on his feet and cutting off his blood flow.
"Whoops."
The whisper sounds like a leaf crisping to the floor.
Immediately his eyes flutter open, looking over the covers. A crouched form
guards at the foot of the bed. Usual bright blond's dimmed to shadowy spikes,
scarcely can he make out the details. Though in the mounds of darkness,
shimmers of moonlight catch into blue irises—like a cat's gaze in the night.
Bit startling.
"Naruto?" Then his blurry vision darts to the clock's red bold letters. "It's
four in the morning."
"I know that Sergeant Scowls. Here, drink some water."
In a flash a glass of cool water is held out, some water spilling. Sasuke sits
up to accept the brimming cup, and after the first gulp he means to ask. But
Naruto turns away, crawling to the former position by the bedposts.
"Why are you still awake? In my bed too when we agreed you'd stay in your own."
Naruto shows his back. A dark wall.
"On duty, that's all."
"What are you talking about?"
"The bad cat spirits."
Instantly a scoff skids out of him. Just as he rubs his temples in weary
exhaustion, he notices one of his oversized tee's wrapped over Naruto's neck,
draping like some kind of...cloak.
"And are you really wearing my shirt—as a cape?"
"Listen dumbo this is armor, okay? And don't you know it's nighttime,"
continues Naruto, arrogantly. "You're sick so I'm not gonna risk it."
"Oh yeah? Risk what? There's no spirits dummy. You know there aren't. So get in
your bed as we agreed you're old enough for that, school's in four hours, and
put my shirt back in the drawer."
"Oh yeah? There are spirits. You know there are. And I'm not takin off armor
just so the cat spirit could get me when my guard's down."
"Naruto—"
"—Sasuke—"
"I said now."
"Now."
"Go watch the spirits on your own bed. Get out of mine."
"—get outta of mine—"
Reaching for the lamp, soon swarms of dim gold fill the room. And dizzy spells
attack one after another when he sees the hurt illuminated; distinct dark
circles pressing under blue doe eyes, his kid brother's drained, pale. Pulls.
Like a clawing hand. Before he knows it, Sasuke leans forward, brushing a
questioning caress. The cringe under his touch bristles his very flesh—pricking
thorns how Naruto flinches ever slightly.
"Tell me."
"—tell m—oi...Sas—Sasuke what are you—"
He straps Naruto to his chest, dragging the ruffled boy across like some puppy.
Holding tightly.
"What, stoppit," comes the stifled mumble, "leggo! I can't be distracted, I
told you I'm on duty—"
Rabid flailing in his arms, you'd think he's captured a wild fox. And yet, when
he runs a careless stroke through blond fields of soft, Naruto shivers to a
stop. He throws the covers over them like a tent, and he hugs the doll,
cherishing the heat.
"But you said..." is the weak protest, "you said we couldn't."
Sasuke coaxes his little brother's frowning lips to his shoulder, at once
feeling such small puffs for air. How the space between them disappears and he
traces the curves, the rumbles of confusion touching before they even form to
words.
"You said we couldn't...even cuddle..."
Naruto's knees flex when Sasuke casts a mean leg over, purposefully sprawling.
"I needa go back to duty. Or it'll come back...the cat lady—"
The leg anchoring them together shows no mercy, neither budging nor freeing.
And it was funny, how Naruto wrestles with just his one leg.
"Sasuke! Come on! We're in danger, this isn't funny!"
Buries his face in the pillow, pretending to be asleep. Smirk hidden, stifling
the expressivity brimming. Almost chokes on his snort, breath hitching as
Naruto continually slaps him.
"Wake up, come on! Don't you see? If I don't keep guard then—"
He 'snores', but anyone with sense could tell it was a fake.
"—it'll get you again. So leggo a'ready! Stop!"
...so gullible. Almost frightening. Naruto wiggles, using both arms to pry off
the weight. Though after a violent wave of squirming—he thinks the energy's
climax— Naruto doubles over in exhaustion. Panting.
"I'll hafta summon a special ability," is the mutter.
Complete silence filled with anticipation, he even forgets to 'snore'.
Until the most insidious sensation strikes. The feeling of little animals
crawling up his leg. How Naruto's dainty fingers skitter up his bare
flesh—sends him instantly to a crack. A gasp strangles. Unmerciful tickles,
hovering electricity that tortures. He nearly shakes away, but he's pretending
to be asleep.
Too late. Smacking Naruto's assaulting touch—he's given himself away.
"You faker!"
They wrestle in a game of prisoner. Keep the other pinned down, drive them
nuts, forcing them to be still. Of course Naruto's the perfect opponent,
tickling in the right spots to weaken him—and they tumble a couple times,
plowing the bed with buzzing energy. Tickling so meanly, so mercilessly,
Sasuke's voice catches between growls and laughs—whatever the hell kind of
sound, disturbing the very gravity like little earthquakes, with Naruto equally
purring over him.
"You—you were pretending! All cos you wanna cuddle with me even if you won't
say it."
Waterfalls of high to low, feeling familiar pads of fingers brushing, and
pinching—drives him insane. And in a lightning instant, chains Naruto into an
embrace. His kid brother rocks in stormy fits of snickering, and Sasuke rests a
chin in the mess of blond, even while Naruto sniffles and cries like a laughing
maniac.
Soon his kid brother's holding in giggles. And he's being paid in gold pennies,
raining jewels, how each peal of laughter cashes out and caresses his soul.
Naruto snuggles up to him, familiar arms locking round his neck. Sheets shuffle
upon inclining closer. Foreheads meet, graze, and he drifts in this euphoric
moment, occasionally petting, and he watches how eyes crease in pleasure at the
attention.
"Hey S'uke," mumbles his kid brother. Almost reluctantly. "Can I say the
truth?"
"If it's the truth, then go ahead."
Naruto scrunches up his nose, now mumbling an octave lower. "Wasn't armor. Your
shirt I mean—I just—likehowyousmell—"
"What?"
"You smell nice!"
Cheeks burn. Sasuke feels his brow tremble.
"You're just used to it."
That's when Naruto looks up with sparkles dashing the irises.
"Maybe. But since I can sleep with you tonight...then I don't need it."
Flinging off the 'cloak', Naruto snuggles up again. "You don't even sound sick
anymore. Prolly can go mountain climbing, can we? Can we please? This
weekend please!"
"Too last minute. Too far. Too—"
"Knew you'd come up with a bunch of excuses! But just think about it. We climb
to the top, put a flag with our names on it. And the view's gonna be worth it,
even camp in the snow coupla days." Whispers condense to climax. "Then jump off
from the other side, just imagine, there's an undiscovered island there. I have
this feelin...the most breath grabbin kinda island—it's the perfect place, and
we're gonna find it."
"Perfect?"
"Not on any map. No one would know. Can see it now, the trees, grass, and lil
beasties we take care of—y'know baby animal folk with the cute faces and all,
even if they growl and hiss. They wouldn't mess with us. We'd build huts and
swim all day never worryin bout no money or school."
A pause, as if they both consider this plane of image.
Eventually Naruto chews on the bottom lip, voice pitching up. "You see we'd
find lots of treasure in the caves, and if we felt like it, we could do anythin
really. Maybe steal a ship or two, ya hear, become Aquarius pirates—"
"Nefarious," he corrects idly.
"That's what I said! Naffy-carious pirates and all, oh boy—we hold interviews.
Who we let to join our ship. I'll be captain, 'course."
When Sasuke's quiet, Naruto shuffles in excitement.
"Is there somewhere you'd wanna go first, S'uke?"
Another round of silence, until Naruto knocks with a punctuating embrace. "I'll
take you anywhere. Jussayit!"
"I'd..."
He trails off. At first, images run wild. Yet, when one frame finally settles,
still and serene: he saw a hammock swaying beneath their treehouse, and he had
bent his neck back far enough to see the lake, always shining like pools of
melted iridescent pearls under a sun. Quiet. So quiet he could hear Itachi call
them when it was dinner time, and they'd have someone to go home to.
"You'd wanna go where?"
The shapes of shadows dance across the ceiling, the walls, fluttering and then
disappearing. His eyes return focus.
"Maybe we'd live there. You know on that island you promised on the other side.
Where no one'd find us...disappear together."
"...disappear together..." murmurs of wonder. "Can we really do that?"
As if to fire the answer point blank, he puts his mouth to Naruto's ear.
"Yes."
After Sasuke stretches over to click the lamp off, they nestle back into their
embrace. He failed to notice the way Naruto's expression darkens, cloud
hovering, and brows quivering in deep consideration.
.
.
.
.
Friday morning he's steady. Drops his kid brother off at school, but the path's
broken. Her words—her confessions—he ends up following like a dim, scattered
road, nearly dissolved into wind. She's told him before she loves. Then goes on
some bullshit about a future together when the time's right, usually he'd space
out and miss a couple details. Though they crossed lines like fugitives hopping
borders, deeper into a private world on the run.
The news—her news—therefore must be cementing the bars of this world. This
prison. Something which would trap him there with her forever.
"This is a little sooner than I hoped—unexpected actually," says Sakura,
guarding the entrance to her office. "You look very pale, still."
He unclenches his fist. But still they hover before the gate to hell's covens.
Standing amidst the narrow strait of pristine hall, completely void of peers.
He tells her he's fine. Echoes only answer, reminding how empty and alone they
were. Yet an amused quirk passes over Sakura, perfectly veiled by the cheap
perfume of concern.
Her skirt flutters as she shuffles back. "Are you, really?"
She coaxes as if pulling a cane round his waist. And his heels dig into the
tiles; friction, resistance.
"Please sit down, Sasuke," says Sakura, sparing only a meager glance.
Her voice reverbs in the office, barren and airy. Not only her voice but her
shielded eyes and impersonal pace, as if he's a little part of her assembly
line of plans. He drops into the seat. Sapped at her tone. It was unusual for
Sakura to steal his monotonous demeanor—glaring at him like a computer program.
"I wanted to thank you for your help in our latest project," she says primly,
typing into a laptop. "The publication's going through standard peer review. So
you should expect an update from me in the next couple of weeks."
Not a mention of that night. Not a sliver of acknowledgement in her eyes.
"You mean my draft?" he asks.
"Yes our draft and this publication under your name, approved by me, should be
an easy pass to a graduate program."
His heart soars, and yet his face's still.
"You did apply to the sister University, right? Should be hearing soon of an
acceptance, I hope."
She pauses, and looks away from her computer. Expression flat.
"However as of now since the project's done, I won't need your assistance any
longer. For the time being, at least."
Freezes little by little, as sheet after sheet of ice hits the floor. Sheds and
shatters.
"You said you had...news."
Fatally, she continues breaking the frozen nerves in him, with her sharp
hammering voice.
"Yes, this is it. Your help for the last two years means a great deal for me."
Her smile's not right. Bent. "We, as a team, accomplished unbelievable
progress."
His heart clamors. "So sudden?" Voice's hoarse, he stills at the slip.
"Don't look so surprised, Sasuke," she deadpans.
The furnace cackles in the background. Snapping and whiplike noises.
"What is this really about?" he demands.
She swipes her glasses off. "Please. Just bow and thank me. I'd respect you
more."
The remark humiliates. As if he was groveling, but he wasn't. Why was she doing
this?
"Tell me what I've done."
Her brow trembles as she internalizes the storm.
"Because I said I lived alone? That I never told you about Naruto? Is that it?"
That couldn't be it. That couldn't. He sinks into his chair. Now, only now he
notices darkness consuming the room—the blinds are pulled down, especially when
shadows gesticulate across her cheeks.
"Sakura. Tell me." The last ounce of heat before cold sweeps over.
Tick. Tick.
Her eyes bear into him. Searching. Locking. Then shifting, all in a breath. And
the apprehensive feeling worsens when she says nothing. What the hell is she
hiding? What does she know?
"This is only for the time being." She resumes typing. Swallowing ill words,
never letting it past. "Once again, we will be in touch."
And his voice probably cracked without his consent because she meets his gaze,
and the flicker of burning want flashes in her eyes.
"I need the work," he says.
"Well I'm sure you won't have a hard time finding work."
"At the University with you," he's talking in fragments, as his heart splits.
"I won't get the flexibility. This work is ideal. I've done everything you've
asked of me."
"Not everything."
With that, she completely rips all interest from her expression and funnels it
into her screen. Forced. Her fingers tap at the plastic keys, a melody of
distance and routine. Contrived.
"Well what do you want from me?" he seethes, scarcely smothering the embers of
fury.
"For you to leave."
"Why?"
Her chair hisses as she leans back. "You're a competent, intelligent man,
aren't you?" she conjures, whirling a bejeweled finger in the air. "Don't act
as if you really have no idea, it's sickening."
"I get it. I lied about Naruto, right? You're wondering about how you can trust
me. I'm now a bigger liability to you."
She cringes. Though immediately Sakura bounces up like a pogo stick, into
conniving cheeriness.
"That's enough. Thank you for coming in, please have a good day."
When he stands, all the heat of the spotlight rushes up and the world spins.
"I have another brother too," he continues. "My older brother—dead. My parents
are dead. My cousins are in other countries…"
The air's water now. Sakura lights a cigarette in despair. A numb glaze spreads
over him as she wags the blazing match to death, putting out the clouds. Her
slim fingers twitch while bars of darkness dart across her like arrows, from
the shades from the blinds molding and sculpting her pale flesh. Shadows lodge
and flank her hardening eyes, accentuating a hunger—so familiar, coming to him
in waves.
