Disembodied

For the first time in a long time, this story seemed to write itself. Dedicated to 'hiei lovers' who has read pretty much everything I've written, no matter what the genre or subject, and my friend Maxxie who is way cool with helping disassemble my thoughts into plots.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Let this stand for the whole story, yeah? Sweet deal.

Synopsis:

In our own world is a hidden dimension, a limbo, where the not quite dead are left to do whatever not quite dead people are meant to. After getting knocked into a coma, Sasuke meets Naruto, a mystery enshrouded blonde idiot. Struggling through pain, guilt, confusion and an added layer of 'growing up' the boys end up supporting each other through the trials and tribulations, figuring out that life wasn't exactly what either of them had thought it was.

Rating: M, for language and mature situations. Probably.

Thoughts:

I wanted to make this advertently AU. If Sasuke wasn't a ninja, or an expert on fighting, and his parents hadn't been slaughtered, would he still have been so volatile and destructive a person? Probably not. So I made him an ordinary teenager. He still has an attitude problem, but he's really just a kid. I didn't want to make him perfect, at all, because nobody is – being a hermit does not count as a flaw, and just being cold doesn't make up for countless perfections, in my opinion. In this chapter it mostly shows how he perceives himself, and in the next, which is Naruto's point of view, it will show how others see Sasuke. I really hope you like it, because I really enjoyed writing it.

Sasuke ambled up the schools steps at a lazy pace, enjoying the breeze that played against the tips of his hair, already mused around in its general disarray. He took no notice as dark strands wound around the large, expensive looking headphones covering his ears; though the picture of streamline excellence was marred by a multitude of band stickers that cluttered the device.

He mouthed along to the lyrics of the current song he was listening to, bypassing a few mingling students, gossiping before the morning bell rang. The collar to his black school uniform was pulled up, and he tucked his head lower, his even blacker messenger bag tapping against his thigh in procession.

Sasuke wasn't a particularly social boy, and he didn't go out of his way to become noticed. He wasn't the star of any sporting team, he didn't like drama club, and to be perfectly honest, he couldn't draw a dog without someone mistaking it for a giraffe, so art was out of the question.

He wasn't considered a geek, either, because that had taken on a new meaning besides getting good grades; and Sasuke didn't compete in chess tournaments, or even play video games obsessively.

He didn't wish for anarchy and absolute freedom like the punk kids about the school with dyed mohawks, and he wasn't particularly keen on writing out his emotions in a dark hued analogy, like some of the goths.

He was sure they were all unique snowflakes of people, and different inside. Perhaps they hated the stereotypes surrounding them, but that was what he saw, and he couldn't really ingrain himself into any of them.

Sasuke was different, or at least, he viewed himself as different. He couldn't really understand why people would want to chase after a ball, or paint a view when you could simply look at it – or even take its picture.

He felt jaded and used and indifferent most of the time; and whining about it to a group of people wouldn't help any, either. He was quite firm in thinking this, anyway.

He had always been there for himself, after all, that wouldn't be changing anytime soon. He could have been average, he probably was. But who ever considers themselves average?

He was smart, and prettier than most, but he wasn't that great at presenting himself in any other way than aloof. He felt awkward in his own skin and was constantly worrying someone would call him on his bluff.

Half the time he felt like he was walking on a precarious tightrope that had no end in sight. But he was just a kid, he was only seventeen, he had time to figure all that out, right?

A sigh escaped the pale boys lips as a teacher turned their hardened glare towards him, their mouth moving in strange sequences as a particularly loud guitar riff filled Sasuke's ears.

Sasuke figured he wanted him to put away the headphones, and he pulled a face. You know, the one that shows absolute contempt, that every fiber, every ion of your being is rejecting something vile and pungent.

It may have been a little much, but he was a teenager and allowed to overreact. Apparently this particular teacher didn't have the 'boys will be boys' mentality, and instead opted on yanking Sasuke back by a tug to his collar.

There was an alarming moment where Sasuke didn't know what was going on, save for the tight pinch to his throat, and a fleeting moment of instability while he staggered back.

