Disclaimer: I don't own nor have I contributed to Naruto in any way! Nope! None!
Sky-eyed Kitsune: Well the sequel is finally here now on the day promised, so I don't want to hear any complaints! ;p
Pairings: sasunarusasu, peinnaru (these are our main pairings that we will be focusing on but there are also other little side pairings as well.)
Warnings: shounen-ai, fluff, violence, strong language, sexual themes, lemon and lime (lemon will be in a solo link), yaoi (malexmale), drugs
Let it be known that for the beginning of this story I will be replying to reviews that have more than one sentence. But again, the problem is that I tend to get so many that I don't have the time to respond thoughtfully to them all. So I'll be replying to any feedback while the number of them are still small ^^
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Chapter One: New Divide
"There was nothing in sight
but memories left abandoned.
There was nowhere to hide,
the ashes fell like snow."
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Sasuke had stayed sober for two weeks. For him it was another milestone (or pebble) to mark on his calendar, but for Itachi it was just another relapse in the making.
Things had seemed to fall down in slow motion to Sasuke and all the walls forged around him caved within an instant. Before he knew it four years had almost passed and the snow had fallen for the fourth time. Everyone else had seemed to notice this as well, but with a much more subtle sense of grief.
Kurochi left its name behind after the unfortunate events that befell their leader, but still stuck together, being such close friends.
Lee had mustered up the courage to youthfully ask out Tenten, who blissfully accepted. Kankuro and Shikamaru had become best friends through their eventful cloud watching commentaries, and thus Kankuro didn't throw a rabid fit when Shikamaru proposed to his sister after three years of dating. Kiba was dating a girl from his University named Hinata, who turned out to be Neji's cousin. He had no objection of their new relationship, but kept Kiba under surveillance like a hawk. Sai and Ino were not officially an item although the brunet made every attempt he could to swipe a quick grope before being pummeled.
It didn't bother Sasuke to see all of his friends, some new and old, hooking up with each other. He didn't much care about what they did with their social lives as long as they didn't drag him into any blind dating.
Sasuke kept himself busy with his studies; he was a senior in Konoha's College of the Arts now. When he became interested in art he'd never know, but he was good at it, so he might as well make a living out of it.
Itachi was kept just as busy. He had completed college with his degree and had been writing for four years, publishing three books along the way and slowly becoming a successful author. Naturally his editors asked due dates of him, so Itachi was constantly in his room, in the den, or even in the kitchen typing away on his laptop. It seemed almost unnatural for Sasuke not to hear the quiet tapping of his brother's fingers against the keys every day.
Through his college years Sasuke had been given many interesting assignments, and because of these he captured the attention of many of his art teachers through his distinctive themes. One day one of his professors questioned him about this.
"Sasuke, all your work is very stunning," he would explain, "But why is snow a recurring theme in all your pieces?"
Sasuke would shrug, and simply say, "I like snow."
Of course when Itachi entered his brother's room and saw his sketches and half finished canvases, he knew why there was always snow.
Because to Sasuke without Naruto, snow is all there would ever be left of him. Four years had certainly changed Sasuke, even if only internally. Itachi already couldn't stand how quiet and angsty his brother had been previously, but at this point if Itachi didn't see him come downstairs every now and then to eat, he would be presumed dead.
He still acted his normal slightly less broody self around his friends however, knowing that they would be ashamed to discover that he still hadn't let go. But Sasuke didn't know how he could. At first he had blamed himself for what had occurred, but then after Itachi had knocked some sense into him he was sure of it—Naruto's death was his fault.
It was his "demon" comment that had sent Naruto running. Temari had explained after the blond was six feet under the snow that Naruto's godfather Jiraiya had been abusive to him all of his life, and had nicknamed Naruto a demon.
Sasuke had never felt more absolutely disgusted with himself. He had never tried to forgive himself, because he had never wanted to. He didn't deserve it.
Sasuke diluted his inner affliction and guilt with alcohol, the wonderful gift from the heavens he had discovered at the age of twenty-one. He drank to the point where he felt nothing, thought nothing, and absorbed everything around him in peaceful waves.
Itachi called it an addiction. Sasuke called it an escape. The only reason he drank wasn't because he felt the crave for alcohol in his body, but to give his guilt laden mind a little peace. Though he would never have real solace, he could at least capture a little essence of it…just a little.
Gaara's non-existent eyebrow twitched, and he slammed his book shut, hands shaking with suppressed anger. He shifted his eyes to the ceiling, a vibrating boom pulsing from the room above.
Kankuro looked up from repairing one of his puppets on the couch at his younger sibling, and sighed.
"Slamming that poor defenseless book closed over and over again isn't going to make Temari turn down her music," he said. "I mean c'mon! It's not even a hardback Gaara. Show a little mercy."
Gaara dropped the book on the den table and stood in an almost mechanic manner, back erect and hair standing on end like a frazzled cat. He stomped his way up the stairs, making a sharp turn down the hallway, arms glued to his sides. He was about to kick the door to his sister's room open, when he stopped and took a deep breath. He wouldn't be the one to manifest a bridezilla only two weeks away from the wedding.
Gaara grasped the doorknob tightly, gave it a squeeze, and in a surprisingly controlled manner opened the door.