He swallows the sudden leap his heart gives. A spotlight circles the dark sky,
searching and searching for the criminal. Visible tremors run through him
because he sees a glint flashing in her expression—the spotlight closing in.
"Your older brother is not dead."
Her lips hardly move. Puffing out the vapors, and under the ripples of dark and
light, he feels the first tendril of smoke reach. A terror unknown seizes him,
he couldn't breathe with his heart yowling like a wild animal. Thudding in his
ears. She knows. He laughs at the rotten joke, clipped laughs turning to the
quiet, feral scowl spreading his lips. Infuriating. Knows what. Nothing.
"My brother died when I was fourteen."
Rapid flicks of the ash into the tray, before Sakura shoots up.
"Another lie after lie, holy shit," she cries out. "Do you feed Naruto the same
bullshit?"
Even the scent permeating, anchors. She crosses round her desk with a nose up
in the air looming over him in her heels, though he's still a little taller.
Her tail raises like the poisoned barb of a scorpion, attacking him for her
preservation.
"Stop with the lies, Sasuke!"
Like a hawk, she circles his frozen frame. Her beaming emerald rays probes
every cold angle, until finally she stops in front.
"I found an Itachi Uchiha. The one your Naruto endearingly rambles on about. So
either the undead walk this Earth, or once again another stack of lies. Because
he's running a lucrative business in the States, so why do you speak of him in
such a disrespectful manner? To talk of your older brother as dead...is that
necessary?"
The last syllables chokes, as he violently seizes her wrist.
"Shut up. Your voice is annoying—you're annoying. You don't know a goddamned
thing."
"You're right, I wouldn't. You don't tell me anything, not even to Naruto."
Sasuke grinds his teeth, giving her another wrench. He twists and slams her
back, which leaves a burning bracelet to her wrist.
"Eat the floor. I never want to see you again."
And in the next instant her sweet mawkish tone drops.
"I helped you adopt Naruto. I signed papers for you. I gave you a job, I helped
you with your course load so you could spend time with your little brother—I
would have helped you more if I had known you were trying to take care of a
kid. But you just lied to me. Because you don't care about me, and—I—"
"You're a selfish woman."
"Just because I wanted attention from you, it makes me selfish? For what I've
done for you…how about this, let's say, I can call Itachi Uchiha today. What
are you looking at me for like that? Maybe he can help me get to know you, I—I
even found his business profile online, and his picture, contact information,
and—"
Darkness swallows his peripheries, vision tints red.
"Dead. He's dead. Stop. Stop talking—he's not—"
"Naruto blindly believes in you, the way I foolishly did. What kind of
influence are you?"
"It's not your place. You don't understand."
"How would Naruto react if he knew Itachi was alive?"
"Sakura…don't. Don't do this."
"Then let me in! Just stop with the lies and I won't tell Naruto."
She closes the distance. She kisses him. She steals time and slows it.
No. They're two negative ends of a magnet being forced to touch. Her tongue's
coated with fumes. Toxic fumes. Mind poisoning. He grimaces as his back pummels
against the door, as she pins him down with her whole being. Hands pull his
hair, coaxing him to open. His insides wiggle like he's strapped into a
sickening ride. Whirling won't stop. Borderline fatal. He screws his eyes shut,
feels his body filling with charred dust like a hourglass. Time moves so
slowly.
The back of his foot crushes the cigarette she's dropped.
Am I like this with him?
...like the hunger in her eyes, so familiar. Seen it before. Her taste,
desperation, regret. Felt it. Each touch of hers ignites the impulse to throw
and damage. He feels himself turn crazy, withholding all the impulse to break
these very walls.
Except she stops. Sakura rips from him, exercising control. Even dusts her
blouse like they've gone off-roading. She coughs from the overheat before
nestling into her desk. Stage's darkened wholly, and still Sakura keeps a
splayed hand through her hair, as if she's in pain.
"Don't you see? I just want to be close with you. You don't have to be alone, I
want to help."
Fog surrounds as if the climate's turned humid with despair. He storms
out. Don't you see, she said, you're alone, she said—you need me—she continued.
Breaks into a run halfway out the University, unsheathing her carton from his
pocket—soon a cigarette burns in his mouth. And he's porous to the open air,
soaring down the streets because a front of happiness rains over him, not
having to see her again.
Tick. Tick.
Checks his watch. Almost about an hour till Naruto gets out of class. Their
home, their sustenance, everything rests atop his empty wallet. And so quickly
the waterfall, the flow, the torrent of joy tapers off. To drips. He clutches
his abdomen, to keep himself together. What is he going say? He can't afford
their happiness anymore? He can't save up for a car? He can't be like Itachi,
he can't be perfect, when that's how Naruto saw him and expected him to be.
Thwip. Thwap.
Clock ticking and blood dripping. Blood he hears, but never sees. Sasuke digs
deep, brushing delicate skin. He trusted others to ruin everything he had left.
Like the island Naruto talked about: they had it before. It was perfect,
beautiful—the three of them—they lived in utopic isolation away from all the
unwelcomed animals—just them. A sanctuary. Until doors opened: doors he clung
to stay shut...doors Itachi left broken. Dead. He's dead.
"He's dead, Naruto."
With a sapped stride, he finds a support to lean on until the school frees his
kid brother. Under a blooming cherry blossom tree, he lays over the bark
watching the pink buds, minuscule and covered in blankets of snow.
Snow...drifting ceaselessly like tears to his face he doesn't wipe away. Flakes
melt on him but they pile oppressively on the budding branches over him.
"That's right," he practices, under his breath. "I ended him. He means nothing
to me." Should Naruto part open a mouth in confusion, Sasuke will continue,
"Itachi let them all in. Let their hands on you, on me, and let them destroy
everything."
He waits for thirty minutes in front of the double doors. For the real Naruto.
Not the lucid clone he's practicing with. Because he'll tell him everything.
The truth before Sakura spills dirty, inhumane lies...she has no idea.
A tch skips between his lips, and he ping pongs a conversation with the voice
in his head, before lighting another cigarette.
"Excuse me young man," calls out a fellow parent.
His eyes fall away from the white icy canopy, looking to her as if in boredom.
Same wretch as every other day.
She glares at the burning cigarette in his mouth. "Smoking around here isn't
allowed."
As per routine now, Sasuke flicks it immediately by the same rusting fire
hydrant too; you could see a small hill of cig butts piling. From yesterday,
from last week, twenty, already forty discarded sticks among ashes.
The gong sounds. imperial doors swinging open, rattles the stillness. Kids let
out grade by grade. Naruto's in fourth grade, so his brother will be in his
arms soon. Just the impact of their collision would knock stars in his vision
again. They'll go home together, he'll cook Naruto's favorite ramen, and help
with homework. They'll play some fantasy game, cuddle, sleep….
I can't afford our happiness. Nothing is in his savings. Cable service has to
go, their grocery budget dwindles already on a fine line. And—and I'll cancel
Naruto's cellphone service, cut out unlimited texting and calling…what the fuck
was I thinking? Allowing Naruto the freedom for unlimited texting and
calling...what the fuck has he permitted? What if Sakura tried to call Naruto
or message him?
Switching his lighter, igniting another stick of ash, Sasuke's already turning
away from her. But the lady's calling out.
"Hey! This place isn't your ashtray, you know? Or I'll call security—"
"Don't," he tells her. "I'll go."
And instead of flicking this fresh cigarette to the pile, he crosses the
street. Naruto will just have to meet him on the other side.
He turns away and misses her shock.
Soon hordes of kids let out, and Naruto's this ray of sunshine among all the
baby buffalo. A golden lion cub, king of the jungle, you'd see him miles away.
And Naruto runs across, grinning from ear to ear. Which is a pleasant surprise,
the morning and weeks before being a grudge match and all. Yet now, his kid
brother smiles so freely, so purely happy, Sasuke holds his breath. The smile
beaming his way medicated his own sadness to a distant tide's roar.
"Hey Sasuke, guess what?"
He turns, just to blow out the cloud in his lungs. And he inhales another puff,
a last round before flicking this one to ashes.
"Give me your bag," he demands.
The grin widens, and Naruto holds onto his straps, never letting go.
"Gaara's gonna come over."
Heart sinks. Sasuke feels his bangs flutter in the wind as he freezes
completely.
"I never agreed to that."
Without faltering, Naruto sways on tip-toes, impishly. "But you did 'member?
Said we gotta be a normal family. It's normal to have friends over, isn't it?
Plus I already told him he can come with us."
The grin's despicable, revolting, the smile's not medicinal anymore...because
it wasn't for him. Beaming and gifting for someone else. And he rubs his
burning face, expressing the disdain.
"I don't care about normal." The shadow from his eyes spills to his mouth, his
whole expression. "We don't have guests. Those are my rules. And that's the end
of the discussion."
Naruto assumes war, taking on a raspy high-pitched snarl, arms slashing the air
like swords.
"Oh yeah? Well then it's about fairness. You broke your own rules, so...I mean
if you can have girlfriends over, then I can have friends over."
The ice lodged in his heart aims like an arrow. "Not today. Not ever. Turn
around and tell your friend he's not coming with us."
You'd think he lashed a whipping, with Naruto wincing the way he is.
"That's not fair."
"I said no. You tell him that."
Unmoving, only the smile falls. They're about to fight again. Pushing and
pulling fatally at the plane's exit, thousands feet above ground, scrambling
over the edge.
"You're not listening," is the flat, determination. "His sister and brother
can't pick him up until later."
"So what?"
"So I told him he could wait with me instead of staying alone at school."
"Am I supposed to feel sorry now? Is that it?"
"—I promised I wasn't going to leave him alone!"
Heart races violently, while they fall into another stalemate, tipping over.
And the parachute's broken, the flight's anything but soaring. He shoots
forward to grab the warm hands of his kid brother.
"Shouldn't make promises you can't keep, learn that already."
With that, he tries to interlace their fingers, but Naruto won't let. Won't
let. Instead the feral scowl in the other blooms, rendering goosebumps.
Naruto's fury matches his own.
"Call him. Tell him I won't allow it, that way your friend will blame me. So
you'll still look good in his eyes...that's all you care about isn't it?"
Immediately Naruto fractures as if trapped under a cloud of hurt.
"Right. I'm always right," he rubs in. The more Naruto frowns, the wider he
smirks. "At least about you. Especially how you care too much of what they
think. Your promises...you think they matter? They're words—"
"Shut up. I'm going, so bye Sasuke."
...bye little brother. A cold door slammed.
And the crack spreads. Smirk flounders from within. Even as his kid brother
shoves a searching hand into his coat pocket, unsheathing the house keys, he's
rooted as if invisible wires restrain his body. Like a dream. As though a
strong magnetic field churns his insides into waves. Can't hear his own head.
Until finally the metal jangles of his keys wakes him.
He snatches forward, only to be dodged.
"Gonna come home later, that's what. Cause I'm stayin here with Gaara."
Thunder must be roaring. Heat, adrenaline. Something with sharp pincers crawls
in his blood. Stupor boils under fury because he's not seeing straight,
especially as Naruto roughly pulls away, running towards campus. For that
stranger. His reflexes are fast, and he snags Naruto by the backpack before
distance's put. And he yanks the straps, veering them to a wild confrontation.
"Are you kidding me?" he bites out, and he's shaking in fury. "Who the hell are
they to you?"
They spin literally as Naruto jerks for freedom, and he so desperately clings
for the tether. Even as Naruto fires back, loud so all the parents around can
hear.
"It's because I don't break my word that it means something. Sometimes it's all
I have to give someone—and I'd rather get beat up...than go back on a promise."
"I won't let you," Sasuke warns, but his voice is frantic like he's about to
lose all the stakes. "We're going home."
"You can't make me."
Never mind the stares, never mind the pairs of eyes and ears watching their
explosive tug of war. Yanking Naruto to him, while the other writhes for
escape—stalemate—the way his frantic need for their isolation, heart fluttering
wildly at the thought of anyone else matches Naruto's stubborn resolve of a
kept promise.
He ends up losing. Badly. Only in retrospect, he figures out this was all a
giant scheme.
Because now they are three. In triangle formation, he stands at the pinnacle as
the three of them walk. Until Naruto confesses...and he slows to a stop. They
all do, by the corner store.
"Excuse us, your majesty Sasuke...we would like..."
When he glares through the veil of his matting dark bangs, Gaara simply stands
unfazed. Which unnerves him to the ends of the ocean.
Though Naruto grins. "We—I mean—I didn't properly introduce you. But this is
Gaara, the Duke of Desertshire, and I, Prince Naruto of whirlpools, lightning,
and fire...if I may have your attention."
Idiot. Goddamn idiot. Playing the antics. And Sasuke latches to the ropes,
which offer to pull him from the quicksand: the drowning upset of losing his
own work, Sakura's deep scratch to his ego, and when the embers of their
showdown roil in his gut.
"Tyrant King," scoffs Gaara, to which Naruto quickly shushes.
"Sh, sh, it's how I get Sasuke to listen." The whispers are louder than
screams. "If you call him majesty or highness, he instantly relaxes."