He tried to peer over his shoulder, to twist his body around, but he was still growing, and the older man had at least fifty pounds on him, his heavy hands keeping him locked into place.

Headphones were snatched from his ears, his mp3 player following. He made a noise of protest but was shushed when the man started yelling at him for being disrespectful, pellets of spittle landing on his face as he tried to cringe away.

He was informed that he could get his 'electronic device' back at the end of the school day in the main office.

What a lovely was to kick start a morning.

Feeling extra rebellious, and a quite a bit angry, Sasuke spun, lashing out at the nearest locker with a boot-clad foot, the hollow clang of metal screaming loudly throughout the hall.

As Sasuke saw the heavyset man turn around again, he had the bright idea to take off running in the opposite direction.

Long limbed and lithe, one thing Sasuke could do was run, even if his bag felt heavy, a cumbersome weight that dripped from his shoulder.

He stopped a few meters down, after a couple of sharp twists and turns; his hands placed against his knees as he panted, gulping down air greedily, sweat beading uncomfortably underneath dark bangs.

After taking a few moments to collect his bearings, Sasuke straightened, walking at a more leisurely pace towards his classroom, only a slight pant laboring his lungs.

The day passed by smoothly enough, or, as usual anyway.

Sasuke's general routine was to keep his head down and try to glide by unnoticed. That was quite often a bit difficult, as he was taller than most, so even if he kept his head down, he imagined himself to be some tall, lurking, half giant.

The mental picture he painted of himself was unsettling, in the least.

Being tall still didn't stop people from openly hating him, though. Apparently being vertically inclined didn't mean you were completely menacing.

Mainly the bulkier guys, who always seemed to be in a race to see who could get the most laughs from the over-processed girls, liked to try and belittle him when they could get the chance.

Sasuke usually opted to ignore them; smart answers didn't define the speaker as smart if they had been directed at a bunch of overly large guys in a group, with over inflated egos to boot.

Sasuke decided he didn't like the feeling of being injured, after all. One on one he could possibly stand a chance, one on five? His chance had just gone to hell and dug its own personal grave there.

Now, while he might have been unusual, he wouldn't call himself a leper. Most of his free time was spent with his good friend, Sakura.

A girl with a flair for dramatics, which was overly emphasized with her always brightly dyed hair in the ravishing shade of electric pink.

She was usually flitting about with pieces of gossip that he always managed to catch the endings of.

"And that new haircut looks atrocious." Or "I heard his mothers a cocaine addict!" Once even the unbelievable, "and I saw the teacher feeling her up last week, too."

As he came up to her now he heard the latent string of her newest, paltry gossip "on his wrists, blood was everywhere, they said." She opened her mouth to say more to her friend, but jumped in fright when Sasuke clapped a hand against her back.

"And then Lee turned into a chicken and his homeroom ate him, right?" He questioned the pair with a lackadaisical grin, referring to a peculiar classmate they both knew.

Sakura rolled her eyes at him before admitting, "God Sasuke, you are so lame." Her friend chortled in what he presumed to be agreement.

He shrugged in a manner akin to saying 'so what?' Sakura's friend had decided to take her leave, now that the gossip had stopped.

The small girl swung a murderous glance in his direction and he put his hands up in defense, she hit extremely hard for a girl of her stature, and was quite volatile.

She sighed out instead though, swatting away his hands as one would to an annoy a fly.

"Why am I even friends with you?" Sakura spat out good humouredly, while Sasuke rolled his eyes innocuously.

Or, as innocuously as one could eye roll, most of the time eye rolling did not signal someone to be very innocuous. For example, you certainly did not want to roll your eyes at a police officer when being questioned on whether or not you had just murdered someone.

Suffice to say, as good intentioned as Sasuke's particular eye roll was, Sakura most definitely did not perceive him as innocent.

"I heard you were fucking with the new physics teacher." Sakura supplied, an almost lecherous grin was placed upon her face, and Sasuke wanted to blanch back as she entered into 'gossip mode,' to which he so affectionately referred.

"I was most definitely not fucking anybody." He informed her, with certainty.

