I don't know what to say about this. Except, "It's super hard to write original stories," and "Fanfiction ftw."
Enjoy :D !
Today Sasuke is going to write.
He is going to write and write and write and he won't stop until he's written a best seller, a chart-topper, the great American novel.
No more procrastination!
Sasuke warily sits down on the sofa, his laptop in his hands. The almighty Checklist of Chores demands his attention then, and he goes through it one more time. The shopping is done. The carpeted upstairs is vacuumed, counters and downstairs tiles scrubbed. He once let himself get off writing to clean out the fridge; but that's been done, too. Everything in there is organized, none of it is rotting/molding yet. Which should be good enough for him, even being the tight-ass Uchiha (people claim) he is.
He has made himself some hot chocolate (because the coffee thing is sooo overdone, and he doesn't wanna get wired, since ideas should come naturally) and has pulled all the pillows off his bed so he can be comfortable in the living room (with the windows wide open, so he won't let himself fall asleep). He takes a minute to breathe, then opens the laptop and presses the power button.
The windows icon comes up; then the login screen.
The password is "itachisuckfiredeath". Sasuke presses enter and opens up Microsoft Word (because it's free with the computer, that's why). And then he leans forward, his fingers on asdf and jkl;, and…
…leans back again.
…Of course, he needs some material first.
So. Brainstormy time.
…Well, he'll start with a genre. How about adventure? Or, something of the like. He can change it later if he wants to, so he shouldn't confine himself to a genre just yet.
…And now he needs a focus/theme-y thing. Uh. Well, let's see what other authors are using. Stephenie Meyer: (oh god the name burns his tongue, even if he doesn't say it out loud) author of the Twilight series. Focus: Vampires. Rick Riordan: author of the Percy Jackson series. Focus: Greek gods. J.K. Rowling: author of Harry Potter. Focus: magic.
So. A focus. Uh.
…Uh.
Okay. Different approach. Let's try… characters. Alright. The main character would definitely be a guy, in all his guy-ness glory. 'Cuz stories that have girls in it are romances. Bleh. Alright, moving on before Sasuke gives himself the creeps.
Okay, his main character… A guy. Name… uh… god, can't he think of anything? Alright… how old is he… well, who is Sasuke's audience? Young adults…? …Okay… let's go with that. So… the age… in his teens. Fifteen seems safe… much safer than those books that have 13-year olds saving the world and stuff when they've barely hit puberty.
Alright. So, fifteen. He should be… hm… what traits are reminiscent of a hero…? Well… They're usually not well liked at the beginning of the story… maybe because their family has a bad reputation, or because of something they did or that was done to them as a child. Maybe they're an orphan, and are lonely…? Maybe they're still able to be positive, and they can make friends easily when people actually notice them. Hmm…
Okay, now we're getting somewhere! Finally! Sasuke congratulates himself.
So, his main character. A boy. When the story starts (when Sasuke gets around to actually typing something, hopefully in a few minutes) he isn't very well liked. There is a reason for this (that Sasuke still hasn't thought of yet) but the boy still has hope, so he keeps trying to make friends, and because he's charismatic and likeable and all that jazz he can do it.
Wait… back to the drawing board. Well, not entirely. He just needs a name.
… Fuck.
"Naruto."
He spits the word out like it's the swear that popped into his mind with it. In all actualities, it is a swear. The name is a taboo; "Dobe" replaced it (and a lot of other things he didn't want to talk about) a long time ago. Seriously, it's just coincidence that his new character design-y thingy sounds just like his old friend from high school, sounds just like it's describing—
"Naruto," Sasuke murmurs again.
And then he has an idea.
It is not a good idea. It is a horrible one. Oh god it's a horrible idea, why the hell did that come into his mind and why does he feel such obligation to execute it, why, dammit? He wants to just forget it but now that it's in his head he can't, simply can't forget it, can't leave it there floating around his head forever, because he knows that's what it'll do if he doesn't comply with its demands.
He has to do it. Even if it makes his veins light on fire like some chemical IV drip… even if it makes his lips dry and his stomach twist into knots like when he was younger and Itachi stopped being nice Itachi.
He has to do it.
In the end it takes Sasuke hours to get it all down in type. He feels like he's about to be sick as he types the last letters—the deed done, he goes to the bathroom and retches into the toilet a few times. Nothing comes up but the last poor dredges of his pride. He flushes anyway.
(He calls The Dobe. The Dobe answers in typical form, all smiles that Sasuke can't see and all cheery insults and all "I haven't heard from you in fuck, Sasuke, how's that 'author of the great American novel' thing working out for you?")
(Sasuke answers in typical form, all Uchiha copyrighted glares that The Dobe can't see and all scathing comments and all "Well, I typed up a rough draft and I'm—" he swallows here, maybe he should try retching again because his stomach is rejecting even the few sips of hot chocolate he's had—"I'm lacking an editor, or, you know, even someone to just show it to. Do you wanna read it and tell me what you think?")