Sasuke can't even keep a steady scowl. "Spit it out already."
Naruto bows. Very thoroughly, grinning to Gaara as if the plan's worked.
"Your majesty-highness...we wanna get ice-cream."
As if reading the thermometer, Naruto pauses, searching for any sudden heat.
But none shows.
"Can you take us?"
Two pairs of doe eyes look up to him, aiming like missiles begging.
"No."
And he's surprised to feel pain at the crushed resignation flashing in the
kids. Actually stabs him like a knife, too. Sasuke averts his gaze, playing a
wall, the kind damaged from the inside—showing obvious cracks.
Though the opportunist glints with ambition. For prince Naruto, gallantly
stomps a foot and cries, "Puh-lease, my majesty, commander of the cities,
skies, and earth! We'll kneel for ice-cream."
"Yeah. Please," adds Gaara, the desire for ice-cream far greater than pride.
"We'll be good, your highness, commander of the swamps, and...everything Naruto
said."
That's when—right as he shows signs of resignation—a symphony of 'pleases'
explodes. Strangers pass by smiling at these two little singers warbling out
'please, please majesty Sasuke', looking up to him. Especially as Naruto's
fists dig into his coattails in punctuation, while Gaara's eyes wet with
tactical tears—so very fake—but perfectly working. Sasuke screws his gaze shut,
already considering...the iron curtain billowing. Not that he wants to actually
go, and it's not that they're cute either. Something else...drawing him to
protect, and feel again. To fence in and guard, while watching from the
outposts.
The moment he clips out an acquiescence, the 'royal' duo high-five each other.
"So less'go."
With that, Naruto offers his free hand, the other still linked to a stranger.
As if the hand's covered in slime, Sasuke walks ahead without accepting such
compromise, instead glaring at the pavement. He stares at the ground, his nose
burying into an uplifted collar. Naruto lets everyone in. And enjoys it. How?
Feels the rumbles...the movement...the train they're all on.
"Your brother's really fast—"
"Hey—wait for us S'uke!"
When he turns, he sees Naruto hunched over and breathless. The sight's so
unusual, he feels his heart skip a beat. Naruto's never out of breath—from one
block? And just as he's stepping forward, his kid brother snaps up, seemingly
normal.
Pointing up with his chin, Naruto gasps out, "Wow, ya see that?"
All three of them look up to the overcast sky. Rocketing by, they watch the
awe-striking storm of birds. How the flock flips upside down—all in a crowd—as
if each bird's connected, swimming through clouds like pilot jets, showing off
tricks, then grazing the rooftops. The leader bird is at the forefront, decked
in black. Majestic and perfect the way the whole family's synchronized because
behind the leader, streams of white and silver lines follow. Together, the
family basks in light, shining with an intensity Sasuke shields his eyes from.
The show entrances him, encore after encore. He fixates to the peak, and he's
left breathless at how solid the unit moves.
When Naruto and Gaara enter the shop without him, he snaps out the daze. He
drifts, wondering. About the birds migrating. Because at the pinnacle of the
flock, you'd always see one bullet leading them all. The mass of flight always
converges to a triangular point: the chief pilot. And he wonders what would
happen if the chief falls sick all of a sudden, like a wing gets chipped or
turns sightless. What would happen?
They need to go somewhere warm, somewhere where they could survive. But the
mission would fail without the leader. There has to be someone there at the
front in that V-formation.
.
.
.
Like some museum tour guide, Naruto continues with the grandeur presentation:
sporting a chocolate mustache though. While windswept ringlets of blond
accentuate a quality of vibrancy.
"And that's our family portrait."
All three of them stand by the entrance, attention fixing to the vivid photo.
The frame Naruto made, and the picture Sasuke promised: it was the dead of
winter, Naruto's hanging from the highest peak of the jungle gym to match their
heights.
"Looks nice," comments Gaara, nodding. "Happy."
Sasuke scarcely regains composure; his kid brother's chocolate mustache pushing
him over the edge…though he turns away.
"Don't bother me," he tells them. "I'm going to do homework."
With that, he moves for his desk by the window, really just to quit them. When
he drops to his chair, his eyes scan over the city view. For a moment he
expects a flutter of the same magnificent show from earlier, of the glinting
silver and white family, but nothing in sight save for planes, scattered
clouds, and gables of skyscrapers. And he thinks of the chief pilot...who must
have veered the flock on the right path because they're gone on a time
sensitive mission to a warmer, better place.
Homework becomes impossible to do. Fragments buzzing. Like a mess of jigsaw
pieces, and the feeling of a whole picture's in reach. He clutches the edges of
the desk, then his temples. Couldn't breathe right. With forced concentration,
he sharpens his pencil as if it were a blade. Then stares at his assignment as
the deadline flickers...the way a curtain in his mind flickers, swaying, and
parting a ray of light, while the rest of him's in shadow.
Because all he hears is them.
"Come I gotta show you something!"
Naruto and Gaara, linked by the hands, move together in a raucous line.
"It's in my room."
Especially when they trail into the bedroom, Sasuke swallows and hones in the
reflex of chasing after. Every muscle tightens, and he forces his eyes to his
laptop.
Blank office document. Only the throbbing in his temples, beating relentlessly.
He strains to listen to their conversation, except mindless chatter reaches his
ears. Leaning back, he harkens to Naruto's bubbly voice from the other room and
obsesses over each cadence. Not even listening to the lyrics, just the sound.
Except he wasn't part of it. Just the audience. He's not conducting the music,
the laughter—it was someone else.
When finally he's typing something into his document, a dreadful noise tears at
him.
Criiiik. Badum. Did Naruto really just shut the door? Why?
A shudder of disbelief runs through him. Freezing completely. No words could
describe the stupor seizing him hostage. Next thing he knows he's shot up and
grabbing the knob—stilling only for a second, as if the curtain in his mind
sways violently. What am I doing? No, no, what is Naruto doing?
"Sasuke?" chirps Naruto, quirking a confused brow.
He finds Naruto and Gaara crouched on the bed, playing cards. They're sitting
Indian style, too closely. Gaara's wide doe expression flings over the
shoulder, while Naruto bites the lip. Emerald tinted beams, and blue—all aiming
like misfiring lasers.
Gaara's torn, not sure whom to look at.
"Do you want to play with us?" the kid blurts out lamely.
"No," he tells them, after a nerve wrenching silence. "And no."
They both give him the funny eye, especially Gaara.
"And no what?" they ask in unison, lowering their hands.
Sasuke brushes the matting hair out of his eyes. Sweat runs, and he's burning.
"Not in here," he says. "Play where I can see you."
This earns a sharp look of disbelief from Naruto, whose mouth hangs agape.
"In the living room, where I can see you," he repeats, finding steady firm
ground at last.
A rebellious scoff escapes Naruto, like a little wisp of fire. "Why can't we
play in here?"
Ignoring the blaring bewilderment, Sasuke gestures with the wave of his hand
for them to get up and relocate.
"Because I said so, that's why. Now take your games out there."
The weight lifts off his chest. He can't explain the because he sees and hears
Naruto in plain sight, and he watches the other kid scamper after. The obvious
displeasure radiates like fumes from Naruto—their camp now forced out in the
wide open as they sprawl over the carpet floor, with Sasuke chaperoning.
Eventually the ruffled anger evaporates, and Naruto's laughing again.
Laughter so suddenly, so vividly: Sasuke looks up from his homework, from the
screen on his desk to seeing...his kid brother sprawl an arm over Gaara's
shoulder. Over the rug, they cozy up in unabashed closeness.
"I see your cards," jokes Naruto.
"Stop cheating."
Their shared giggle is a muffled, intense pitch in his mind.
"That card's got like zero attack power, and you're already at almost no
health."
"Doesn't mean I was going to give up."
"How about we wrestle for the victory?"
"Fine."
Sasuke shoots to his feet, as if watching a car crash about to happen, and he
had to stop it. How the laughter rolls like cheers of a mad crowd with Gaara
and Naruto tumbling in some pretend game of wrestling—fighting for some god
forsaken card—and Sasuke clenches his fist.
"Naruto," he calls before he could stop himself. "Come here."
Without hesitation, Naruto scampers to him. There's a peculiar wobble in his
kid brother's gait, but he thinks nothing more of it. He pulls Naruto closer
with more force than he intended, sending his kid brother stumbling to his
chest—the contact instantly heals. Been deprived of it for so long, he anchors
them in this position, to savor. Drawing in the familiar scent, and candied
breath, his lids drooping at the very bombardment of their proximity. And as
Sasuke hugs tightly, he glances furtively at Gaara's piqued expression some
paces away.
"Just tell me how long," he murmurs against the warm neck, "is he staying
exactly?"
A wince passes in the round expression. "A little longer. Not too long."
"I asked exactly."
This time Naruto hangs onto him as if he's about to collapse, panting. "Come
on, S'uke."
"They're already going to be downstairs. In five minutes."
The voice belongs to neither of them. Gaara stands at the threshold, arms
hanging dejectedly at his sides.
And like some diplomat desperate to make amends, Naruto runs to his friend,
waving hands like magic wands. "Sasuke just wanted to know because he usually
goes to his—" The tone drops form sweet to mean. "Girlfriend's house."
Feels his fists quake in ill restrained chagrin. He's about to deny the
accusation, opening his mouth to do so, only for Gaara to wheedle in with
another hustle.
"Sorry...I better go then."
The act's a charm. A charm on his kid brother, who melts into a flurry of
gratitude and regret. He watches the two of them hug each other to near
asphyxiation before Gaara's escorted out to the elevators. From the distance,
hears them say goodbyes, saying they'll miss each other even though tomorrow
they'll meet again.
At this point, Sasuke swoops for his phone, calling the phone company. The
phone records show so many foreign numbers contacting Naruto…who were these
people…he felt nausea steal him away like a riptide. He can't even see the
shore of reason and floats far into this sea of confusion. Upon seeing Sakura's
number in the list of those who called his little brother, he asks himself what
the hell did he allow to happen?
Pacing back and forth across the room, in a wild dance, Sasuke continues
speaking with the company.
"And I can? How would I incorporate parental blocking?"
"Indeed, Uchiha-san, you can apply the setting from your own computer. And
control how strict—"
"And it would work for both television programming and internet?"
"That's correct. You may even put in place curfews or timed disconnects to
limit the quantity as well as the quality your child is getting."
"Can I disconnect several channels right now?"
Suddenly his leg's tackled, Naruto clings and nibbles into his thigh.
"No!" roars Naruto.
Glaring, Sasuke shakes off the wild fox latching. Feels baby canines biting.
Hurt. Goddamned hurts.
Because Naruto digs in, through his pants, "Sasuke stop!"
"Yes although we would need to downgrade you to basic cable. Individual
channels at this point are all included in the package—"
Seems as if Naruto can hear the speakers of the cable customer service. And
shouts loud so the agent can hear:
"Don't listen! He's angry! He doesn't mean it! Don't li—"
Cutting in with confidence, Sasuke affirms: "I want the downgrade to basic
cable."
As if he delivered a blow to Naruto, his kid brother rolls to the ground. Rolls
like a log, singing a sad song, clutching the chest; rolling endlessly until
hitting the wall.
"You will see the changes in your next statement, Uchiha-san. Thank you for
calling customer service."
Hanging up, he sees the dramatic blond little prince sprawled on the floor.
Back turned.
"Get up," he commands.
When Naruto kicks off the floor turning to him, they exchange cannonballs for
glares.
Sasuke's the first to shatter the stalemate of stares. "This is both a
punishment and necessary course of action."
"Punishment?" His kid brother marches furiously from one corner of the
apartment to the other, as if lost to where to unleash the fury. "I'm innocent!
Why am I getting punished?"
"You know why. And now you've lost the privilege to text, call, use the
internet past five. You have one hour maximum, then the internet will shut off.
Only after you finished your homework—"
Snatching and pulling at blond hair, Naruto nearly screams, "But why? I don't
know! Just tell me!"
Sasuke's lips curve sinisterly. "You accuse me of lying? Lying. You lied
to me."
"Oh yeah? How?!"
"Calling Sakura. Hour long conversations without my knowledge? You went behind
my back...that's unforgiveable."
"You went behind my back!" returns Naruto, raising a puny fist. "You went to
her in the first place!"
"She's not my girlfriend!"
"You kissed her, you kissed—"
"Not. My. Girlfriend."
"You went behind my back first, saying I don't even exist. It takes a lot to
forgive you for it, I almost can't."
Clamors. Like small stones raining. The words which echo back: Naruto
threatening to disown him. For one lie: and yet, even if Naruto lied to him, he
could never even imagine leaving. What if Sakura tries to make him look worse
in front of Naruto? He won't forgive me. The thought alone drives a spear
through his chest.
Falling backwards to the sofa, Sasuke finds reprieve in the rock that is his
splayed palm. Burying his face. And the cushions dip, as Naruto takes a seat in
tandem.
"Hey, I'm not done! Why are you hiding me from the rest of the world? You can't
even tell your girlfriend you got a kid brother, why? I'm just a nuisance to
you, is that it?"
"Lying? I'm protecting you, you stupid idiot!"
"Wicko to your excuses, Sasuke—you—you pile of jerks!" Growls are the only
warning, before Naruto smacks him with pillows. "You say you live alone? I
don't exist?"