She gave him the eye roll this time, and Sasuke decided she didn't will even an ounce of innocence into it.

He gave her a cocky rendition of a grin before telling her the actual case of events, before she got a chance to punch him.

As previously stated, Sasuke was not a fan of getting injured. He was very much against it, actually.

"Don't start informing the whole school on what a rebel I am, please, I already have enough trouble with that." Sasuke told her, eying the girl warily.

This was true, since he didn't appear to have too many friends, or have a wholesome afternoon activity, and wasn't hideously unattractive, a few had decided to label him a rebel and it spread.

In fact, when he came to school once after getting his ass kicked by a handful of steroid using upperclassmen, this had seemed to solidify said rumor. He didn't exactly understand why.

Sakura had even took it upon herself to construct a diagram for him, showing how the girls who found him handsome (he couldn't even begin to fathom that one, by the way) had taken it upon themselves to say that he had challenged them, and even gave them a run for their money.

The latter part of the rumor was grossly overestimated; the only reason the kids who did kick his ass looked a bit roughed up was because he accidentally knocked over some heavy chemistry textbooks in his haste of fleeing like a little girl, and they had connected with some overly bulky heads.

He half wished the real reason got spread around at times, he couldn't even live up to the fact that he was tall, let alone carry around the heavy burden of pretending to be a rebel.

"What really happened," He spoke again, in continuation of his story. "Was that I was listening to music after the first bell rang and didn't take my headphones off when he first asked me, so he took them. The bastard." He ended dramatically.

Sakura grinned at him before deciding to point out, "Well, that is a bit rebellious Sasuke, defying authority and all."

She let out a loud laugh at her own quip that had people around the hallway turning to look at them. He felt his face grow hot under the attention and could only imagine his cheeks turning the same, charming color as Sakura's hair.

There were just way too many downsides with being pale. And having eccentric friends.

"Shut it, will you?" He bit out embarrassedly, and she made a strange half snorting sound, while looking at him incredulously. He really had to give her points, you know, for being so charismatic and ladylike.

"Sasuke, when you're as good looking a person as you are, people don't give a shit what you do, y'know?" She phrased this gem in a question, but it sounded a lot more of a statement to Sasuke's ears.

"Well, that still means people are giving a shit, Sakura, since you are the one doing something." He half huffed, adding in "y'know" sarcastically at the end, for good measure.

This earned him a hard punch to the gut, and he bent in half, wheezing. The steroid jock club should really induct her; they would get along splendidly, he thought as he struggled to regain his normal breathing tempo.

"I am very attractive Sasuke." She informed him sourly, as he simply nodded along, clutching his stomach, hoping she wouldn't decide to knock him around some more.

Oh how the rebel had fallen. Not that he ever considered himself one in the first place.

Now, Sakura either had a very strong belief in the phrase 'forgive and forget' or else she had some kind of personality disorder. Sasuke had never gotten around to deciding which.

"We're gonna miss the bus if you keep blubbering around like a baby." She indulged sweetly upon his bruise-addled frame. Or something.

Sasuke was always prone to over exaggeration.

"Well, sorry then, princess." He bit out, shifting back up again, imagining himself slipping into his menacingly large frame, a hunkering, ageless mountain set against a plane of rolling hills.

Exaggeration was really his only strong suit, he might as well play it up.

She grabbed his arm and began tugging him towards the entrance of the building, before he remembered to stick his heels hard into the linoleum-plated floors. Or tried to anyway, linoleum isn't a matter you can really sink into so what ensued was a high-pitched screechy wail as the soles of his boots were dragged along the white surface.

The two teens cringed at the noise before Sakura threw a glance over her shoulder, throwing out an exasperated, "what?"

"I have to go to the main hall, you know, to get my music n' shit." He informed her, with as much decorum as he could muster.

Which, plaintively, wasn't very much.

As they changed the course of their travel, the two chatted amiably about nothing in particular. Or, Sakura talked about nothing in particular and Sasuke listened, half interested with a glazed look about his eyes.

When he reached the front desk and told the no-nonsense looking receptionist why he was there, he was met with a stern glare and informed that he had received detention for the following day. Not too politely, either.