Temari looked up from her paperwork, sitting on her bed with pen in hand and a pair of glasses perched on her nose.
Gaara strode in, made his way over to her computer, lowered the volume, turned, and left without a word, closing the door quietly behind him.
Temari blinked after him, and then smirked. She was milking everything she could out of her brothers in her glowing bride-to-be state, and receiving especially nice treatment even when she was being bitchy was one of the perks.
But this time she wasn't even paying attention to her bitch meter when she had turned up the volume. She felt like if she didn't listen to the songs, then that voice would be gone forever.
He would be gone forever.
Temari jumped as her pocket buzzed, and she clicked mute button on her computer. She removed the device and glanced at the unrecognized number. She really didn't feel like talking to telemarketers, but then again maybe she could take some pent up anger out on one of the poor bastards.
She flipped open the phone's cover.
"What?" she practically bit into the phone.
"Is this Temari Sabaku?" the other male voice over the line asked almost apprehensively.
"I don't want whatever shit you're selling and I want your manager to get my fucking number off your hit list," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Huh? Wait, what?" the confused voice replied.
"Aw aren't you cute playing the village idiot," Temari hissed, rolling her eyes.
"This is Temari Sabaku, right? Her number hasn't been changed? It's been almost four years so I wouldn't really know."
Temari almost dropped the phone.
"You..it…"
"Glad you remember me…I think."
Sasuke didn't try to evaluate the expression on his professor's face; he knew that if he made one feeble attempt he would end up counting all of the wrinkles, moles, and age spots on the rickety old fart's skin instead.
The man looked up at the raven from over the canvas.
"Mr. Uchiha," he said, spitting a little. Sasuke twitched as a drop splattered on his cheek, and with a great amount of patience, wiped the saliva away with his sleeve.
"I asked you for a canvas depicting the theme of what spring in the depths of a flower bud would look like. Did you understand this assignment?"
"Yes sir," Sasuke replied listlessly, not really paying attention.
"Then why, young man, have you painted me a flower crusted over with ice?"
Sasuke shrugged. "I felt like it."
The old man shook his head, the loose skin on his neck flapping about.
"I cannot grade this boy! I will give you the chance to redo the assignment. But this time I want to see some life! Not this constant array of snow you keep giving me!"
Sasuke nodded as the man handed him back his canvas roughly, and pointed a shriveled grey finger to the door.
Itachi looked up from his computer as he heard the front door close, and the shuffling of shoes being removed and a coat hung up were heard.
Sasuke entered the den not a second later with his bag flung over his shoulder, making a beeline for the stairs.
"How was class?" Itachi asked, wanting Sasuke to socialize a little before going up to his room like he did everyday.
"Alright," Sasuke replied, the same reply he had always given to the same question.
"What did the professor think of your canvas?"
"I have to redo it."
Itachi scrunched his eyebrows. Sasuke's works felt cold and dim, but they were all exceptionally beautiful and painfully detailed in a way that conveyed how many long and hard hours they took to create.
"May I see it?" Itachi asked, and Sasuke unzipped his bag, producing the piece and handing it to Itachi.
Beautiful. Snowy. Sad. Just like always.
"It's lovely Sasuke," Itachi said. "But why would you have to redo it?"
"The professor says no more winter," Sasuke said, taking back the canvas. Itachi followed Sasuke with his eyes as the younger raven strode up the stairs to his self-proclaimed sanctum. Itachi knew that the professor would never get his wish. Sasuke was bound to the snow as long as that grave stood alone in the field.
Itachi didn't try to coax Sasuke into getting over Naruto anymoer, because he realized that he couldn't. Itachi had never known how much Sasuke had truly loved the blond until he had seen his brother suffer for the past four years. He seemed to deteriorate from the inside while his outside conveyed his ritual mask of uncaring. But Itachi saw what everyone else did not: a dead cell.
Sasuke was hollow. His mind had given up and completely shut down, while his body kept going in the robotic rhythm of everyday living. It pained Itachi to see Sasuke this way, but he couldn't tell him.
He had promised Naruto before the tombstone had been engraved.
Gaara lay back on the couch that night, his arm over his eyes as he groaned. Kankuro smirked as he walked into the room with a plate of spaghetti.
"Yea I know, she's still playing that damn music," he sighed, swirling the noodles around his fork. "But the good news is that according to Temari the band is breaking up pretty soon anyways."
"Thank god," Gaara grumbled as Kankuro decided to just slurp up his dinner messily.
"Oh yea, I do have some bad news for ya."
Gaara removed his arm and shot his brother a death glare that drilled through the side of his head.
"Don't look at me like that," Kankuro said, focusing on his noodles. "You can take your anger out on Temari. Apparently someone is coming to stay here with us for a while."
Gaara narrowed his eyes. "Who?"
Kankuro shrugged. "She says its some guy that she knew from a while back. She wouldn't tell me any more than that."
Gaara scoffed.
Itachi jolted when his cell phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, absorbed in his laptop screen. He looked at the number and furrowed his eyebrows when he didn't recognize the number.
"Hello?" he said. His expression of confusion gradually turned into a small smile. "I knew it."
The chapter is out, as promised. I try to make the first chapters of a new fic short, and this is no different. Reviews are love like always, and I hope you'll accompany me on another angsty ride!
Sky-eyed Kitsune