A lot of anger unleashes. Naruto relentlessly beats him with the pillow. "I
know why." Thwap. Fwup. Bang after bang. "It's cause you really believe you're
alone."
Feathers. Loose and showering. Until Naruto drops the abused weapon, and
chokes.
"And I tell everyone I have you. But you won't even admit you have me...like
I'm nothing...like I'm nothing for you! You treat me as less just because I'm a
kid."
Sense spills like marbles. "No, no you're everything."
He looks up to see a reaction. But instead he's entrapped in the flickering
constellations across a darkening blue expanse, endless. And it was infinitely
fixed to him—even when Naruto would glance away, even when he himself would
turn away. Like a tunnel permanently bridges them.
A thick swallow, the both of them. Until Naruto leans to him, draping like a
blanket.
"Then stop saying you're alone. Promise me you won't lie to me anymore."
When he stays horribly quiet, Naruto crawls onto his lap. A small bum nestles
in the groove of his legs, and familiar arms link around his shoulders.
"Lemme," ready lips drift to him.
Excitement surges. Melts the ice immediately, the depression especially and it
was another narcotically induced slip: Sasuke sways forward to receive.
Invisible winds push them close. Deprived so long, he pleads like a wilting
pale rose yearning for water. He grips Naruto by the shoulders, breathing
heavily with anticipation, shutting eyes, tipping closer. For the collision.
Only to be pecked on the cheek. Cheek. Peck: lasting a second. Evaporating
immediately after. Wasted... dissolves into the wind, into nothing. He could
feel his fingers chase after to no avail; and this was supposed to be the
normal way, the promise to be better...yet desolation. Complete and utter
desolation. Left sitting on a mound in the desert, barren, and still poor.
Naruto pulls back, smiling a little unsure but genuinely.
"Can I...no. It's wrong. I'm wrong—I won't..."
A cold hand squeezes his heart, yet his expression gives nothing away.
"Unless...you say yes. Even a small yes," wisps of a hopeful tune. "Like give
me a time-in, give us a time-out like an off-on button, at least. A lil more."
Nudging noses, almost uncertain, the persuasion continues in a whisper.
"Could be a family game of ours. No one would know."
Waiting for a reaction, and finding none, Naruto droops. And the knife of
Naruto's frown, and words of unforgiveness—point to his throat—and he grasps
firmly this embrace. Like the dream, the broken sharp record of I
hate you, never forgive you. He fights against the threat swaying even in
anticipation for pain. The frosty fingers clamp round his swelling heart,
digging. Crawling from within some depravity...demanding appeasement. So very
close. Inches away.
Needs only a little. And he gravitates attention to Naruto's blushing
ear...speaking when he shouldn't, touching deeper than he should, but worst of
all...
Feeling he's diving in to a pool: bottomless, ever warm, perfect, and the rest
of the world's turning to muffled sounds.
"Tell me Naruto—tell me when I do this, you don't feel sick."
"Sick? Like a tummy ache sick? Like too-much-ramen-and-wanna-puke sick?"
He strokes the soft skin between cheek and ear, earning a whimper from his kid
brother.
"That I make you feel good. Warm inside. Tell me."
Flavored inhales. Breathing in spicy wind when he presses lips over nervously
wet ones. How Naruto's familiar aroma spins the air, spins the mind—cyclones,
to immerse and massage in. Sasuke drifts for the perfect place and rubs
soothingly the small scruff of the neck, reeling them closer. Till they lean
and tumble, lying flat on the couch. Awkward groping until a pace's set, small
claws digging into his back with each wet kiss. His knee spreads the arching
little body beneath, earning a couple scattered moans, lowest to highest
pitches with an electrifying hypnotic taste.
"—feels really—really good. Warm. Better than anything."
And Sasuke deepens the kiss, seeping into the open mouth, warm caverns.
Strangled rumbles escape him, feeling Naruto suck on his lips and he returns
the action with intensity. He's sure seconds go by when he ought to acclimate
to this intensity—but never does the moment come. Like he's biting into a ripe
fruit, and relishing every drop of sweet. Dribble mixes, his heart yowls
endlessly, and he lets Naruto's slow rocking hips touch his own. Their embrace
locks in the shoulders, mouths, and groin and he's too dizzy to even manage a
word or two.
"You're good at this."
Retracting a little, Sasuke pauses ministrations to meet the furrowed gaze.
Beaming up with such ardor, the heat transmits explosively to his own flesh,
and runnels of sweat trail down his spine. Sasuke's head bows, bangs scarcely
shielding from the probing stare, full of expectation.
"What?"
Shivering, Naruto scarcely puts anything coherent. Except through the blushing,
fiery haze, the horn of possessive conviction pierces.
"Like you've got alotta' practice doing this, it feels like."
"Not really."
Together they curl up under the blanket. Escaping and shielding from even the
hollow apartment—sharing a string of warm air, beneath the dark navy tent.
Pulling the blanket over their heads, their lips touching. Escaping from all.
Blond lashes flutter languidly, and brief pecks of their mouths frightens, how
at ease it felt, how perfectly simple but vital. Terrifying him to paralysis,
the feeling of every cell powering at the touch, the feeling of thin, soft legs
entwining in their sprawl.
Embrace rekindles, to hold. An entertainment so wildly burning forever and
never ceasing to turn plain. Deep kisses melt more into exhaustion. As though
heavy bricks strain on each of his vertebrae, he collapses inch by inch,
pressing tightly in desperation, clinging to not fall. Every breath, he's
squeezes the blond mess beside him and his arms dig around Naruto's back. His
shaky breaths turn into stuttering panic.
"Naruto, stay like this."
Naruto throws his head back, peals of sniggers. "You're so serious, it's
funny."
"Listen. Listen to me." Can't hear himself over the roaring laughter—dreaming.
"Being an adult is overrated, I wish I can go back to before…"
But instead of understanding, a chaos of chortles bubbles. "You're telling me
big muscles, and being tall, and having a deep voice that people respect and
listen to isn't awesome? Yeah right! I hate being a kid, no one cares about
what I hafta say, they don't take me seriously. Even you don't."
With adrenaline draining, he buries his nose into the groove of Naruto's neck,
how the rumbles truly rattle every dimension. The hypnotic spell of holding,
only holding, suddenly puts his body into enslaving weariness. As in those
summer nights, holding and laying on the hammock, falling asleep—the way
Naruto's small fingers had curled in his—a trance he could not escape. Not
then, and neither now.
.
.
.
.
For the first month, he's still searching for the perfect work. To still be
able to pick up Naruto and do house chores. But he couldn't find this
convenience; all the laboratories are filled, and the ones open with positions
were too far.
When after cutting unnecessary expenses, he's still short. And the famine
starts. Though the design is he eats less, eats precisely the foods to postpone
hunger the longest, and makes sure Naruto's taking the bigger end of the stick.
Bountiful meals for one, he could afford; but two—now, impossible. And
strangely, he's not so hungry anyway as though watching Naruto devour heartily
bite after bite, provides enough satiation. If any doubts raise, Sasuke'd say
he'd already eaten.
He meant to tell Naruto of the financial situation, especially in regards to
television; but always the admission falls short. Just when Naruto's demanding
expression kills him, words turn to shakes of the head. As if the most shameful
confession, the worst crime on the calendar, would be to admit he's not enough.
With the last ounce of dignity, he merely dismisses the lack of cable as
punishment—a lie after another lie. Punishment. Naruto takes personally,
heartbroken even, apologizing profusely, not for the restoration of favorite
shows, but for the 'spite' to end.
And finally he resolved for a night job, while Naruto was asleep blissfully
unaware, as a bartender in a club from across the street. The first poor
decision.
One night, after tucking in Naruto into bed, he was being followed.
Stalked. Somebody lurking in the shadows, but he shrugs it off as the
silhouette—the same one who's been licking its lips in the sidelines for the
last five years. Another poor decision. He shouldn't have shrugged it off, he
shouldn't have. Because as he's concocting drinks for some raving ladies, he
hears a familiar voice. Two of them. The sea of people, the bustling, he
couldn't see—but hear his dreadful boss.
"You'll find him in the back."
Banging music and lights flare, plugging out sensible sound. But his heart
stops, as he catches just a flicker of that voice.
"Sasuke's there?"
Naruto.
And the glass in his hands slip. To the counter.
"...this way, little boy."
 
 
 
***** The School *****
Chapter Summary
     For the castle of cold distance topples, piece by piece.
Chapter Notes
     A/N: The last chapter before the time skip. (Art isn't by me- I only
     save images to my PC, to ogle at).
     Beta: GoodMorningFlower --thanks so much for your amazing help and
     especially sparking me to continue.
.
.
. 
  
                                        
The glass falls from his hands—to pieces.
Scales of ice spread his skin, and winds of women's perfume poignantly stabs
like gasoline.
The crowd suffocates, and he's the only one trying to leave. Lost. Pulling
through a sieve of people, he follows the voice and light of his existence.
Until all peripheries collapse: his tunnel vision hones on two figures
retreating down the dark corridor, they turn into a room. But before the door
can shut, he kicks it back open.
“Get the hell away from him.”
Naruto beams with ever optimistic blue eyes. “Sasuke!”
Sasuke bolts to Naruto’s side, wedging his brother away from Orochimaru. He
stoops over like a shield, covering the view—the hideous scope of their
whereabouts. How pillories creep in on them like revolting creatures, while
upturned bats of bondage hang from walls. The entire dungeon smells of rotting
plants.
"Whyd'you come here? It's wicko dark. People talk like they're not feelin well,
everyone smells funny enough to make my whiffers bleed."
A part of him revives when the scent of Naruto's candied breaths fill him with
life, as if pouring water to his dry mouth, restoring him.
"Hey, are the girls' lips redder at night or is it me?” says Naruto, scrunching
his nose. “And they're tall like giraffes.”
At this, a wave of dizziness bears down. Naruto followed him in the night to
this hateful place, to bring them home. And just as he clasps their hands
together, Orochimaru scoffs.
“You aren’t leaving so soon, are you?”
Orochimaru’s eyes dart like a wild animal’s, scoping in for prey. Completely
wasted, his boss laughs manically and even plants a sallow face to the wall,
long torso racking with mock ridicule.
“Older brother and single parent. You.” Orochimaru chokes on laughter. “I
thought you were the last Uchiha in this town. But somehow you’re both in my
club, this is my day.”
“This guy’s whacko, we should go,” whispers Naruto to him. 
"Oh but why ruin the party? Let’s drink to old times. Don’t you remember, I
used to be good with your family.”
Sasuke's fist clenches and nearly clips the slime ridden face. "Get out of my
way."
More snide laughter. “Itachi must be out of the country…”
“He’s dead.”
“What a shame! You know, really what a shame. I wanted him in charge—I warned
him—except he was never open to my suggestions…”
Sasuke feels his knuckles turn white. No. Not with Naruto here.
“Let him stay, Sasuke-kun. He puts on a good show of how grown-up he is.”
"But I am grown-up! I'm reincarnated," snaps Naruto, wiggling from Sasuke's
embrace, jumping to the floor in a dramatic thud. "I told you! That in my past
life I was a thousand-year-old fox that destroyed villages—I'm really—actually
older than you!"
Laughing disagreeably, the brute's hammered on ecstasy too, slithering closer
and closer till he can smell the alcohol laden breath. Sasuke's about to launch
off—only then noticing the wicked smile.
"This runt. When did Itachi take this one in? He thinks he's older than you."
The mockery makes him nauseous. Makes him remember the foster mother and
Mizuki, how hateful and critical they were. As if he's the joke for believing
in the ideal world, where he and Naruto drifted in this perfect love, the
perfect utopia. Everyone watches the same way.
"He's not wrong," defends Sasuke. "In fact, I was reincarnated several times."
At this, Naruto clenches up, whipping a confused glance.
"Oh? Pray tell!" urges Orochimaru, in one manic guffaw. "I am already itching
to know your story!"
"I killed you in my past life, right through your heart," he says, feeling
Naruto bristle up.
"Is this how you want to pay back your loan, Sasuke-kun?"
Yet Sasuke stands unflinchingly, turning more into stone.
"I will pay you back.”
The laughter dies. Like an extinguisher smothering all flames, the ridicule
vanishes. With a dropping smirk, the ambiguity did not settle well in
Orochimaru, who steps aside.
The stage disappears, peripheries melt, and curtains creep to end this horrific
circus act. Even as they walk home two blocks together, insanity devours his
senses. He crosses his arms as a wave of shivering passes, this pain like ice
in his joints, in his spirit won't leave him—tremors cackle him into
uncertainty.
He asks Naruto, only to realize nothing in words would salvage, he needed more.
"Tell me." Erratic breaths. "Did he do anything? Did he…did he say anything to
you?”
He feels Naruto turn cold in his embrace.
"When he asked about me. About when Itachi took me in, what—what does that
mean?”
Swallowing thickly, Sasuke murmurs, “I don’t know.”
“I don’t get it. He acted surprised that an Uchiha was in town. I mean, he said
he knew our family but he wasn’t nice to us. He was weird.”
He shushes Naruto. Assurances repeat over and over like a broken fire hydrant,
spilling uselessly while the whole jungle's aflame. That man was on drugs, he
wasn’t thinking straight, he tells Naruto. He feels as if blood's spurting from
his gut. It was as though he cut a piece of himself off just to manage this one
response to Naruto.