(There is a silence.)
(The Dobe replies in an atypical form. Sasuke expects The Dobe to give a smirk that Sasuke won't see, laugh derisively, and ask, "Don't you have any other friends?" seconds before he promptly hangs up.)
(This isn't what The Dobe does.)
(What The Dobe does do, however, is smile. Sasuke can't see it, of course, since it's over the phone, but The Dobe's expressions usually match his tone of voice, and The Dobe's tone of voice is sweet, sugary-sweet, when he murmurs, "Sure, Sasuke," in response.)
(Sasuke doesn't like sweet things. He has learnt to avoid them, suspect them, and plot behind their backs. Anything good for you tastes bitter, the same way medicine does.)
("Anything to help the great aspiring author!" The Dobe continues, when Sasuke doesn't say anything. "Do you wanna bring the manuscript over here or should I come to you? I still have your address, you know.")
(As if Sasuke could forget.)
("You can come over here. I'm about to print it out," Sasuke says swiftly. His hand tightens into a fist on his thigh, and it stings but he tries not to make noise. He would do anything if the burning pain in his stomachheartbodyeverywhere would just go away.)
(The Dobe says, "Okay, Sasuke. I'll be there in a few minutes, " and hangs up.)
(Sasuke puts the phone down. He stands there silently for a few minutes until the nausea overwhelms him, and he drags himself back to the bathroom to vomit stomach acid and cocoa and maybe even cry a little bit.)
(Somehow Sasuke gets up and cleans himself up and hooks his laptop up to the printer and prints his writing before The Dobe arrives. He stacks some papers under the ones that have writing on it in order to make it look like more material is there, and staples the whole thing together. His legs are shaky but he is steady enough to walk down the stairs without crippling himself.)
Waiting for The Dobe is the hardest part.
Sasuke's having trouble breathing. He really just wants to call The Dobe back and cancel, tell him he needs to make a few tweaks, or, he's accidentally deleted the file, so he needs to type it up again oh this sucks, but he can't steady his voice enough to speak, to make any other noises than "What have I done?" and "Fuckdammit."
This… this thing is so distressing to him; he has always cracked under pressure, that's why Itachi had taught him to avoid stressful situations—
He can pull himself together when he can imagine Itachi's stern disappointment in him. No matter how much he hates his bastard brother, secretly he has always been inspired and motivated by him, and it allows Sasuke to breathe deeply and collect himself. The cup of cold hot chocolate is still on the coffee table and he drinks the rest instead of washing it down the drain.
His pride comes back to him; he wants to beat it back into the hole from whence it came.
(The Dobe goes to knock on the door, but Sasuke has already seen him through the open windows and preempts him with a feeble, "Come in.")
(The door opens.)
Sasuke is waiting for The Dobe on the sofa, right there to the left of the door but with his back to it. His hands tremble when The Dobe greets him. The papers are stacked in his lap.
"Hey," The Dobe says. "It's pretty cold out there this time of year, huh?"
Sasuke replies with a "Hn." He stands on wobbly legs as his guest rids himself of his coat and scarf.
(This is the kind of fear that makes him immobile, steals all his steadiness away from him.)
"…I haven't heard or seen from you in a while, Sasuke," The Dobe says.
"…Sorry," Sasuke mutters into his collar. The Dobe seems perplexed by his submissive response. Sasuke shuffles his feet and watches the floor.
(The floor is a much easier thing to watch than Naruto is. Naruto tends to shatter him and not pick up the mess.)
"…That the manuscript?" The Dobe asks. He points to the papers in Sasuke's hand.
"Hn," Sasuke responds. The distance between his and The Dobe's hands is ridiculous, but somehow the papers accomplish the feat of crossing it and make it safely over to The Dobe.
(Naruto flips open the papers.)
The first two pages are blank, but the writing starts on the third.
(Sasuke builds a little box inside his mind for just himself to hide, and crawls into it. The floor is still unmoving, although the world is undoubtedly shaking.)
(There is silence while Naruto reads.)
"Sasuke," Naruto says. He's laughing. "Sasuke, look at me, will you?" He's laughing, full of pure joy and happiness and rainbows and words and sentences and one sentence, on the third page out of fifty.
Sasuke glances up, surprised and only a tad less than hopeful.
(He has learnt not to expect anything, in case he's let down.)
Naruto's expression matches his tone.
(Naruto is smiling.)
The papers are tossed to the sofa, where they bounce and fall to the ground. Naruto does not care. He reaches out for Sasuke and hugs the damned Uchiha, hugs tightly because he knew he shouldn't have let go in the first place.
"…Do you… What do you think…?" Sasuke asks. His vision comes back to his control, his eyes swivel and he's actually seeing the floor instead of his deepest subconscious mind. Hot tears stem from the face pressed in his neck, and only then does he hold Naruto back, like a lifeline, because he knows he shouldn't have let go in the first place.
"It's the great American novel," Naruto whispers.
(Naruto, I love you.)