A/N: Oh man. Ramen cravings rn.
"A Single Taste Away"
"Miso ramen! I've always wanted this!"
A small blonde boy, seemingly at the age of five; eagerly held a pack of noodles against his little chest, his small fingers grasping at the plastic tightly it almost broke.
"This is great dad! Wait, where are you going dad?"
In the corner of his blue eyes, he saw a shadow move past him carrying a heavy bag.
"Oh, are you going to get me more ramen? Is that it dad?"
Suddenly there were screams. And the breaking of vases. More screams.
"Dad… dad, why is mom screaming?"
The shadow continued to move further away-
"Dad, why is she crying? Is it… my ramen?"
Despite the screeching sounds that emanated from inside the house, he heard the unmistakable creaking of the doorway as it was opened.
"Dad? I don't need Ramen anymore… Don't go… Dad?"
The screaming got louder.
"Dad?"
He gripped the small pack of ramen closer-
"… why are you crying Dad?"
It was raining outside, the sky was gray and the dullness of it all crept up his skin and lingered there, making him shiver. Torn and crumbling buildings surrounded the area, greeting their sight from the slightly parted curtains. His rigid form watched the placid scenery, but those once lively blue eyes said otherwise.
The coldness seeped through the transparent windows of the hotel, forming a mist along the see-through glass and covering them both from prying eyes. He sat in bed and curled himself into a ball, the blanket being the only covers to his nude body.
"It's on the bedside table. Don't call me again, I'll just tell you when. I'll be busy from now on."
The blonde lying on the bed sent a curt nod in the direction of the other man who just spoke across the room, busily buttoning up his business suit with one hand; and the other holding the knob of a wooden door.
Not even sparing him a single glance, the raven haired male made his exit and left the room without a sound while another pair of eyes looked up to watch his black locks flutter as he passed out the door.
The tan blonde sighed when the last traces of warmth left the room. It was always so abrupt. He can never get used to the emptiness.
Realizing the sudden burst of coldness, he opted to wrap himself tighter around the blanket, making a small cocoon.
He shouldn't have called. No, Sasuke had already warned him not to do so. He was a very busy man- especially since his engagement was nearing.
It was in… when was it again? Oh, yes; the same day as his birthday, right?
And that also meant that he couldn't be bothered with stupid, trivial things.
Stupid, trivial things- like Naruto, for instance.
It was nothing really. He just had that urge to see him again. After being raped at his part time job. Again.
Oh, no. It wasn't really considered rape if the sex was consensual, was it?
He wanted some Ramen, he really did.
But for some reason, when the familiar aroma from the bedside table reached his senses, he couldn't tell why he suddenly felt sick. The bile rose to his throat and he bit his tongue- too forcefully so that he felt the salty taste of metal run through his taste buds.
He didn't want to lie- it tasted of nothing, and it never filled this emptiness. He wondered if he could still remember the last time he tasted any of it at all.
So why…? Just why does he ask for it every time they do it? Sasuke- or any other man he had slept with for that matter.
It was an obsession. An obsession he couldn't get rid of, and he thought with a smile; it would be the death of him someday.
Oh, the irony of it all.
And yet Sasuke, he… He's always been so cold.
But he couldn't get rid of the pale man out of his system. A day could never pass without him tasting the ramen he gave him, nor the scent he carried along; wafting against his nose whenever they made love. A mix of aircon, soap, papers and bleaching powders.
Much like ramen, Sasuke; whether he'd like to admit it or not, had also become an addiction.
Those dark, mysterious pools of black that looked- but never really saw him; those long, slender fingers that held but never caressed; that deep, baritone voice echoing across the sickening and suffocating walls of this small hotel room- it had consumed him thoroughly, marking him as his- body and soul.
He didn't know what caused him to be dragged further into another dangerous obsession. One was enough, wasn't it? Oh, but no; he just had to get hooked all over again. And just like always, every single damn time; it was his body who took the toll. Well, not that he actually cared.
As the cold breeze swooshed across the hotel window along with the occasional raps of little raindrops, Naruto tried to hold himself tighter. Because, really; he was the only one to hold himself against the coldness after all. Physical pain was never a bother; and so was the emotional one… at first.
