author's note: Well, here I greet you with my first story published on FFnet. Such a momentous occasion! I think I've got chills.
disclaimer: I don't own Naruto (I wish I did, though).
warnings: Slight SasuNaru, Dark Themes, Adult Themes, Comedy Where It Shouldn't Be, and Angst Galore.
Sweet Dreams →
i find it kind of funny,
i find it kind of sad;
the dreams in which i'm dying
are the best i've ever had.
-mad world michael andrews & gary jules.
sweet dreams are made of these,
who am I to disagree?
- sweet dreams © marilyn manson.
As the door closed, Naruto dropped his official ANBU stance of one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other vigorously divested any earwax from its home. Instead, he slapped both palms down onto Tsunade's desk (knocking off a rather pricey, she noted with annoyance, trinket she had receive as a gift from the Mizukage of Kirigakure); his expression of lazy daydreaming was replaced with a look of one being horribly harassed.
"All right, old hag," he growled. "Just what the hell is it this time?! I'm all ready overdue for a nice big bowl of ramen!"
She swatted at his hands on her desk before he rose up into his eternal slouch and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was smiling, though. Cheery little brat.
Tsunade smiled slightly at him as she crossed her fingers in front of her mouth. After a moment, though, her smile dropped. "How are you feeling, Naruto?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Positively delightful. Blood and intestines is my favorite cologne. Being covered in them, as well, just puts the icing on the cake!" He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. I just need a shower... and some ramen," he emphasized impatiently.
"Yeah, yeah." She flapped a hand at him, and gave him another serious look. "How have you been sleep-wise? You look like you haven't slept in months..." She frowned at him, and pulled at the skin beneath his eye, revealing the white area. His blue eyes were bloodshot and watery.
He knocked her hand away and took a step back. He gave a forced laugh. "Bit of trouble, I suppose. Nothing too bad. Probably just 'cause of the rough mission."
She frowned again. He had been looking rough for months now. Not just around the time of the mission. She doubted he slept at all, considering the heavy bags under his eyes. "Would you like some sleeping pills? I had some brought in from Sunagakure... they're completely dream-less, if nightmares are the problem."
His semi-cheery expression hardened slightly. "No, Tsunade, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong. Just relax." He backed up and waved a little, before groping around behind him for the doorknob. When he found it, he said, "I'll talk to you later, okay?" and slipped out of the room.
Naruto sat on his usual stool in Ichiraku ramen, nursing a steaming bowl of noodles and staring contemplatively into its chicken-y depths as though it held the solution to all his problems. This, in itself, was unusual. Naruto was not the introspective type. He didn't like thinking about himself too much; he preferred to focus on other things. Like how much chicken was in his ramen, or how much the bill for electricity would be this month if he left his lights on at night to help him stay awake, or just how long it would take Tsunade and Sakura to force sleeping pills down his throat.
There was a short jostling and a rush of strawberry-scented air as Sakura pulled out the stool next to him and sat down. "I'll have a miso ramen, please," she said to the young girl standing behind the counter. "Hello, Naruto," she said placidly.
He looked up at her with a strange expression. "Hi..." Sakura never joined him for ramen after missions; or, at least, she hadn't in a while... not for a couple of months, now.
"I thought some miso ramen sounded like a really nice treat after that mission." She sighed and stretched her arms out over her head.
He took a moment to admire the view—hey, he was a guy, even if he didn't really like her like that anymore—before turning back to his noodles and slurping up a large helping. He didn't reply immediately, instead choosing to stare into his noodles again for a moment. "So..." he began, shifting through his mental files for a topic concerning her, "how's it going with Bushy Eyebrows?" He glanced at her.
"Ugh. Are you ever going to drop that ridiculous nickname for him?" she said in an annoyed tone, while blushing bright red.
"Hey, hey, hey," he said, dropping his chopsticks for a moment, "you used to call him that too! Don't deny it!"
She rolled her eyes and took a pack of chopsticks out of the nearby holder. She slipped them out of the wrapping, snapped them open, and whispered "Itadakimasu" before digging into her noodles.
All was silent for a little while, except for the large "SLLLLLLLLLLLRP"s of Naruto's guzzling. Then, she said, "You know, I talked to Tsunade..."
Naruto groaned. "AUGH. Get off my back, people!" Ichiraku's owner looked at him strangely. "I am doing just fine, thanks very much! I don't need any pills, I don't need any therapy. For God's sake, I don't even need all these people worrying about me."
Sakura sighed. "Are you sure? You look absolutely horrid." She grimaced at him.
He shot her a sarcastic smile. "Gee, thanks, Sakura. You're gorgeous, too." He leaned down and tried to smother himself in his noodles. He came away with a sopping chin and a noodle hanging out of his nose.