He griped to his friend about the predicament at hand as they left the school building, walking a few blocks toward the bus stop, thinking up horrible names to call the receptionist as they waited for the bus' arrival.

The bus came into view not five minutes later, and the two flashed their city bus passes as they climbed aboard, Sakura quickly hunting down a few empty seats, ushering for Sasuke to hurry up.

He heaved a sigh as he sat down besides her, ignoring the pointed glare she gave him as he slipped on his headphones and turned up the volume to a phenomenal level.

He really wasn't in the mood for any more gossip today, and he wasn't too thrilled about going home, either.

His house was the embodiment of dysfunctional and chaotic. It seemed that to him that his parents had fallen out of love, and were too cowardly to face up to it. He was also pretty sure they used him and his brother as an excuse to not split up, so it wouldn't 'tear apart their family' or some bullshit.

He'd rather see his father on weekends then watch him scream at his mother till she cried. As awkward as he always seemed to feel, it raised ten fold whenever he stepped into his house, he often opted to burrow away – headphones seemed like a phantom appendage now that the screaming matches were everlasting in the Uchiha household.

His older brother wasn't exactly a pillar of support either, far from it actually. He was pretty sure his brother was addicted to something he just didn't care enough to find out what. Which was quite sad, if you thought about it.

As the bus screeched to a stop for the third time, Sakura got up to leave, throwing a small wave over her shouldered as she wobbled down the aisle in her absurdly high heels.

He smiled at her tottering frame as she departed. Two stops later, and Sasuke did the same, sans the tottering.

The apartment complex Sasuke lived in was nice, probably a lot nicer than most considering his parents had pretty high profile jobs concerning politics.

Their apartment had two levels, and an ample amount of space for four people to be living in; the two brothers each had their own rooms, and for that Sasuke was eternally grateful.

Itachi was already creepy enough across the hall without Sasuke knowing what he did behind closed doors.

The doorman greeted Sasuke with a familiar nod as he walked in, opting to take the stairs up four flights, rather than the elevator.

He held the contraption in comparison to a death trap. Even if the statistics were low that people were maimed, he would avoid them at all cause – not wanting to be hurled down any amount of distance was preferable, in Sasuke's humble opinion.

He had relatively good stamina though, and made it all the way up without a hitch, save for locating his keys in his disorganized bag.

As he made his way into the apartment he was greeted with silence for a blissful, grand, luxurious ten seconds.

His joy was short lived, and a scowl settled on his face so he could prove this to whoever was surrounding him.

That included his mother who was standing against the kitchen divider, one hand on her hip the other holding a small cell phone to her ear.

Sasuke's mother had been pretty once, in her prime. He reckoned that he inherited most of his features from his mother. Which would have been all fine and good, y'know, if he had been a girl.

Her sleek, dark hair wall pulled into a tight chignon at the back of her head. Lines creased at her forehead as she made an expression of anger, yelling into the contraption enunciating the crows feet lining her eyes.

Sasuke was slightly put out that she didn't look up and notice his scowl. She couldn't know how angst-ridden he was if she didn't see it, after all.

He opted to stomp past her huffily instead, a slightly less mature, but still viable solution.

She made a motion with her hand as to indicate him to act politely. He responded in the reasonable manner of slamming his door as loudly as possible.

Throwing his bag to the floor, he quickly shrugged off his uniform jacket, revealing a plain white tee shirt underneath.

Sasuke raked long fingers through his hair, feeling the pull of his scalp as he held onto the strands too tightly.

He groaned out in frustration, glad his father wasn't home yet to yell at him about stupid things. Like slamming his door too loudly. His mother only silently fumed at things like that, which he preferred.

Now, with a social life as uninteresting as Sasuke's, he usually had time to do his homework; unless the assignment was particularly dull, or he forgot to write it down he was pretty good about turning it in.

So with practiced routine, Sasuke went about collecting the proper books and papers to complete the task.

He got good grades, he was a bright kid but he wasn't a genius or anything of the sort. He couldn't nap through lectures and score an A on an exam; he got good grades because he did his homework, took notes and was able to process the information in a timely fashion.