Yes. At first.
Ever since that day, that day when he- Sasuke- held his hand out to him; stared straight at his wide, tear-tracked blue eyes with his deep, frigid onyx one's… He could remember it all vividly.
At the pub… all alone… no one…
…Dad?
…Dad? Is that you? ... Have you… finally bought me ramen?
Mom?
You're not going to hit me, are you mom?
I'm not dad, mom…
The neighbors say it's dirty, what you do to me.
But… But if it makes you happy… okay…
You both used to love me so much, right?
We used to have ramen together, always- right?
We used to be so happy.
…Mom? Dad?
…Are you even there?...
…Are you… even going to come back and take me too?
"Come with me."
And he did.
He let those slim fingers that reached out to his, grab him and drag him away; away from everything else. Let that deep, comforting voice carry him far from here-
He let Sasuke take him; hearing those words he'd wanted to hear for a long time.
Come with me.
He had said it so warmly. He had given him ramen. He had called his name.
He had reached out his hand.
…And they had sex.
Just like every other day.
Just like every other man.
As Naruto lay in that empty bed, the other leaving just as soon as he was dressed; the blonde's numb mind began to register the fact that his so-called onyx-eyed angel had called out another girl's name.
It had happened many times after that. Frequent were his 'visits', so frequents that it's as if the whiskered male practically lived in the hotel. Paying him for each and every session, along with the stacks of instant ramen- Miso soup, as he'd told him before- and the lingering burn, so harsh, so painful- ironically it was cold- continued to etch itself deeper every time.
Sakura… Sakura…
He wondered- Who is she?
She must be very beautiful. And perfect. Otherwise… Otherwise what? Even he didn't know how to end that statement.
And so, here he finds himself again. Shivering and nude despite the cold. Embracing his own body tightly because that was all he could hold- and the retribution for selling every inch of his physique stood within an arms reach from him.
He had become addicted to Sasuke's ramen. That bitter-sweet taste that made him want to throw up. That unbearable smell so intoxicating, it reminded him everyday just why that sinfully beautiful, unbearably cold and perfect man; holds him in his arms. That suffocating aroma that grips his throat. The burning soup running down his tongue, scorching him inside and out.
It had tasted of something. Something… He tasted something- and that's never happened since… since… well, for a very long time.
It tasted…
Painful.
There was a sudden loud crash beside him, the clanking of the broken bowl resonating in the almost bare room and its contents now dripping on the carpeted floor. With a slight hint of surprise, he realized that he hadn't noticed his own hand wandering over to the other side of the bed, reaching… reaching out for something… And it touched the rim of the porcelain bowl containing the fresh ramen Sasuke had bought today.
Feeling the warmness of it all corrupting him- burning every inch of his being.
And after that he had seen nothing but black. Dark, endless black. Blackness that frightened him, yet comforted him at the same time. A swirl of emotions he often had when the coldness settled in despite the fake, sickening warmth.
And then the ramen was gone. And the bowl was broken.
And the contents dripped sloppily on the ground, mimicking the trail of transparent, salty liquid on his whiskered cheeks.
"You do as I say… and it would be all right."
He heard him whisper conspiratorially against his ear, the restraining hold he put on those small wrists tightening considerably.
Disgust ran down his spine.
"... en…"
But his stomach grumbled along with the pang in his chest.
"What?"
And so the little blonde boy did what only a five year old could think of.
"I said do you… have ramen? A-anything… I'll do anything. Give me some… p-please?"
He laughed. A crazy, malicious laugh. Like the devil that just tricked someone into giving him their soul.
"Are you crazy kid? Do you know what you're saying!?"
Deep blue eyes attempted to look at him directly, mustering up all the courage his young self could gather.
"Yes… sir. Please. I want miso ramen."
At that, he grinned devilishly and grabbed his frail, shaking arms.
"Crazy kid."
His rough hands traced the outline of those round jaws, and he leaned in to press a disgustingly soft peck on a scarred cheek.
"Miso ramen it is."
At that point all he remembered was the darkness that engulfed him.
And the fact that it tasted of nothing at all as he ate afterwards.
"I… know… I just wanted to ask if you're okay. Or maybe if you… if you'll come home early tonight…"
"I'm busy. Quit bothering me, damnit."