Sakura made a disgusted face, and handed him a napkin.
"But... you're sure...?" she asked again, twirling her chopsticks in a fashion vaguely reminiscent of Hinata.
"Positive."
Naruto was in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was 3:03am. He didn't have to look at his clock because he had checked two minutes ago, and yes, to every asshat in Konohagakure's shock, Naruto could, in fact, do simple math. He threw an arm over his eyes and waited... and waited... and waited...
When he opened his eyes again, everything had that surreal, dream-like quality about it; that's how he knew he was dreaming.
Well, that, and the fact that he was standing in a burning field in the middle of God-knows-where, stark-naked and shivering, despite that it was July.
He wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed his arms vigorously, hoping to generate some heat. He looked around the field, squinting his eyes at the orange flames that licked their way across the grass, growing closer and closer to him.
As he watched, a figure began to appear. It flickered in the flames as it approached. But he could tell that it was a male, and that male had a sword, drawn and hanging from his hand.
He walked with an odd limp, one that Naruto knew he had actually caused, when he ran a Rasengan through the boy's leg some six months ago. He had drilled into bone and the boy's bones had regrown wrong, causing a painful limp. He was still a ninja, though. He would always be a ninja—until he killed That Man, at least.
Sasuke emerged from the flames, completely unharmed ("Well, duh! It's a dream, dip-shit," Naruto helpfully reminded himself) and holding his katana loosely at his side. The expression on his face was a content one. Naruto relished the humanity in it.
"Naruto," Sasuke said in greeting. His voice was soft, but it held a hint of edge beneath the words.
"Sssassuk-ke," he stuttered. Why was it so cold, when there was a roaring fire not ten feet from him on all sides?
The dark-haired missing-nin raised his katana languidly and ran the sharpened edge along the crease between Naruto's neck and shoulder. The blond rolled his head away from the touch and closed his eyes in pleasure.
Then there was a hand at his ear, on the side opposite the blade, and it turned his face forward. He opened his eyes to find Sasuke's. The obsidian eyes glinted a murky kind of orange in the firelight, and there was a hint of amusement in them, a hint of dark glee.
Naruto groaned and put his hand over the one on his ear. Sasuke leaned forward, holding the blade steady, and pressed their lips together. Naruto reacted violently, knocking the blade aside with his shoulder and twisting his hands up into Sasuke's black locks. He closed his eyes in the pleasure of the action; the wet heat, the taste of Sasuke (like fire ash and tempura), the feeling of Sasuke's hand clenching and unclenching suddenly in the hair at his temple.
All too soon, though, Sasuke had pulled his head back and gasped for breath. His pupils had dilated and he was licking his lips every few seconds.
Naruto whispered, "I m-m-missed you... I didn't e-e-even ssssleep, because I knew I w-wouldn't see you. And I can't b-bear that disappointment."
Sasuke laughed, soft and dark. "I think we both know why you can't really sleep." He drew back, letting his hand fall. In a flash, he was behind Naruto, with the katana pressed against the other's neck. Naruto breath caught in his throat, and he felt hypersensitive to the one hand on his chest (brushing idly back and forth, back and forth) and the cool touch of steel on his neck. He choked down a small moan with a swallow and rasped out one word:
"Why?"
Sasuke leaned into until his lips were touching his ear. "Because you love dying so much. You can't get this high," he said, pressing the blade in harder for emphasis, "unless you've been close to death. Until you can smell the blood of the dying as you slit their throat, or as you rip through them with a Rasengan. You need to have that moment where you think I just killed someone before you can actually sleep and see me and die again." He pulled back again and walked around Naruto's quivering form.
He held the blade up at the level of Naruto's heart, smirking at him with the dark amusement showing full in his black-black-black eyes. There was a crackling sound, before the sound of a thousand birds chirping filled the night air and overcame the sounds of flames crackling all around them.
Then Sasuke ran the Chidori-blade straight through his heart. Sasuke pressed his lips to Naruto's mouth just before everything went black.
He woke up, drenched in sweat and body nearly convulsing from ecstasy. He gasped loudly and shoved his hand beneath the covers and began to grind his erection into his palm. He came with a muffled shout of "Fuck, Sasuke!"
He fell back to his bed, limp and panting. He opened his eyes to stare at his ceiling and let the tears he was always holding back run from his eyes into the hair at his temples.
People asked him why he couldn't sleep, he told them he was restless; people asked him if he was okay, he told them he was fine; people asked him if he was bitter over Sasuke's betrayal or his death, he told them he had come to realize that their separation had been inevitable.
He was a liar. He was a liar, and his Dream-Sasuke was right. The only thing that kept him going anymore was dying.
author's note the second: Reviews? They would be received like food given to a starving man... -hearts-