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Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
A/N: For SasuSaku Month event's Special Occasion: Birthday prompt. And . . . gawd. The birthday party isn't even Sasuke's; it's Naruto's. So, happy B-day, Sasuke (AND GOD, GO BACK TO KONOHA ALREADY!). :)
Wanted to write something deep and meaningful, with substance, yer know. And this popped out. It's probably a bold move on my part, since I normally have my plots piggybacking canon. But this one . . . doesn't. So. Yup.
Like the others, there will be irregular updates for Apocalypse. Hold your breath for SasuSaku, because really, it will come. Guaranteed.
Message is the same: love our planet, treasure what you have. Hopefully somethin' like this won't happen in real life.
(Am watching the History Channel right now. 'Cuz I'm nerdy like that.)
.Chapter One.
Birthday Surprise
Thursday October 10, 2013
"Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear Naruto (idiot) (dead-last)—
Happy birthday to you!"
("M-make a w-w-wish, Naruto-k-kun."
"Yeah, yeah, whoo! Go, man!"
"Better not be something perverted, idiot!"
"Hn." I won't say anything this once because it's your birthday.
"Can you hurry up? The cake looks too tempting to be just . . . sitting there . . ."
"Ick, Chouji! Stop drooling on me!"
"Ah, what a glorious occasion! How thrilled I am to be with all of you here, celebrating this wonderful—"
"Is this what they mean by an 'orgy'?"
"Troublesome . . .")
What followed was a series of whistles, clapping, and cheering as Naruto Uzumaki blew out the seventeen candles on his birthday cake. After candlelight died, the light in the room was flicked back on, showing a scene of a dozen or so people crowding around a beaming blond. The birthday boy had cream smudges on the corner of his lips while wearing a lopsided party cone.
"Eh? YOU ATE CAKE WITHOUT US!"
Naruto cringed and backed further into his chair. "Sakura-chan, you promised! No punching me on my birthday!"
Everyone except for Sasuke, who simply rolled his eyes, laughed.
"Let's eat the cake now!" Kiba shouted excitedly.
"I don't want any," several boys said at once.
"C'mon, teme—stop being such a pussy!"
"Just because I dislike sweets doesn't make me any less a male."
"Psh. You're just afraid!"
Unable to stand their bickering, Chouji charged forward.
"I don't care about you guys—I'm getting that cake!"
"Chouji, quit it—! SHIKAMARU, COME AND HELP ME!"
"Stop! A fly is on the table! You must not harm its delicate wings . . ."
"EW!"
"A youthful tug-o-war? I CHALLENGE YOU, NEJI!"
"SHIKAMARUUU!"
"Scary woman . . ."
"It's too bad Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari can't come, isn't it?" Sakura asked thoughtfully with a fork on her lips. "Karin and the others couldn't make it too. That sucks."
While Sasuke tried very hard not to stare at the girl (he couldn't even begin to describe the strange sensation that tugged his guts at the sight of her), Naruto answered cheerfully, "Well, it's their mistake not to come—this cake is amazing! Hinata-chan, you're a great cook!"
The girl blushed from the praise.
"I mean, it's not ramen, but—" Naruto stuffed another huge piece of cake in his mouth and grinned "—this is, like, the second most awesome thing in the universe!"
"Th-Thank you, Naruto-kun."
". . . scientists have confirmed—" pause "—is heading towards Earth—" pause "—half a year's time—" pause "—the public not to panic . . ."
"Oi!" Kiba called out. "Can you switch the channel? Sci-fi movies are lame . . ."
"Trying." Tenten furiously pressed the remote's buttons.
But it was the same pale and clammy lady that kept on talking on the TV, channel after channel. A blurry picture of a rocky object against the starry outer space backdrop was at the corner, labeled with bright red letters, "KP45-37."
Black flashed across the screen every few seconds.
". . . government standing—" flicker "—attempting their hardest—" flicker "—find the solution—" flicker "—not to panic—" flicker "—answer—" flicker "—problem . . ."
"Stupid—broken—antenna—"
"Hold on a second," Sakura suddenly said, covering Tenten's hands. Tenten looked up to the girl questioningly, but Sakura had her eyes trained on the television screen.
Laughter and light chatter faded into silence as Sakura upped the TV's volume. The announcer's unusually high-pitched and oddly nervous voice soon filled the room:
". . . again, the government officials urge civilians not to panic, as scientists are trying their best right now to find a way to stop KP-four-five-three-seven on its way. One astronomer point out that while all calculations indicate the meteor to cra—make contact with Earth's atmosphere in six months there is always the likely chance that another planet's gravity will pull KP-four-five-three-seven out of its trajectory, and remind the public that there is only . . . only a seventy-five percent chance of impact, an optimistic twenty-five percent chance KP-four-five-three-seven will not.
"Official agencies hope that this information is useful to the general public, and again advises the community to not panic, stay calm, and continue all business as usual. In addition, the Prime Minister addressed in a public announcement today in Tokyo to reassure the nation that everything will be okay if we do not panic. Everything will be fine if we don't panic, as panic cause chaos and creates more death and that's not good even though we're all gonna die anyway, and why waste our time panicking, right? Panicking is bad, and why waste time worrying about a five-hundred meter wide rock that's coming towards us? Completely pointless, I'm telling you! Why waste our time? Why waste our time panicking? Why? Why? Panicking is bad. Panicking is very bad. After all, we're all gonna die anyway so why bother? THE WORLD IS GONNA END AND WE CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!"
With that, the news reporter fainted.
A second later, a place-holder screen appeared:
Sorry, we're currently experiencing some technical difficulties. The show you were watching should be back on in a few minutes. We apologize for the delay and hope to fix the mistake as soon as possible. Thank you for your patience and have a great day!
Light, merry music played from the speakers.
No one spoke for a long, long while.