There was a loud clack at the other end of the line and it exploded against Naruto's eardrums, making him cringe at the sting it brought.
Sasuke… Sasuke… Always so cold… Yet always so beautiful.
For the first time in years, he allowed himself a small frown.
Had he heard that right? Sakura, Sakura… Someone had called in the background…
Sakura.
What a pretty name.
Sasuke must like it a lot.
He turned his head to stare at the mess he made on the floor. The bits of noodles had turned cold and dry, losing their warmth and color. His feet was bleeding, small pieces of the broken bowl piercing his skin. He couldn't feel it… no… there was nothing left to feel anymore… Blood. It was red. It was very pretty too, so he smiled to himself.
Sasuke… if I died… would you feel sorry for me?
Would you cry?
Or would you not care and marry your precious Sakura-chan?
He opted not to think much of it and, once again, grabbed the phone beside him and dialed.
"Sasuke?"
"What!? I thought I told you not to call? I'm pretty damn busy, can't you see!?"
"Sorry… Sasuke… but… can I see you right now?"
"Who the hell are you kidding? A whore who demands on the customer? Are fucked up or something!? Fine, I'll just give you Miso Ramen after the wedding okay? And then you can go fuck off somewhere."
"No, I-"
"What? Isn't that why you're sticking with me? Because I can give you more than what those wrinkly customers of yours could offer?"
"I… really want to see you, Sasuke."
"God, you're so irritating! Look, it's my wedding today- what the hell is wrong with you? Worried that you're main benefactor would disappear? Stop bothering me, I said I'd give you more after this, didn't I!?"
"… Sasuke I-"
There was a click. And the line went dead once more.
Realization hit him slowly, slow as the evaporating soup splattered on the floor.
Oh.
So it was his birthday today, huh?
"Mom… mom, let me go; please…"
Shivering, shaking. Trembling uncontrollably, his weak build cowered at his mother's touch.
"What!? So you can leave me just like what your bastard of a father did!? Huh!? Are you sick of me too Naruto, are you!?"
Her hands had an iron grip on his small neck, depriving him of air; straining his lungs and choking him. Those hands, wrapped so tightly around him; those hands that used to pat him before going to bed… those hands that used to be so warm with affection… so full of comfort…
He cried out louder as she tightened her grip.
"ANSWER ME!"
The tears came flowing faster, his breathing almost stopped.
"N-no… mom… I won't… I-I love you mom…"
Her fingers loosened momentarily, a crazed smile graced her features.
"That's a good boy. You won't leave mommy, right Naruto? You'll never leave me…"
He gasped as he felt his own mother's hand travel underneath his shirt. With fearful eyes he stared right up at his mother, begging.
"M-mom… no- s-sto-"
There was a resonating slap and another scream from the small boy as a broken bottle of liquor came into contact with his cheek.
"Don't you dare talk back to me now, you insolent child! You look just like your rotten father, and you're just as rotten as him! Making promises- then breaking them the next!"
He stared with fright at the woman looming above him while holding his bleeding cheeks in one hand. The insane glint in her eyes never faded as she continued to undress and ravish her own son, her own flesh and blood.
And halfway through, she didn't notice that the boy had stopped crying, simply putting on a blank, broken face that fitted a corpse.
For the hundredth time that day, he watched as the raindrops continued to water over the broken city he knew as home.
Once more, he cradled himself within the blankets, pathetically trying to ease off all those pain.
Those memories.
Those scars.
Those tears.
That taste.
Right now, all he wanted to was cry; cry his heart out and maybe even drown himself along. But no matter how hard he tried, nothing came out of his pallid eyes; so dull in shade and tainted over time.
He has no more tears to spare.
The ramen was… the ramen was always there.
This pain that stuck to him like a plague; why? He never left. He had nowhere else to go.
It was Sasuke's Ramen. It had always been Sasuke's Ramen.
Sasuke's Ramen- the reason he stayed, the reason he let that hand drag him away on that faithful day.
It had been the Ramen… right?
Always, always…
His eyes drifted close.
To a sleep he knew he would never wake up from.
No. It had never been the Ramen.
