1.

Some are born mad. Some remain so.
-Samuel Beckett

I never did like the summers. Even when I was just a little kid they had always bothered me day in and day out until I would finally give in and join my dog Pakkun on the floor. I would always watch him lay there on his fat stomach panting and drooling as though he had ran a marathon. It was the kind of sight that is amusing to watch at first but then slowly becomes boring; almost like everything that I encounter in my life.

I fan myself and glance over at the T.V. that is currently on the weather network. Extremely humid and hot the weather-man says almost enthusiastically which makes me almost want to chuckle out loud. Who is he trying to fool? No one in their right mind would be happy about this kind of weather. Well, no one but Obito at least; the idiot who was always so enthusiastic about everything that he would even think having a heat wave in the middle of June was a gift from God.

"Am I right Obito?" I ask out loud knowing that no one is there to reply back.

No one there to reply back...

It's funny that the silence still bothers me when I sit in my kitchen drinking my morning coffee and Obito's favourite tune would come on from the radio. Even after so many years it still bothers me.

A knock startles me from my routinely thoughts of Obito. Sadness gets the best of me whenever anyone interrupts me from thinking about my deceased lover. But then I am almost relieved at the same time. Relieved that I no longer have to think about that goofy smile that I miss so much; the taste of those lips that I still long for.

"You're such bad kisser Kakashi!"

I place my green fan down and lazily make my way to the door knowing exactly who it is. With this kind of weather staying seated only makes things worse seeing as how everything sticks on sweaty skin and makes a wet ripping sound when you get off your ass. Not that walking is any better but it does beat sweat stained skin ripping off leather by a long shot.

I reach over to the door knob and pull open the door, welcoming the humid air onto my face and into my apartment. With no more than I slight nod, I greet Itachi Uchiha as I know his reason for being here.

"Rent?" I ask half smiling and half scratching my head to rid myself of an imaginary itch as I rest myself on the side of the doorway.

He nods in response and slowly reaches into his pocket to take out the check. Without as much as a grunt he hands it over to me and stays in silence. I look at him for a while and examine his features.

Nothing.

Not a slightest bit of emotion on that face of his. I have known him since he was a teenager and it's always been the same. Whether people would come up and try to talk to him or greet him it's always that same emotionless reaction. Occasionally they would try to start up a conversation by prying into his personal life and asking him about his family affairs, his social life, and etc. But he'd always just nod and send them away, showing them that he couldn't care less. I guess he has more important things to worry about then to get involved with anybody.

I take the check and glance at it curiously. Not that I suspect him of fraud or anything, I just find the way he always makes the check out to me a bit fascinating.

"Mr. Hatake" it says across the check. He never just addresses me by just "Kakashi" like any other person who has known me for a reason amount of years. It's always "Mr. Hatake" even when he talks to me. I do wish he would drop the formality though since there's just something about it that lacks intimacy among friends. That is, if that's even our relationship. But if that's part of his eccentricity then I have no right to tell him to stop. I know I wouldn't want anyone telling that I couldn't talk the imaginary presence of Obito in my house.

"Is there a problem Mr. Hatake?" he asks with emphasis on the formality almost as though he knows that it would bother me. Again, that same smug look even when he teases someone.

"No, thank you. But you do know that you didn't have to pay until the end of the month right? It's still early," I say trying to ignore his previous sarcasm.

"I prefer to get things out of the way."

"I see," I say glancing at the eye-catching handwriting again. He always pays two weeks before the rent is actually due.

He turns around to leave and as usual without a "Goodbye" or a "See you later." He tucks his hands into the pockets of his black shorts and walks off lightly; back to the first floor that he and his brother lives on.

"Goodbye Itachi, have a nice day!" I shout out with a smile for the first time that I have known him in seven years.

He suddenly stops and glances back at me as though I had offended him in some way. He scoffs and continues to walk back to his apartment without a second glance. And then he disappears down the stairs as his footsteps die down.