A few hours of mind numbing practice wore away at him until he was basically finished, the slam of the front door indicating his father was home. Lovely.

Arms crisscrossed behind his back as he pulled his shirt over his head, the uniform pants soon following as he flung the articles of clothing into the corner of his room. In a very civilized manner, mind you.

Black track pants were retrieved from a drawer, and he was in the process of tugging them onto his lean frame when someone barged through his door.

The uncomfortable stare of his brothers' eyes met his body and Sasuke gazed back, only slightly horrified.

"Dude, fuckin' knock." Sasuke spat out, quickly jumping into the pants.

"Whatever, mom says dinners here." He said, or meant to, because his fathers loud, booming voice interrupted Itatchi's thought.

"No swearing Sasuke! Is this what you teach him in my absence? To go around swearing at his fucking brother?" The latter was directed at his mother. He also knew from experience that nothing good would come out of pointing out his fathers' own colorful use of language.

Sasuke grumbled underneath his breath as he shoved past Itachi who was now smirking at him. His fathers voice interrupted him again as it bellowed out "You're going into the kitchen to have dinner with your fucking mother and you're not wearing a shirt? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes (in a very non-innocuous manner) before hissing out under his breather "For fucks sake."

His father though, along with other undesirable traits, was very good at hearing things, at a capacity slightly better than most others; and exponentially better than those who couldn't hear at all.

"What the hell did you just say?" His father growled out, in some sort of guttural tone used to associate dominance. Sasuke wasn't an animal though, and he didn't much care for power plays.

He watched steadily as his father moved closer, breaching Sasuke's personal space while doing so. A fist was raised and he shook it by Sasuke's head.

But it was only a bluff. He was big and domineering, but he was also old, and once Sasuke had reached his height, found him rather un-frightening. So he only stared back a good couple of seconds before sniping out "nothing."

Sasuke grabbed a sweatshirt hanging off the peg on his door to appease the man before stalking off towards the kitchen, his amused brother following along with an interested gleam in his eyes; like Sasuke was part of a television show where he, as the main character, made an ass of himself on a regular basis.

He wondered briefly how well that show would do, ratings wise.

When Itachi had mentioned dinner was 'here' he had meant it. His mother didn't often cook, and his fathers view on cooking was that only the girly variety of the male species did this.

Therefore, they ordered out a lot. Sasuke looked at the dish in bland discontent, taking a rather small serving of the overly intricate meal.

What he wouldn't give to just have noodles once in a while. He could smell at least thirty-seven different kinds of herbs and spices coming off the no doubt expensive dish.

He tuned out of argument his parents were having on why Sasuke turned out to be the miserable little prick he was, and made an awful face at Itachi who was openly leering at him.

The food felt heavy as it settled into his stomach, and he wanted nothing more at that point than to go watch some shitty movie on his television that would drown out his parents screaming matches.

So he excused himself, his father commenting on his poor manners as he did so; half threw the expensive, modern looking plate into the dishwasher before hurrying off to his room, flipping off Itachi, who had been glaring at him, as he shut his door.

The sweatshirt was discarded and he was lying in bed as it hit the floor, remote control in hand as he turned on the television. He flicked through the channels before stopping on an over-acted action film.

Another movie and a game show later, and Sasuke fell asleep.

He woke the next morning to the blaring drone of his alarm clock, and he slapped his hand over the 'off' button, to silence the griping clockwork beast.

His day started like most others, Itachi beat him to the shower purely to annoy him, seeing as how he didn't need to get ready until another hour.

After that he would throw on his school uniform before wolfing down some whole wheat-infused health food his mother had purchased, before finally dashing out of the hell hole he called home like a mad man, so he could make the same bus he took every day.

On the bus he would play his music until Sakura got on, and then he would listen to her drone on about something entertaining until they made it to school.

He was a man of habit.

As he and Sakura walked the few blocks to school from the bus stop, she told him witty anecdotes about things that happened at her part time job, he in turn telling her how much of a dick Itachi had been last night.