And the bottle of drugs, empty and bare; slid out of his slack hands, clattering loudly as it hit the wet floor.
You do anything long enough to escape the habit of living, until the escape becomes a habit.
Police men littered the gates of the once almost abandoned hotel, their sirens resonating throughout the streets and surrounding the place.
Three police officers were gathered around the spot where a chalk marking replica of the body was drawn.
"The body was found by the maid when she came in at exactly four o'clock. She said the man was a regular here at the hotel."
The other rubbed his chin at this and contemplated on the markings down the floor.
"Seems to me as if it was suicide, judging from the empty bottle on the floor. Took 'em in one gulp, maybe."
"What were the things found in the scene?" another man asked.
"Here chief. Look at these."
The other police officer who spoke earlier held up four bags, each containing the materials found within the crime scene. One carried an empty plastic bottle, about the size of one hand; the other broken pieces seemingly from a porcelain bowl; next were strands of dry noodles.
"What about that last bit?"
He held up the last bag for better view. In it was a piece of paper, the handwriting almost inaudible since it was scrawled, as if in a haste.
"Oh, this? It's a letter."
"A letter?"
Their conversation was interrupted when they heard a voice shouting violently from afar.
"Excuse me! Damnit, move out of the way! Let me fucking through!"
The police men approached the commotion and gathered around the man, seemingly in his twenties; wearing a black tux and looking as if he had just rushed out of bed, black raven hair in a mess and disarray.
"What's your name sonny?"
"Uchiha- Uchiha Sasuke! My- that person- I need to see him, I-I need to tell him something, I… please- He's in there and-"
"Wait a sec- Did you say 'Sasuke'?"
"Yes, why? Look, this is important; I really need to-"
"Then Uzumaki Naruto, I presume; addressed this to you…"
"W-what…?"
The man handed him the piece of paper from earlier, enveloped in plastic wrapping so as not to erase the finger prints.
"He was found dead at exactly four o'clock this evening."
For a moment, shock came across the raven haired man's face, his color visibly turning pale as his eyes travelled across the paper.
Time stopped. And he couldn't breathe.
The men surrounding him looked completely puzzled as tears slowly ran down his cheeks onto the plastic surface.
You know what, Sasuke? I figured it all out.
It wasn't the ramen. It had never been.
It was you.
It's always been you that I came back for.
Funny, huh?
-Naruto
P.S. Not Sakura anymore, k?
The floorboards creaked as she stepped into the room, her frightened green eyes searching along the mess that was once the glorious Uchiha compound.
It had been a week after Sasuke abruptly ran away from their marriage, suddenly declaring that he had someone else. Someone he treasured. Someone worth giving everything up for.
Of course she had been furious. Nobody takes away what's Haruno Sakura's, especially not one rich and dashing Uchiha Sasuke.
She tried to step past all the trash littered on the floor, additionally covering her nose at the stench that came along with it. It smelled so putrid here, she thought. How gross. Whatever happened here, she didn't want to find out.
Noticing the faint light coming from the slight crack at the door from Sasuke's room, she walked down the hall and eagerly peeked in, expecting to see Sasuke asleep like always.
What she saw made her eyes widen and utter a frightened gasp of horror.
The room wasn't any better than the outside, practically covered in packs of Miso Ramen; stacks of rotting bowls placed against any available surface.
And in there was Sasuke, his face thinner and paler than usual; a crazy, desperate smile plastered on his pale lips; sitting on the left side of the bed as he held a bowl of ramen on one hand, a spoon on the other.
Next to him, there sat Naruto; unnaturally pale, cold and unmoving, bits of cotton stuffed in his nose and ears. Half of his body was propped up against a pillow that rested against the beds headboard.
His eyes were closed and so were his lips, so still and lifeless; as lifeless as a dead person could be.
And as Sasuke reached out his hand holding the spoon, he cooed; as a child would to his favorite doll,
"Look Naruto, it's Miso Ramen; won't you eat some? Come on, say ah… I…I've bought you so many…"
And she fled from the house as if the devil was on her heels, never ever planning to come back.
"And, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of Heaven so fine,
That all the world will be in love with night;
And pay no worship to the garish sun."
fin
CnC, ya know?