The pressure of being on the spot starts to do things to him. Naruto shouldn’t
be getting too involved in his plans. Naruto wouldn’t understand them.
"You can't do this again. You won't."
A furious red spreads Naruto like wild fire, but he sees the doubt flash,
mirroring his own.
"Can't…what…"
At this, he pushes forward, toppling together like connected stacks of blocks.
"Get too involved in my life. Stay out of it, stop following me around. You
go begging for everyone else's attention, trusting anyone who talks to you.
Should I leave and never bother with you again? Since you want everyone so
badly?"
The threat's a dart of poison. Naruto freezes in terror. "I didn’t mean to
snoop. But you keep sneakying off when I go to bed!"
At this he quickly reels them together. His nails dig into soft shoulders and
the wince passing in the beatific features, is a knife driving into his chest.
"So? I hate when you force yourself into my messes. I can’t stand you
sometimes.”
 A stifled sob drowns his senses. Naruto desperately tries to hide the tears
falling as if in shame, turning to bury into the pillow. However Sasuke
wouldn't let Naruto hide. Instead he forces the vulnerability out to the open,
and he harkens to the soft noises as if it were a haunting symphony, the choked
breaths squeeze a fist in his soul.
Shock seizes him by the neck.
To see tears slipping out like jewels, fills him with wealth. He captures one
in his lips, as he kisses round the puffy eyes.
"Stop Naruto.”
"You never told me you took a loan, you said we were fine."
“We are fine.”
“But how are we gonna pay him back?
He shushes the stuttering lips with his own, and the sobs taper off to
congested puffs for air.
"Let me worry about it, that was the plan." He cajoles into the blushing ears.
"Don’t chase me around and I'll make sure they never bother us again."
And it was then he realizes the amplitude of childish gaze, he had been
ignoring. That he's forgetting.
"Who's they S'uke?"
"Everyone that's not you."
Nasally tinged laughter booms, followed by sniveling rocks in his hold,
chirping a fit.
"But that's…that's the whole wide world!"
"Yes, exactly. It’d be nice to get away from it.”
“Like findin’ our own undiscovered island?!”
He pulls back. "We have to find one first."
Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he sits between parted legs. And he traces
dulcet toes, squeezing the doll-like knobs and recalls how he's filed these
nails himself. They soon wiggle as Sasuke gingerly lifts up the ankle, running
the tips of his fingers across. Soft, coarse at some points, but all so
perfect. Once before these ankles had twisted, and he tended for them; yet now
they felt so straight and flexible.
"Naruto, tell me…”
The other ankle, he kisses and tunes out the expectant stare. Only he lets his
lips hover, sparkling Naruto's skin to goosebumps with his heated breath,
filled with endless anticipation.
“Do you remember when we were at the park and you fell off the swing?"
Naruto tenses as if torn between focusing on the question and immersing in the
worship.
"Yeah. I pushed myself too hard," is the stammer, hitching breaths. "Started
swinging up wicko high, as close to the clouds as I could get. And I guess I
wanted to feel what it’s like to fly, so I jumped off mid-air. I broke my
ankle.”
“You thought you could land on your feet like a ninja.”
“But I did land like one. I was gutsy, wasn’t I?”
At this he momentarily pauses, allowing Naruto some consideration. Not much
passes before Sasuke hoists the scrawny ankles onto his shoulders, falling
forward like a tower about to crash. His lips land over the nervous crinkle
between blond brows, then then the forehead, vaguely feeling how once this
swath of skin harbored an unattractive hill, and he'd hold ice packs to it
because Naruto hated touching ice. He rubs a thumb along the healed, seemingly
untouched area.
“Do you remember when I taught you how to shoot? When you shot your first
arrow?”
He earns an affectionate bumble, escaping Naruto like a cough. But not of
sickness, instead, a cough of feeling so filled of air, filled with a surplus
that some of it had to escape.
“Nah-uh. I don’t.”
“Sure you do. You pulled your arrow back, and hit your own face with your
knuckle—”
“Shut up!” roars the other. “I hit the bulls-eye.”
“The only eye you hit was your own eye and your forehead too. But it was your
first time. And I was there for it.”
When he nips at the feverish dimpled cheeks, Naruto stutters. He licks down and
across. Puffy, they were always puffy: when will they hollow out? He almost
tastes the chocolate, the cherry syrup, juice, and the milk which always
managed to spill over perfectly for him to clean.
He grabs at the headboard, the comforter, then the quivering frame spread
beneath him, when dizzy possession suddenly seizes him. Violently seizes him.
The way Naruto's fists dig into his back. And he's desperate to find anything
to grab, to stay afloat, to not sink in the tide of tearing desire.
"S'uke let me stay," whispers into his ear, "with you."
.
.
.
The morning after is a ceaseless drunken stupor.
For something softer and sweeter than silken honeysuckle flowers drapes over,
molding into his form.
They're tangled together trussed in sheets of white. At once he's enraptured at
the sensation, the sight. Brazen, doll-like fingers press over his temple,
their tips immersing into his dark, disheveled bangs. He runs his gaze along
the lithe chord of arm, Naruto's wrist only inches from his lips, baby hairs
bristling at the contact of his breath. His attention traces the bends of the
elbows, to the delicate slope of neck, and at last to lips, composed of soft
peachy flesh.
Naruto's perfectly wrapped around him. The events of last night reel brokenly
in his mind, blurring. And in a drawling breath, he moves his face closer and
closer, determined upon claiming those pink rosebud lips as prize.
What is he doing?
He's only a breath away from capturing when the little self-restraint tears a
low rumbling growl. He shouldn't. He's already letting them sleep side by side.
Now he's crossing a forbidden threshold sharing his bed, with them mostly
undressed, and the rhythm of their safe distance once again collapses and
reverts…to this…
One more kiss. One more taste, one nip would satisfy the endless thirst, the
hunger parching and taking hold his throat. Once more to feel. He would not be
tempted to take more than this, he promises himself.
Shouldn't. He absolutely shouldn't—
"Sasuke…"
Between snores, Naruto mumbles incoherently over his chest and amplifies his
heartbeat. He reaches over and inhales, sharing the same pillow, sharing
everything but this one connection. And the ferocious, gnawing anticipation
burns hot stones to his flesh, sending a tremble down his spine.
He'd watch with longing for extended intervals before slipping out of
consciousness. But as if the need chases him in his sleep, every twenty minutes
he rouses in the same position: always curled in, and lips pressed somewhere on
Naruto's twitching, sleeping face.
The alarm falls on blissfully deaf ears, he slams the snooze time and time
again.
11:34 in the morning. No mercy, the alarm has no mercy.
They stumble, with eyes half-mast. Naruto mumbles something pathetic, about a
dream about them being really reincarnated and they were brothers then too. And
he grumbles in dismissal, but not completely ignoring the fact their gait's
connected, synchronized. If only their heights matched, he's sure they'd fit
completely.
Only in boxer shorts, the sweat on his back cools. And he glances sideways,
finding Naruto in an oversized shirt, modeling it as a dress since it's so
long. Why isn't Naruto wearing his own clothes? 'Armor' again? And yet, not a
sliver of protest forms.
"You're finally lettin us share the bathroom again!" cries out Naruto.
"What else?" he scoffs, as if anything else would be absurd.
That's when Naruto wields the paste in punctuation, waving it like a wand
conducting music.
"No more locking me out like before. Now, one…two…three—"
Loses. He loses their toothbrush contest. Through the squared mirror, he glares
at the perfect radiation, wherein the bright sun penetrates through the open
window and into Naruto lucent smile.
Spitting out water, Naruto says, "I get to stay home with you today."
"Stay," he echoes immediately.
.
.
.
Stay. Like coarse gravel lodging in his veins, everything aches at the thought
of separation. He clings so tightly every morning, and his heart flutters
violently, batting away responsibilities. Just a little more, to stay. No work,
no classes. Four days pass and he can't let Naruto go or leave, and his little
brother obliges, not wanting to go either.
Today's full of play and some chores. Now he's cleaning the ceiling standing
upon a stool with Naruto sitting on his shoulders. Skinny legs flank his head,
crisscrossing over his chest.
"Almost—just a lil more."
Squeezing Naruto's knees, he holds while the other reaches for the stain
overhead. The horrid circle where the smoke detector was once glued to.
"Come on, dobe. Put a little more elbow grease."
Some soap drips as Naruto vehemently scrubs. "I'm tryin jerk! You let it dry up
wacko bad, y'know!"
They sway like the tallest tower in the world. But his smirk dissipates
immediately into an entranced line—as the dripping soap turns dark. A small
viscous puddle forms at the floor.
Naruto climbs off him and proudly wields the mop, spinning the thing as if it's
a weapon in the air like turbines.
"Hey goo—stop lookin at my brother funny!"
After brutally attacking the mess and finally calming down, Naruto squeezes the
rags, pouring its dirty waters into a bucket.
Sasuke creeps up behind, calling out softly. Brushing a questioning caress, he
runs his hands along the frame, feeling the pads of his fingers quiver with
bursting resolve. To have his little brother, to kiss him, to hold him.
Overwhelming desire, quaking his bones, he hardly reigns in.
"I know it was harsh," says Naruto, and still twisting out the water. "But not
as bad when you kill spiders. Hurts me when you do that. At least with the goo,
it's not alive—"
In a quick motion, he hoists up and sets Naruto on the kitchen counter, who
merely blinks at the abruptness. How when Sasuke looms over, their height
difference drastically reduces but not entirely.
"Then I won't touch the spiders." Sasuke leans forward, assertive but not
overpowering. "Not unless you want me to."
Sudden love in his eyes must have rendered Naruto into a blushing mess.
"They're innocent," hazards Naruto. And the high-pitched voice quakes with
question, trembling to his very pulse, Naruto's confusion is his own.
"Of most things."
"And what are they guilty bout? Huh?"
He cracks into a smirk. "Crawling up your nose, I've seen it."
Kicking up his legs, Naruto laughs and it was the best sound he's heard. He
inhales the ripples of electricity, the air vibrates to his heart so that he's
seizing the edges of the counter, hardly restraining the urge to taste.
"But some," he says, "eat their own comrades."
"Why?!"
He forever clings to the momentary grazes of their noses. Nearly do his eyes
drift shut at the bombardment of scented honey, of sweet tart apples; the
fragrance of home, childhood.
"Because sometimes the hunger wins."
Naruto latches on to his shoulders, tipping forward. He can't hear the words
puffing out, something his kid brother says, but the pressure from inside
deafens. And inch by inch, hovering so close he feels himself tear to two. To
take and to save. To feel and to forget. He brushes rose-leaf lips with his
own, not yet colliding but to feel its existence; parallel lines never meant to
cross, and the violent consequence holds him down in chains.
He savors the dewy light contact; a spatter of water to his ever thirst.
But hours spill drop by drop over the edge, and he already frantically misses.
Even though they're side by side, he feels the longing set him aflame again.
When they do laundry together, when they argue over spilled detergent, when
they fight over a missing sock, an infection of wanting churns. An electric
impulse to dig his fingers in the mess of blond, and wring them close. Images
of him dabbing whispers into blushing ears, their inside jokes would ignite
Naruto into rocking laughter, reels all too often, and all too slowly—never
burning out, but instilling an inextinguishable arousal.
Aching, not for a second dulling, he feels nerves untangle and align with
making every single whim come true. However on their way from the basement and
laundry rooms, someone's watching and always commenting in the elevators.
Always someone. Asking how Naruto managed to be so cute, how old Naruto was,
what Naruto wants to be when he grows up. It angers and exhausts him: to know
so many people fixed their eyes, set their sights.
Jealousy bubbles, and once everything's folded in the drawers, he rests on the
divan as the television runs absently in the background.
With Naruto nestled in the cradle of his thighs, he types into his laptop. His
focus is a searchlist of homes out in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere on a
cliff, overlooking the rest of the city. He'd never have to bear any comments
in the elevators, never have to answer to anybody.
"They're takin over…no…they can't…"
Mumbling into the inner groove of his leg, Naruto rambles again, muddle-headed.
"S'uke…we hafta stop them!"
He looks up. The screen flashes a montage of deadly squids, causing his kid
brother to quake with resolve, nodding vehemently against him.
"Y'see they're multiplying too fast," Naruto parrots the narrator. "The school
doesn't teach us 'bout this!"
He folds his laptop and grumbles lowly. "You mean about life? The real world."
"Yeah and you weren't paying attention but I just found out. That momma sharks
eat their own babies" continues Naruto brokenly. "The school didn't tell us
that either!"
Misery distorts the air, suffocates him. His kid brother's whimpering without
even realizing it, biting at the nails in anxiety.
"How could they eat something that's so innocent?" cries out Naruto.
At once he sets aside his computer. The frown controls him, the despair is like
his own. And Sasuke pulls the sagging shoulders, coaxing them closer, before
giving a light massage; kneading behind the ears instantly has Naruto relaxing
under the pampering touch.
"The mothers do it for a reason," he finally says, with a trickle of twisted
humor.
"Explain!" roars Naruto in his hold.
"They can sniff out diseases probably, they can sense which of those eggs won’t
survive or make it. Maybe they eat the eggs because they’re hungry. Survival on
a very basic level, is innocent in of itself. It's instinct, Naruto."