Before parting at the school gates, he reminded her not to wait up for him at the end of the day. She gave him a small pout and a "good luck!" Before rushing off to her classroom.

So, with a pit of dread in his stomach, Sasuke completed his day robotically until the time finally came when he had to trudge down to detention hall.

He gave the bored looking teacher, who on second glance seemed to be reading a 'adult novel,' his name before moving into an empty seat.

He blanched a bit at the glare a boy a few seats down gave him. Pale skin and dark auburn hair, someone you'd call handsome if he didn't have a tattoo covering half his head, y'know, like people in prison had.

He knew who it was, Gaara. He also knew that Gaara hated him, and considering the fact that he found Gaara to be really fucking scary, he tended to steer clear. He figured his friends would probably be equal, or even exponentially, scarier - so he steered clear of them too, for good measure.

So, the entirety of the period was spent staring down at his fingers and fidgeting around in his seat uncomfortably. When the teacher announced their torture over, Sasuke sprung up like an overly excited whippet and dashed from the classroom.

He really didn't want Gaara to smash his head into the wall for existing, or something, so he high tailed it from the building without even pausing to slip on his headphones.

If the teacher in the hallway had not stopped Sasuke so many hours ago, he wouldn't have gotten detention.

If he hadn't gotten detention, he would have walked to the bus stop with Sakura, like usual.

So whenever he thought back on it, Sasuke blamed the whole fiasco on that one, pompous, teacher.

So as he crossed the road, and because he had gotten out of school late, the cab driver that was busy arguing with their customer did not see Sasuke as he collided with him.

Sasuke's body hit the massive hulk of metal, and he felt himself twist convulsively into the air, like he was a marionette puppet pulled up by strings into an intricate dance.

Only he wasn't, and gravity took its toll, flinging his body haphazardly back on the vehicle, which was screeching to a halt, bones jarring unnaturally underneath his skin.

He heard the impact of the blow to the windshield, rather than felt it. A splintering shatter that echoed inside his head. He recognized it as the sound of the glass cracking and with misplaced mirth he realized that his head had done that.

His vision was hazy, and blurred at the edges. He saw black for a few seconds, before steady blinking made everything clear again.

His first sensible thought was to get off the hood of the drivers car, to tell all the screaming bystanders he was fine and to stop staring at him. So he hefted his weight, and stood on shaky legs.

Only when he looked down, he saw the scrambled mess of his own body, glass imbedded into his skull, one arm cocked at an impossible angle. The macabre sight made him nearly vomit, the white-hot spasm of bile hit the back of his throat, before he managed to swallow it back down.

Instead he grew dizzy, his vision swam and he backed up quickly, closing his eyes and counting to ten, hoping it would all go away. Like some weird, trauma induced hallucination. They had those, right?

Only it didn't, and nobodies' attention was on his standing self, rather the mangled version, and then someone was calling an ambulance. He stared on in undulated horror.

So when someone grabbed his arm, startling him out of his thoughts he was half grateful. Only not really, because how could anything grab him when he wasn't really there.

He turned his head, and was met with a shock of pale hair. "Damn it, hey, are you okay?" A light voice plucked at his senses. He opened his mouth but was at a loss for words, and then the voice continued.

"Oh, hell, of course you're not." He muttered, almost angrily to himself.

Finally Sasuke got the bright idea to ask, "What the fuck?" He looked at the other teen; his eyes round with disbelief as they bore into the others (a very distinctive shade of blue, though it felt odd to notice such a thing when he knew his bent body was lying not ten feet away.)

The boy gave him a doleful glance before saying, "you're dead…well, kinda."

And here he always assumed he would have died in an elevator.

So, did you enjoy it? Please let me know if you want me to continue. I mean, if no ones reading it then I don't really have a purpose to put it onto fanfiction net. Basically, if you didn't get it, the plane in existence, (kind of half there, since the regular world continues around them) is for people who aren't quite dead. Or more specifically, people who are comatose.

Feel free to ask questions, make suggestions or give critique in your reviews; though any review really makes me happy. I'm a sucker for them.