Perhaps I did offend him in some way…

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Summer is the one season that I truly detest. Unlike some people who hate it for its humidity and its hotness, I hate it for its reminder of flesh rotting in the hot weather and the smell that results from the days it has been baking in the heat. I remember the first time I smelt it I wanted to vomit on the spot. But perhaps my fear struck so bad that I could not even perform that simple task. Finding both my parents killed and left there for days to rot will never leave my mind as long as I am alive. Maybe Sasuke was too young at the time to comprehend the situation since I refused to let him enter the house. But as he became older he began to realize the truth and closed himself off to the world around him. Perhaps he has lost all trust in people seeing as how he realized the extent of the cruelty of humanity. With me though I had lost trust in humans way before the murder as my father would always remind me of how "cruel" and "evil" they were each day. His frequent alcohol fueled cursing about the family business going downhill was enough to give me a vivid image of the world of adults. A world full of deceit and backstabbing that almost made me hate growing up in fear that I might become one of them someday.

So the murder was not much of a surprise for me, it was more of an epiphany of how cruel and evil humans can be.

I almost chuckle at the irony behind the murder. How it is so ironic that my parents were killed in the middle of the living-room where I caught them both having sex there one night when I got up to go to the bathroom.

Fate truly does know how to keep one entertained…

The sound of the door opening brings me back to reality as I look up and spot our building's grey haired landlord.

"Mind if I drop in?" he asks me causally even though already knows my answer.

I nod in response like I always do whenever he decides to drop by unannounced. I don't know why he even bothers to ask since he already knows that I'm accustomed to his visits after I drop off the rent. Perhaps it is an attempt at politeness.

"So where's your miniature clone?" he asks with a hint of humour in his voice.

"You mean Sasuke, I presume?" I ask while heading to the kitchen to make some green tea. Mr. Hatake's favourite.

He chuckles with that idiotic attitude of his. "Are you saying there's someone else living with you and Sasuke?" He smirks while reaching for the furniture magazine that I had left out on the coffee table this morning.

"Should I be charging for an extra person, Itachi?"

I come back to the living room to wait until the water boils. Maybe I shouldn't even bother to boil the water for Mr. Hatake's tea. He always waits until it is completely cold before drinking it anyways. But I don't blame him, hotness is a disgusting feeling.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he asks me without looking away from the magazine, knowing full well that his sarcasm bothers me. Especially when I'm in a foul mood like today.

"No, I just don't see the point in replying to your stupid remarks."

"Rough night, huh kid?" he finally looks up and meets my eyes with his grey ones.

I turn around and walk back to the kitchen and pretend that I'm checking on the water. But in reality I just want to avoid another one of his pointless lectures that I always have to deal with whenever he decides to "drop by".

I hear the pages of the magazine rustle. The annoying sound of pages being turned. The sound that I was always used to hearing everyday when I came home from school when mother and father would go through furniture magazines and decide what they would like see in our small living room if they decided to renovate it. Sasuke would always peer over the coffee table in curiosity just to see what they were discussing. Of course, he didn't really understand the purpose behind flipping through those magazines seeing as how he was still too young. To him, it was just something grownups did.

"You know, silence doesn't answer my question."

"Well what would you like me to say?" I mumble while pouring the boiling water into the mugs containing green tealeaves. I concentrate on the water as it slowly changes into a light green to get my mind off of the disgusting warmth from the steam.

I hear an annoyed groan followed by the sound of the magazine being placed on the coffee table. Though, I could care less whether someone is annoyed with me or not.

I hear another groan, except this time the sound is a lot lazier. And closer. The sound of approaching footsteps don't faze me one bit since I'm used to this little habit of Mr. Hatake's. He always gets up and approaches me whenever he's annoyed or is getting ready to give me one of his many lectures that I never listen to. Right now I think it's a little bit of both, seeing as how I annoyed him by not answering his question which usually results in him giving me a lecture. It's like one can't exist without the other. He can't lecture me if I answer his questions and he can't ask questions if I listen to his lectures. All I have to do is cooperate with him and he'll leave me alone.

And yet I never do.