"But if wanting to live means hurting someone else—then those instincts are
bad."
He's silent, and Naruto further rebuttals.
"I know it's the ecosystem. The teachers said the cheetah has to eat those
beasties. Those beasties eat the grass, and the grass gets the sun. But what I
don't get—is the pain I always feel when I see one animal eating another. If
it's so right, why does it hurt so much?"
"Because you put your feelings into it. You make it into a story. It's not."
"It is."
"It's not. The smiling fish in your idiotic cartoons are made up of human
sentiments. Biased. The cheetah's evil looking to you, while the snail has a
deep slow voice. Your feelings get in the way of interpreting what's actually
going on."
"All my cartoons are centipede free—"
"Sentiments, moron. Not centipedes."
"Sentiments!" coughs Naruto, now glaring. "That's what I said, jerk. Are you
saying my feelings are wrong? You always say that."
Just when he scoffs, and turns away, Naruto explodes in declaration.
"Don't roll your eyes at me!"
"They don't know any better, they're all innocent," Sasuke presses on,
returning to the former topic. "They function the way they're programmed to,
without even the power of knowing why."
"And if they knew why? Could they stop themselves? Like if those momma sharks
knew it was their kid, you think why would win over instinct?"
He pauses in thought. Only for Naruto to excitedly straddle him. "Like robots.
They don't have a will right, they just do what they're programmed to!
But I think if a robot tried really really hard—"
"Are we talking about robots or animals?"
"Both!"
"Stick to one variable at a time, dummy." And after a long moment of
consideration he says, "I don't know."
"Imagine. Then that'd be worse. If they knew…and went and ate their
babies…knowing it was their own. It makes me want to beat up instinct, and put
it in time-out, in the corner—kinda what Iruka-sensei always does."
Raising up, he's on alert. "Always? He always puts you in the corner?"
"I was just—I was kiddin!"
After a moment of consideration, he proposes. "What do you think about getting
homeschooled?"
"Really! Really?"
"I don't trust inadequate teachers to you." He pays little heed to the
sparkling affection, bursting from the other.
A dimpled grin spreads the cherub's face. And he'd watch, with a kindling
appetite to lick the smile as if it were powdered sweet. He fights the craving,
but it's fighting to keep his eyes closed, to look away, and he couldn't. He
reaches lightly, hooking their faces close, and kisses the corners of the
snickering mouth.
Immediately skittish, Naruto giggles at the intensity saying it tickled.
Sasuke savors the mirth, innocence like liquid sunlight to his depleted heart.
Still there. No one could steal away. Warmth laughing in his blood, laughing in
his gut: the essence of summer from the bumbling lips.
The taste of please, of his own name hit like spices to his gums. Gently he
parts the supple mouth with his tongue exploring, as if to a pace of mellow
wind chimes. He tumbles them slowly, producing not even a creak of the couch,
as positions are reversed. The sun's sinking in a setting sky, here and
outside. Feels Naruto arch and collapse underneath…he needs to stop now, but
the view's imprisoned him.
A little dribble seeps out the corner of those peach lips, and he stares with
restraint disappearing.
He lowers to reclaim the droplets, licking until he steals a tender kiss,
setting a chain reaction. Initial sparks bead a path of gold glitter splashing
his senses. Mind numbing. Can't hold back the moan threatening to erupt, or
resist swallowing Naruto's confused gasps. How far from chaste, and yet he
relishes the aroma of sweet devotion. Hates himself for opening. For travelling
this forbidden tunnel between them.
"S'uke…"
Like tasting cotton candy dissolving far too quickly, wants more. More, soaking
the light. He pleads for entry, distracting with suckles to the delicate, now
swollen lips, watching through fluttering lashes, how Naruto flinches in ill-
restrained pleasure.
"I feel weird…" murmurs Naruto, panting.
He knew. The pressure building lower and heat pools. He could feel his kid
brother's arousal.
"Ignore it."
Flushing, Naruto draws a shaky long breath, playing the most vulnerable tune.
"But how. Why? It…it feels good."
"Because I said so. It'll go away."
The ideal. For it to go away. The slums and darkened corridors of their
beautiful world—to not exist, to ignore it all.
"S'uke…"
In shallow sways, Naruto raises his hips up, begging for contact. For some kind
of relief or pleasure.
And a rush of power curls in his gut, a familiar hardening ache. Naruto would
let. He knows it, and he'd make something trembling and exquisite. He'd give
Naruto everything, he'll quit his whole life, and make them feel good. And at
first he continues, setting his fingers across edges, in a hover. He sips from
a fountain of puckered lips, on and on, filling him with wealth in the slowest
ascension.
But not without the burning hatred, he can barely keep out his voice. And with
a swift motion he slides lower, completely pinning the other down.
"I can't…no more…" he repeats, now a mantra he breathlessly tries to remind
himself.
Immediately, the other slows his rolling hips. Naruto seems stricken, lifting
up his head in bewilderment.
"Did I hurt you? Is it bad? Am I in trouble?"
Hurt him, as if. Naruto could rake claws deep, slam him around, and all the
gore he'd be fine with it.
"Yes," he lies.
And when Naruto grabs his wrists to force the forbidden attention, he refuses.
"But you have it too," growls, torn between pleading and confusion.
He hates how vile he is when the desire continues to linger, wanting to kiss,
but anything more drives him mad with dread. Enough to stop him cold,
completely cold. It wasn’t supposed to go this far. He can’t enjoy it without
hating it at the same time, it was the guilt, but it was also something more.
The graphic dream he had was enough to show him that he didn’t want Naruto in
that way.
Just what then did he desperately crave for? The dichotomy splits him painfully
in this war of longing…
He longed so deeply for the soaring feeling of a world they'd always transport
to, for the high, the sweet unconditional love muting the harsh traumas of
reality. But he didn't understand the intangible mass of ice lodging inside, as
if any further, any more would be to devour a barbed rose, would be to drink
the whole ocean, would be to intoxicate himself beyond a point of no return.
He wanted relaxation, not intoxication.
He pulls away, losing the will to continue.
"What! Am I gonna go to hell?" Actual panic flares in those blue eyes. "I knew
it! I'm not supposed to feel…so weird…it's so good, too good. I thought I—"
"You're not going to hell..."
Naruto stares at him with a demanding expression as if to explain more.
He can feel the air vibrate with why. But he doesn't tread deeper. He doesn't
know why, what he's doing even.
Eventually Naruto forgets entirely, or at least pretends to, crying out
occasionally in reaction to the deadly squids. He forgets too. The montage was
frightening, scarier than any horror film he's seen. And Naruto says they ought
to stop the balance from tipping, if they ever planned to swim in the ocean or
go fishing. But before he can explain they'd never swim in a sea like that,
Naruto falls asleep in his arms, snoring animatedly.
..
.
Because the balance's really tipping, and the virus spreads. The reeling images
of a sickening world, and how Naruto said to do something—
He had to go back. Some animal threatened to take it all away, to soil the
perfection.
"Sir?"
Right when his semester ended, he sported a sling and cast on his broken arm.
His eye was badly bruised, like he'd been trampled by a couple mean horses and
alive to tell the story. But it was nothing. Weeks passed, and flesh wounds
healed.
"Sir if you don't plan to purchase—"
Now he half expects the police to storm into his apartment with a warrant, or
something. For attempted murder. He'd gone back multiple times while Naruto was
in class.
He'd leave the school, go to the bar, and Orochimaru's sober each time and
twice his size. Hideous cronies had removed him out once, devil's mutants
hooking and pulling at him like tentacles. They dragged him away from
Orochimaru's jeering grin, and he returned home with a broken arm and bruised
face, but a sickened heart. And then the second visit, the nights after, even
with a cast on, he planned to finish the job, only for Orochimaru to cowardly
leave behind a gang. He almost couldn't walk after being jumped by three
animals at once.
But Naruto harbored a betrayed demeanor—when he'd meet his brother at the
school. Naruto put him on probation. Probation. Taped the cracks of all the
windows, taped him to the bedposts, anything to anchor him at home, to not go
back to Orochimaru. Naruto forced him to promise.
"—would you kindly step out?"
Pain's focusing his world again. When the scene at the nightclub, replays over
and over again, and he doesn't want to work anymore. Doesn't want to work
anywhere. He wants to stay by Naruto, all the time. He promised. In the end,
he'd stay, and not go back.
"I need security," murmurs the clerk into a phone receiver. "Person causing
trouble."
"For Christ's sake, I'll shove the twat out the way," growls someone from
behind.
Sasuke feels his fingers twitch, scarcely coming to life.
"I already called security," assures the clerk. "They'll handle this situation.
Please—"
The impatient animal rockets forth anyway. And as if sensing the gusts from
behind, Sasuke sidesteps. He dodges the bull whose nostrils flare, who's ready
to launch again.
"I was thinking," says Sasuke.
And he may as well have raised a red cloth, for it could have easily passed as
a smart comment. But his tone's monotonous, flat, and he actually meant it too.
"Think about your small dick somewhere else," flips the boy, who has waited
five minutes, and in that time grown demonic horns. "I got somewhere to be."
"For the sake of the world, I hope that place's a slaughterhouse."
"What'd you say to me?"
Security barges into the scene, right when the animal charges again. They don't
even glance Sasuke's way, instead hooking and escorting the brute out the
store.
"But it was that prick! Not me!"
Ignoring the commotion, Sasuke turns to the unnerved clerk. "Marlboros,
double." He whisks his gaze across the candies. "And this—" Holding the edge of
the wrapper, he dangles. "How much?"
"Ring pop. That's a dollar."
"Alright. And this?"
Now, an unspeakable amusement flashes in the clerk. "Push pop. Dollar twenty
five."
"I'll take it all."
Counting out the dough, he pays and passes his ID. And without another word, he
leaves behind a whispery crowd of the supermarket.
He slows in front of the elementary school. Cigarette tipping at the edge of
his mouth, he fumbles for his cellphone and lighter. And letting it crisp on
his lips, he reads some texts. In fact his bank flashes him with delightful
news for once. Having written a letter to his anonymous benefactor, wherein he
described the urgent state and happenings as of late, he finds his account's
deposited with unusual, inordinate stipends. It's generous, but temporary
relief.
"You! Are you mad? Kids are around—will be around soon. You can't smoke here!"
Yet again the same lady, all red hairs flaring on end, marches over. Without
once looking up, he scrolls through his phone, reading the news. He lets out a
low grunt at her call.
"I was leaving," he tells her.
"Wait. Hold on a second. Just stop!"
He turns, glancing up with remote interest.
She lifts up her glasses, as if to amplify her penetrating scrutiny.
"My name's Karin," she says. "I'm a student-teacher. Usually I stick around and
wait for my colleagues. And in the many occurrences we shared, I realize you're
always picking up your little brother. You must obviously live together."
"And?"
A cloud bursts from his mouth, right into her bewitched expression. Her cat
eyes widen, before she blushes furiously, batting the smoke.
"Do you do this around him?"
When he eyes her appraisingly, she lowers her glasses, which glare under the
sun.
"I hope you have good filters at home," she tells him, shuffling from foot to
foot. "Because second hand smoke's dangerous. Especially for young'uns! They're
developing still, and you're exposing him to all that."
"He never complains."
"Must really love you then!" quips Karin. "The fumes are unbearable for any
non-smoker. And it's awful. You're killing him, you know that?"
Instantly, the words render him hyperconscious. "I don't let him near me. Not
all the time."
"Well if you won't quit for your sake, then maybe for his, is what I was
hoping!"
He turns away. "No one's asked you."
The shy spring winds raise, and his hair runs wildly. His coat billows.
Eventually he spits out his bangs because they dab in his mouth; and the next
drags of his cigarette are slow and deliberate. Naruto would tell him if
something's wrong. Would tell him everything. His kid brother's a loud mouth,
always announcing when it's time to run to the bathroom, always letting him
know what's on the mind.
And each time he kisses lips swollen from attention, ambrosia to his
palate—Naruto returns wholly. Never complaining of ash.
From across the street, kids holler in happiness. Their brightness like
iridescent bubbles, a show to watch. But a storm, a terrible storm darts
overhead as if by sorcery.
Viciously like bats, birds familiar to his memory fly overhead. His eyes follow
every violent flap of their wings—and he dreads that this is the same flock
from before. The black winged pilot's missing, he can't find him anywhere. Even
as he bends his neck to squint more, he's sure. Sure of it. The chief's missing
and the formation's scattered. Why are they still here? His jaw tightens at the
streaming dance of wings, now chaotically whirling above; his throat
constricts.
And he feels a feather fall, tapping his shoulder.
"—needa have a form signed for school, for a field trip tomorrow. Oi? S-
Sasuke?"
Naruto's jumping to grab his shoulder, and he deflects the startling touch.
"When is the last day of school?" he asks wildly. "Shouldn't it be over
already?"
Hurt flashes the darkening cobalt eyes, but Sasuke misses the gleaming pain.
Instead he flicks his cigarette to ashes, as Naruto answers.
"Next week. July 27th is the last day."
"That's longer than usual," he says suspiciously.
Naruto sighs, heavily and visibly fights off depression's cracks.
"That's cause the school year started late. A whole week late."
When he moves to snatch the backpack, Naruto growls.
"Give it to me, moron. I don't want you to carry anything heavy."
Canines pop out like swords unsheathing, his kid brother's hairs raise. "Wicko
to you S'uke! It's your birthday! The only thing I'm giving you is a present,
not my backpack!"
He freezes. And he stares without realizing how much pours out his widening
gaze.
"It's not today, is it?" he breathes in stupor. Until finally at last, a firm
scowl sets in. "Don't be stupid, it's a regular day. Give me your bag."
Naruto wrinkles his nose, shaking his head in anger. "It's not stupid, can't
believe you. You always forget. Your own birthday—and I try so hardy-farty to
make it special, you keep forgettin—"
Without any more funny business, he wrestles the backpack off the small
shoulders.
"—but you won't forget this time."
Interlocking into a hold, they walk home. Naruto grabs the brown paper bag
though from him, pulling out the ring pop with extreme delight and begins to
suckle on it.
Curiosity begins to eat Sasuke alive.
"What do you mean I won't forget 'this' time?" he asks. But he doesn't want to
sound too excited, because he wasn't. "Not that I've forgotten the other times.
You know how I lose track of dates during phases."
"Cause you were too busy with Oro-wacko-roo. Getting beat up and stuff—but you
promised me you wouldn't go back."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
Sasuke blinks. "You said you had a present."
"Yeah. An unbelievable present.'
"So?"
"So what?"
"Where is it?"
But Naruto's enjoying this far too much. And playing with the ring pop, laughs
and licks.
"It's so good I can't even say. Like those butterflies sittin on your hair
can't handle it." When Sasuke looks up, he swats the monarch butterfly off his
hair. And his kid brother's muffled chuckles, nearly renders incoherency. "I
hafta show you, that's how good it is. Not even words can describe."
When they're at home, Sasuke glares demandingly.
"Tell me. Now."
His breath hitches with anticipation as Naruto stoops to the ground, digging in
a backpack. What was it?
In that moment, when all else blurs, and his heart thuds with excitement,
Naruto hands him a….clipboard with a pen.
"Because this present's so good," announces Naruto a little arrogantly, but in
an aristocratic way. "You have to fill an application for it! So sign your
name, age, favorite color, favorite food—"
"Idiot…"
"—favorite ninja, favorite drink, favorite color on opposite day—"
He fills out every box though. Secretly enjoying this stupid game.
"—you have five minutes to write a description of where your favorite place is.
Without actually sayin where and what it is—you just describe it! Ready, set,
go!"
The treehouse they built. He describes the view from it, and the woody smell.
"Okay now sign on the bottom, right there!"
Sending a skeptical glance, Naruto assures. "Just cause I love your pretty
signature, Sasuke! That's all! I'm your number one fan, please please!"
"Very funny. Fine." Wasn't as if there's fine print anywhere. "There, moron.
I've signed it. Now what?"
Naruto gestures for him to sit, to close his eyes, and to wait.
Halfway through the instructions, he's grumbling. "Just what is it. Tell me
already." Sasuke closes his eyes, listening to the excited footsteps. "Get on
with it."
He sits impatiently on the divan. And the moment he feels Naruto mount his lap,
he fights the instinct to collide into an embrace because their chaos always
revives him. However he continues to sit completely still, his back stiffening
when Naruto's warm whisper grazes his cheek.
"Open your eyes."
"I see…" he whispers, searching for anything. "Only you."
Naruto blinks, but smile intact. "Yeah me. Are you ready? Get ready."
"What do you think this is? Me not ready? I've been waiting this whole—"
He's cut off, as Naruto thrusts a slip of colored paper into his hands.
"That's for you. I love—love—you big jerk!"
He'd read it, but Naruto's light rivets his full attention. "What…what is
this?"
"Coupons. That only work on me. See this one's for an hour massage, that one's
for an all-day massage—and this one's the most powerful one—this coupon here
says I'll be your slave for the day, and here's one that says I'll be your
slave for a whole week! So use that one wisely."
He narrows his gaze, finally perusing the boxed promises.
"And! They don't expire. You can use it today, or 'morrow. Or whenever and
ever. I can be your butler, your anything, no fighting back. I'll do anything
you want."
On the back of the leaflet, there's some fine print.
"Oh that just says…you can't stack the timed massage coupons together. Cause
you know that'd be lame. This is serious business. I'll drop everything if you
say you wanna use it."
He considers for a long moment before folding the paper, and pocketing it, he
mutters a thanks.
However, as if he's lashed a whipping, Naruto winces. "B-but I worked hard on
the doodling and coloring," is the complaint, voice squeaking terribly, "did
you even look at it? You never notice my hard work!"
"I said thank you, didn't I?" he growls. And he did sound annoyed, but not for
the reason Naruto thought.
"You hate it. You hate centipedes, you hate my present—"
"—sentiments, not centipedes—"
"—you hate me!"
Immediately, as if to calm a flustered pet, he steals the scruff of Naruto's
neck.
"I like it." He drawls, even forcing Naruto to lie on his back. "Didn't you say
these little promises of yours never expire?"
"Yeah, but…if you like it so much you'd use one now."
He rolls on top of the small form, keeping both arms bound over a blond head.
"I'd much rather save them."
"Why? Just use it now!" cries out Naruto, turning red, whipping his face side
to side.
"You sound desperate to be my slave," he says humorously. "I wouldn't mind."
"Maybe—no! I like—well—I have dreams about it—and imagine it sometimes. How
you'll punish me if I'm bad and stuff." Some boyish pride veils the hidden
pleasure. "But it's pretend. Kinda. Forget it!"
"You say my name when you sleep," he murmurs. And grazing his teeth over the
hot neck, he feels little apples of the throat beneath his touch swaying in
response. "And how would I punish you? You're never bad, I couldn't. It's hard
for me even to pretend."
"But you took away cable before! And what if I did something very very bad?
What if I walked to school by myself, without you?" Naruto mischievously grins,
especially when Sasuke tightens his hold. "What if I played dice games again?
What if I ran away?"
"I despise these jokes. Stop."
"Cause I like it when we play cops and robbers, S'uke. I'll let you be cop this
time—and I'm your prisoner—and—"
The nightmare from before trickles in, fragment by fragment and, he feels
himself crumble from within. He pulls back, but before Naruto can protest or
question—the doorbell rings.
Leaping for the distraction, Sasuke bolts for the door. He looks through the
peephole before opening entry.
"Delivery for Uchiha Sasuke, and—Naruto," says the man, who holds a
suspiciously large package.
"That's me. Who is this from?"
"Please sign," answers the uniformed man, handing him an electronic pad and
pen. "Let's see—looks like from a—a Haruno Sakura—"
"No. I refuse. Return requested."
He's about to slam the door, but Naruto vaults like a track star on a mission,
blocking the way.
"Mister! I'm Naruto! I'm co-leader, vice president here—can I sign?"
Instantly, the man laughs, sparing Sasuke one of those 'your kid's adorable'
look. But the irony was that it was all true, a ten-year-old half at least half
the time called the shots in this house. And when Naruto's handed the pen and
pad, Sasuke feels his sense dwindle.
As soon as the door's shut and the delivery man's out of earshot, he raises his
voice.
"It's from Sakura," he says as if that was explanation enough. "I don't want
that in my house."
But the package's dragged deeper into his home, with Naruto clipping away the
box.
"You dunno what it is!" retorts the other. "Aren't you curious? It's your
birthday…and it said it's for me too, jerk."
"No I'm not curious. I know exactly what this is. And you'll pick up the trash
and throw—"
"No way, oh shucks, oh stars, no!" The explosion of joy is unchecked, as Naruto
shoots up and dances. "Sasuke! Sasuke look! It's the PlayStation, uh I think x,
or maybe XYZ, eh—who cares it's the newest one! Is it—is that real? Closing my
eyes now, if it's still there I'm gonna cry!"
His anger's overshadowed by the surreal lava and spouting fiery plumes of
happiness.
"We can actually play games together! We can go online and duel people! We can
duel each other! I always wanted this!"
Naruto leaps around the thing as if it's some magnificent bonfire. But it was
just a large box that needed unpacking, and while his kid brother unloads the
contents, an emerald envelope slips out. He opens the letter, with Naruto
obliviously setting up the PlayStation in the background (to little avail,
Naruto had a hard time assembling a jigsaw puzzle).
"Dear Sasuke,
After our last meeting, I found no relief in the absence of you, and no comfort
in having brought up your personal history. I acted out of line, I believe this
truly so:
Our friendship isn't meant to be thrown away by misunderstandings. Your little
brother especially pointed this out. Enjoy your time together.
Happy Birthday—
—his lip curls in disdain. She's found an anchor to attach herself to—Naruto
let her in. She doesn't care or love him. Why would she? What is there to love?
He can't trust her.
"Throw it out."
His voice is cold, chilling the room.
Even Naruto shivers at the tone. "But please? Let's use it. Please…"
"It probably has recording devices, bugs. I don't trust anything from her."
Naruto snatches his wrist for punctuation. "Are you hearin yourself!" Then
stomping the foot, to exclaim, "It's your birthday. Let people give you the
chance to be happy! Everyone's love is different! She likes you in her own
way—even though you're too busy for a girlfriend because you got me, heh—plus
all my teachers from last year, love you from parent teacher conference. You're
easy to like—"
"I don't know why or how."
"—I know. I know why! Because even though you act like you're made outta
stone—you have more centipedes than me. I know it. That's why you like to say
I'm wrong—that we should stop. Cause you know what it's like to feel full of
centipedes! It hurts!"
Immersing to the passionate sermon, his heart flutters.
Only when he breathes again, he says calmly, "If I have to correct you one more
time..."
"What? I said it correct. I pronounced it right!"
"Usuratonkachi."
Slipping past, he ruffles the hair. And he tries. Opens and he samples the
poisonous joy, wrapping into Naruto's persuasive air. After setting up the
video game console, his kid brother perches into the cradle of his arms, and
they play some fantasy realm, and they're on opposite alliances until they
finally face off.
LOSER! Flashes across the screen. His screen. And he feels his nerves twist
with aggravation.
Even he stares in disbelief. "I've…lost."
Losing rips him out this dimension, leaving him breathless and leaning back
until he sees straight again. What if the fight itself was pointless? What
difference did it make, he would be here fighting with himself or here with
Naruto and reaping every second of it. The ending! The end would be the
same. They would be together. It would be the happiest ending Itachi never gave
him.
"And I win!" cheers Naruto, having slashed for victory. "Or—or you purposefully
lost!"
He snaps up. Flipping them over like a sunken ship in storming tides, he
snatches under the blankets as cushions dip below, the ground foundering so
quickly, so suddenly. But he holds his kid brother's waist firmly. Small bones
perfectly fit in his hands, every part jewels and precious, he always feels
he's winning—even when he loses—and he'd never let go.
"No, I'll admit it. You win this one."
Naruto wrinkles his nose, squirming stubbornly. "You're sweatin…you're all
red—are you sick again?"
"Yes," he says, "I want you."
The dimpled smile wavers, ready to fall apart.
"Why does that make you sick?"
"Because I want to stop, to keep far back, and I can't…erase it."
Flushing deeply, Naruto looks away briefly before shining at him with
unbearable hope.
"So does that mean…I can cuddle with you again? I can sleep with you? You won't
kick me out your bed, right?"
More of affirming silence and Naruto beams, tipping up, and outstretching
puckered lips.
"And you'll let me do this—so long no one's watching…"
It hurt to even think to stop. It hurt to stay in the dark any longer and he
lets this kiss warm, lets it grow like flowers fully bloomed and heated up in
the day's sun. Laughter swirls in his mouth and overpowers, inducing momentary
amnesia, who he was, why he's here, only when they fit this way he feels
enslaved, chained, and soaring all at once.
And at some point they fall to the floor, tickling, and pulling at each other.
Then the walls. He brings Naruto to flat submission against the hallway, right
under the family portrait. The glass part of the frame shakes at the intensity
of their embrace and his fondling. He longs to hear Naruto cry out his name, so
much he panics as if it were a race, and he wants to shred this temptation to
pleasurable oblivion. Every nick of his teeth digs in to the lifeblood of
desire, and his hands like stray parts have a mind of their own, coaxing the
boy beneath to spread and surrender.
The neck stretches back involuntarily, and he suckles on the column of flesh,
hearing Naruto flustered, stammering in writhing intervals.
"It tickles—"
It was swaying lonesomely in the rattling iron vaults of his memory now—the
hammock they'd have slept on.
"Say time-out," he says hoarsely, as if barely out this spell. "Tell me stop."
…the treehouse long abandoned. The fire Itachi turned over, cold. Felt so cold,
and paling—
"No."
The icy caverns within, rumbles with energy. He retracts from the soft skin,
now marked with red lovebites. What has he done? Nerves numb, and the blood's
draining to his cracking heart.
"You enjoy this type of torture? Look at what you're letting me do to you!"
He's shouting. He feels the reverb. Then the quiet.
And right under his lips, Naruto's little throat bobs in nervous consideration.
"I wanna feel what you feel."
He only realizes now. The thin legs wrapped around his waist, the bony ankles
squeezing into his back and how far up the wall he's pushed Naruto up. He's
sickened, he's alive. Sharp pain lances up, he's weak in his breath, but every
nerve stronger than steel. He runs his hands into the blond hair, curls
splaying against the white wall, meeting the haze in Naruto's blue eyes.