Strange. It's as strange as the man in the room below Sasuke and I who is always conversing loudly to nonexistent people in his room. Perhaps he and I would get along quite well.

His footsteps get closer. Their rhythm almost mimicking the ticking of the orange kitchen clock that Sasuke bought because he broke the last one. I still don't know what happened that day though. All I witnessed when I came home day was a young girl running pass me and crying while Sasuke was crouched in the middle of the kitchen gathering up the shards of broken glass from the old clock. I thought about asking him what happened though, but knowing Sasuke he probably wouldn't tell me anyways.

He never tells me anything.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, kid. You shouldn't stress yourself out," he says as he eyes me without any kind of emotion in his voice.

"I don't think you understand your place Mr. Hatake. You're not my parent, so I advise you to not waste your breath lecturing me. What I do does not concern you."

That usual looked that he gives me after I remind him that he is trespassing on forbidden territory crosses his face. It's neither a look of anger nor disappointment, just plain annoyance. The wonders of Mr. Hatake.

"I tried," he groans as he steps forward from the counter he was leaning on. He casually walks back to the living room probably to get his tea as his fading footsteps once again match the ticking of the kitchen clock. It baffles me that the simple sound of his footsteps gives me the feeling of ease and comfort. Its light sound almost makes me want to forget everything and go to a place without any burdens. I think I would be happy if all I had was an empty room and the sound of Mr. Hatake's footsteps fading in and out for the rest of my life.

My assumptions of Mr. Hatake retrieving his tea from the coffee table disappear as I see him opening the door to leave.

"Leaving so soon? What about your tea? You haven't even touched it." I say purely out of common courtesy.

"It's too warm," he says while closing the door behind him.

I smirk to myself while thinking about Mr. Hatake's strange state of mind. It's almost a relief to know that there is someone as strange as I am that exists in this cruel and dark world. Someone that is always in his own little world who regards anyone that tries to pry into his personal space a trespasser. Though he handles it better than I do by being nice and then brushing them off to avoid showing any kind of malice towards them. All it takes is one little lie to keep outsiders out of his world. It's almost like some sort of defense mechanism to ward off unwanted intruders. Though, I don't believe in lying. It's a waste of effort to even bother giving someone a false explanation of why you don't want to bother with them in the first place. Besides, lying and deception is what made this world such a dark place to live in. But sometimes, it's probably better to live with ignorance than with full awareness of the things that goes on in this life. At least, that's what I wish I was able to do.

Our circumstances may be the same, but the little lies that Mr. Hatake slips into his life are what make him and I so different from one another.

I take Mr. Hatake's cup to the kitchen to pour it out. Its content suddenly splashes on my hand as I approach the sink making me flinch and shattering the ceramic cup on the floor.

I curse under my breath (a habit I probably picked up from Mr. Hatake) as I rub my hand on the side of my pants quickly, trying to rid myself of the disgusting warmth that made contact with my skin. The warmth that made the hairs on my neck rise up as though a cold breeze had run down my neck. The last thing I need to remember the suffocating air of that mid-August afternoon that started all the turmoil in my life and Sasuke's.

I step over the glass, not caring whether the shards are piercing through the soles of my feet or are being pushed aside by my movements. Before, it was just the hot weather that bothered me, but now barely hot liquid that my landlord refuses to drink because of its temperature was enough to send me over the edge. I can only imagine how much worse this is going to get for me.

Instinctively, I lean against the counter to get a hold of myself. Lately, I've been a bit absentminded to my surroundings that even Sasuke has questioned me a few times about what is going on. Perhaps I should listen to Mr. Hatake's advice and take it easy. But then I don't exactly want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I actually listened to him. Taking it easy isn't going to help me figure out the murderer of the late Mr. and Mrs. Uchiha.

I slowly slide down towards the floor despite the amount of glass on the floor and ignoring the cuts the glass is making on my ankles.

As I rest my head against one of the doors of the cupboard, I look up at the clock and count the number of ticks I hear.

Tick tock…tick tock…

A/N: Thanks for reading Chapter 2 will be up shortly.