Clouds. His own clouds of doubt mirrors off, mocking.
"I can't."
"But I—I love y—what!" The doughy cheeks inflate in despair, brows aquiver.
"You don't…like me? I'm not pretty like her, is that it? Or cause I don't have
a job…or anything…I can't actually do anything to make our dream come true…I'm
poor."
He's dropping to his knees, with Naruto falling with him. Under him. Beaming
with lasers lancing through his soul, every chest rise and fall is a
questioning breeze.
He hated his love, he hated himself, and he hated the complete control Naruto
had over him. The lips he'd seize, never enough to quench the desperation.
"I never had an appetite for anything," he muses darkly. "Except for one, the
one thing I long for isn't even ripe…"
"What!" angrily demands Naruto, jealousy brimming.
"You, you're my—my little brother. You're like the newly born the mothers
eat…you're the object of my instinct."
Immediately the escalated anger crumbles. Naruto breaks into cacophonic
giggles, torn between frustration and mirth.
"But Sasuke!" is intoned, like a crescendo. "You're not eating me or killin me!
I wanna cuddle—I'm sayin it's okay!"
The booming laughter wraps round his shivering frame, blankets of heat.
Unbelievable, comforting. And he vaguely feels little claws scratch at his
sides. He wants this. Wants to be so close, that the frozen hills shatter to
dust, the icy crystals encapsulating every memory grinds to white powder.
"Tell me why," he murmurs, into the bristling nape of the neck.
…like the pure white snow fluttering to quiet, his shadows reframe and recess
away. Feels the hunger wane when Naruto chuckles then smiles knowingly.
"We make each other better," assures Naruto, stretching back. "You know I'd get
a hundred on my test just so you could kiss me."
He buries completely under the round jaw like a frozen soldier dying for flame.
At the clinging gesture, Naruto feels encouraged to continue. "Let's see…when I
sleep next to you, the bad cat spirits leave you alone. And you scratch me to
sleep. When we cuddle I don't care bout thunderstorms because you can control
lightning—"
On accident, a ridiculing chortle leaves his lips, tickling Naruto's neck.
"—and when you get mean and go into jerk mode, I can make it go away. All it
takes is a hug."
Sasuke sweeps his mouth, grazing gently for the perfect start. Pressing his
lips to a slender shoulder, he buttons each breath with a seal of affection.
Soft kisses trail along the slope of the neck, pacing slower like his drawn out
inhales, and Naruto flexes his knees in visceral reflex. He can't think
properly, as if he scarcely evaded dark possession.
"S'uke…will you let me go tomorrow? To the school? Iruka-sensei said for the
field trip…you have to sign it…you have to say yes…"
"We'll go," sinking deeper, "together."
For the castle of cold distance topples, piece by piece. The abandoned house
they had run from, which time has long worn down was too far away, it had
frozen him with loneliness. No longer sitting on slabs of ice, waiting for the
revival or return, he lets this embrace promise him.
.
.
.
Iruka leads the whole class to a plant nursery, down the labeled rows, soon
hitting strong smells of trees and pollen. And all the pairs of kids with moms
await eagerly for the objectives.
"The highlight of course is this," announces Iruka, gesturing at all the
varieties and species of phytes. "In collaboration with Park services, due to
the state funded project of restoration...we have a whole plot of land
attributed to us. Each pair will select the tree they'll plant...then once
everyone here's set, we can all head to the site!"
And with that, eager private conversations competed the air. Sasuke scarcely
maneuvers round the fueled mothers, leading them to their first possible
choice.
"Maple indigo nose Kaede," Naruto reads the name.
"Maple indigenous, moron," he corrects.
"I said that!" Naruto continues with the profile. "Turns all colorful in the
fall. We should do this one."
Sasuke yanks them further down to examine. Sakuras, plums, lotus, shrubs of
frill buds and fully blossomed flowers, but he keeps moving down. Together
along the aisle, passing shorter and shorter trees, until they hit a bag of
seeds.
"But this one's not even born yet," complains Naruto, looking up with ruffled
curiosity.
Somehow, this entices him more so. "Read the description," he says, hoping for
the other to catch on.
"Says…pine tree…what a snooze," drawls Naruto unhappily. "Grows two feet per
year, gets up forty feet tall—Sasuke this doesn't get colorful. Wacko if I
don't get my way with this one, all it's ever gonna be is—the same lookin. Come
on let's get Kaede's indigo nose!"
"Exactly, the same. Evergreen, Naruto. They never lose their leaves."
At this, Naruto lowers the brochure. "Really? Oh—that's right! Wait, why is
that good?"
"It will endure the winters and grow."
"So while everyone else's trees get all ugly, ours would be full of life?!"
Most pairs selected some sakura blossom sort, and others went with more mature
variants of majestic barks. Yet, in the end he and Naruto chose the youngest,
and what seemed the most mundane of all, a matsu unborn that even Iruka
questions with concern.
"You're sure? I'll get some of the park's supervisors to check and assist—but
you're sure?" asks Iruka, ready to mark down their final answer.
Naruto huffs, flourishing a dismissing hand. "Course we're sure, this is the
best. Can we go now?"
They and the whole class walk some paces up to a marked off plateau. Fertile
soil's around them like a sea, and somehow they win the center section; for
Naruto leaps to it like a springing superhero and reserves it for their new
project. And when excavating the soil together, they meet in the eyes, kneeling
and getting in elbow power.
In an opportune moment, Naruto crawls forward, swiping their noses in quick
affectionate sways.
As if by hypnosis, Sasuke falls forward to feel more. A haunting skitter of
pleasure runs up the back of his neck, at the brief touches, he can't feel
anything else. He wholly inhales the fumes of the earth, the lake's upwind
breeze, and harkens to the chimes in the distance, the bicycle horns, and the
angry billowing blades of grass.
"Would you for once concentrate on the task at hand?" he growls, but empty of
threat.
"But I am, I am concentrating." A strange, robotic pitch. "You look so pretty
S'uke…no wonder all my classmates are starin at you."
"What classmates? You're the only person I see here."
Naruto laughs, but he was either really blind or he was getting worse. He
couldn't remember the names of people—and now he can't see people. The only
human he sees is his little brother and the others were a vague buzzing in his
ears like bees fluttering about.
Scooping into the earth, as if digging a grave, Naruto growls with focus.
"Don't dig so deep," remarks Sasuke.
At that, Naruto blinks and scoots back, falling on his bum.
"But we need to plant it deep. So it can be safe, from y'know, the birds!"
Freezing, Sasuke feels his fingers curl in pain. "Too deep and sunlight won't
penetrate. Won't be able to overcome and break the surface."
Naruto pats the soil, obligingly in fascination. "Fine. We won't bury it deep.
But what if I come every day to protect our plant?"
The sounds of the others laughing and tilling pervades their simmering silence.
After some consideration, he says at last, "There's no bird that would eat our
plant."
And the words felt like poisonous barbs. A white lie but more; a cold denial
like a night stranded in a blizzard. Icy waves pound with every fleet image of
a raven or crow, he swallows.
Flushing, Naruto averts his gaze, lips pursing in determination.
"I'll come every day, until it's not a seed anymore."
"Pointless," he dismisses coldly.
"So just leave it open to attack?" retorts Naruto, slamming his fists into the
dirt mounds. "Because we can protect it, Sasuke. I'll watch it, and then when I
need to sleep, you'll keep watch. Take turns."
A glimpse of light in the distance yanks his chain, he nearly doubles forward.
For dots speckle overhead, a family of motions…like a school of fish darting
across the pool of noon's sky. Birds a whole village of them, drifting in
cyclones like bars of metal shining brilliantly under sun. They glide above. He
bends back, shielding his eyes from the intensity. For the black winged pilot's
returned. Not at the forefront, not leading, but behind another—some silver-
white jet—and the happy formation points like an arrow, disappearing once more
in a circle.
He's moving, only to realize it was Naruto grabbing him gently by the collar.
"Because there's no way you or I can protect it alone. It's our mission!"
And in a flicker, Naruto pulls him down, to press wet lips to his forehead.
Immediately his heart races ahead, two beats merge together, swelling in his
chest.
He steals them into an embrace, fitting like in a dream and then hoists up
Naruto into a carry, who roars in laughter being held like a bride in his arms.
He looks to the hill, where soon they'd overlook the whole camp if they wanted.
And when he climbs up, at last sets Naruto to lie on his jacket. They share the
blanket, spreading, lying completely flat and open to the atmosphere.
"We shouldn't have separated from the group," says Naruto jokingly, "Iruka-
sensei's gonna get worried."
"Forget them. They don't care, not really."
They planted the seed, close to the sun, vulnerable, but they would be here to
make sure it'd grow.
"How tall would it be? Like a skyscraper?" guesses Naruto, swishing his head
side to side in fun. "Or short like me?"
A faintest shape of a cloud treks over. White, and fluffed out. He'd dreamt
once Naruto grew taller than him, and it changed nothing—Naruto would always be
his little brother.
"I don't care how tall it'd be," he tells the other, without glancing away from
the shapeless cloud. "Only no one dares to use its shade, or climb it, or touch
it whatsoever."
"So let's put a sign. Call it ours. Our hiding spot—call it Hidden Leaf or
something!"
Dainty fingers slip between his, their hands interlocking. Naruto moves subtly
closer, giving a feathery swipe to his palm and Sasuke flinches at the
bombardment of steady heat, like water under a summer's sun slowly melting the
residual ice in his system. Perfect warmth, agonizingly slow, filling him. And
Naruto can't keep still, constantly flicking a thumb and even squeezing his
wrist, grazing claws in teasing circles.
Instinctively he twitches under the attention, Naruto's stroking follows a pace
which drives him insane. The tortuous sweetness ruins his breath as Naruto toys
with his hand, sliding their tether apart and together again, etching ghost
words into the divot of his palm. Drives him mad, drives him crazy this shroud
of innocence set over the deep sea of lust. He never knew it was possible, to
make love by holding hands. He shivers and shuts his eyes, fighting himself to
become as apathetic as possible.
But all he feels is his core aching as Naruto strums his carnal desire with
their hands, grazing contact in sways of the wind.
"Uchiha…"
If Iruka had not intercepted in this moment, he'd have kidnapped them home.
He had so much to tell Naruto. He wanted to end the distance forever, he'd tell
Naruto about Itachi, and Sakura, and then they'd leave this godforsaken town—a
cliffside home.
"Uchiha-san, may I have a word with you?"
He's still laying on the grass, when his eye cracks open to see Iruka looming
over.
Piercing his dream. Suffocating him.
And that Naruto's not by his side. "Where is—"
"I told Naruto he should pick you two a place on the bus."
At this, Sasuke's eye shuts again. The heaviness won't let him stand. And he
felt too numb and too empty of care to notice the effect of his snub on the
teacher.
"May I sit?" queries the man.
Stooping beside, Iruka lets a long silence pass before prompting the discussion
once more.
"It's about Naruto, I wanted to ask. If he has been forwarding you the
letters?"
"Letters of what?" he asks absently, finally looking to the earnest gaze.
"So he hasn't, I suspected as much. And this isn't your phone number either, is
it?"
Finally folding up off the ground, Sasuke squints at the foreign number. He
looks at the 'emergency card' Naruto filled out in school, with all the
important contact information, but everything was...wrong. He shakes his head.
"No, that's not. That's not my e-mail, either. That's not even—our—" address.
What the hell was Naruto thinking?
"Uchiha-san, are you aware of his behavior? Has Naruto mentioned to you what's
going in his school life?"
Naruto'd tell him how he started food fights, how he played pranks on the girls
and other boys, and Naruto loved to pretend to be sick to miss out school. They
maxed out the total absences for this year, a whopping twenty missed classes
which is borderline asking for repeating the grade.
"What should I be aware of, exactly?"
A terrifyingly sorrowful expression takes hold in Iruka. "I have been trying to
reach in contact with you the last weeks. To avoid this. Finally I meet you,
and I am filled with so much regret to bring up such a subject during a field
trip. But the school has evaluated and decided Naruto should enlist in school-
based therapy, in the course of the summer to gain admission to fifth grade."
Sasuke feels his eyes harden, and his brows crease threateningly.
Yet Iruka continues, "Unfortunately there isn't a way around this. In the last
month alone, Naruto showed up for only ten days. In those ten days, five of
them were to serve in school suspensions due to serious misdemeanors, and he'd
make up the work he missed. The only good things I have to fight against the
principal are his standardized test scores, quiz results, and homework
assignments, which surely convince me he doesn't have a comprehension disorder,
quite the opposite."
The wrathful dark cloud hovering over him, goes ignored by Iruka who only turns
graver, more sympathetic.
"But it's evident based on his constant disruptive behavior, on
his…episodes—intolerable and extreme at times— there is some emotional, social
impediment that—"
Shut up. This litany boils his blood. Impediment?
"I refuse. I disagree. I'll withdraw him out this school and—"
"It is too late for that. The year's ending. And the school's therapist will
work with the principal and me to ensure he's prepared for the next level."
Iruka frowns, "I only want to cooperate with you to address the problem."
"And what is the problem?" he dares. "What's wrong with my Naruto?"
"He's…"
 
 
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