Disclaimer : I do not own Naruto or anything related to The Raw Shark Texts by Steven Hall. If you read the book, you'll see it in the first line.
Imporatant Notes : This takes place in 1989, during the AIDS epidemic. Yes, I thought of RENT while I was writing this, and was listening to the music. Also, some of the characters are bilingual, meaning they speak two languages fluently. If you are also fluent with any of the languages that come up, if I make a mistake, please tell me! I'll fix it right away. I'm depending on Google translate, which doesn't work the best. Haha. If you're confused about anything, just post a review or send me a private message!
Warnings : Contains frequent cursing by Hidan, amnesia-like diseases, laughing suns, etc etc.
A/N : Woah! New story everyone! Whoo! Okay, I have a pretty good idea for this, I think. But I'm not telling xD I'm so so so so so so SO sorry that I haven't gotten to Cell Phones yet x.X I'm trying, and I'm about 1/4 way through a chapter. But, it'll probably be a bit rushed. -sigh- I think I'll end it pretty soon. ANYWAY, enjoy the story! :D
Thanks : Vicky and Jake for reading through this first when it was still a rough draft in my notebook. Wouldn't have put this up here if it weren't for you! And it's a little different and I added onto it while you two weren't looking. -mwahaha-
Edits : Agh! Finally fixed the whole 'Jashinist' thing! I didn't catch it until I read it through the third time...-sweatdrop-
ITACHI POV
My eyes snapped open. I had stopped breathing.
Black spots hovered above my eyes as I gasped in quick, dry breaths. The dusty heaves – my crazed, dusty heaves – echoed lightly in what seemed like an empty room. My heartbeat thudded in my chest in a state of panic. I could feel the warmth of what felt like tears on my cheeks, but my vision was so blurred already I really could not tell.
'Calm down, calm down…' I thought softly, a sad, futile attempt to calm my jumping nerves.
I struggled up on my elbows, which shook under the sudden move. My joints made small pops, as if not being moved is so so so long. I tried to take in steady breaths, but each inhale and exhale was a shuddering heave.
I finally pushed myself onto my knees, slowly. I closed my eyes as I shifted to the new angle, and I could feel the sharp, static feeling behind them. I took in another shuddery breath and gently opened my eyes. The spots had not disappeared, but the static buzzed away quietly.
My shaking was also reduced to a soft tremble. I supposed that was a plus?
I brought the heels of my palms to my eyes. I had not noticed I had broken out into a cold sweat until then.
Rubbing away what were actually panicked tears upon waking up, I breathed in a steady, un-dusty, normal breath.
'Just relax. You're okay. I'm okay.'
As my sticky palms left my eyes, I squinted at the brightness of the room. A window was just conveniently about fifteen feet in front of me. Bright yellows and hints of soft oranges peered through it, as if looking at my face, mocking me and my pitiful state.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…"
I shook my head warily and looked below the window, away from the mocking bright orb. Below the window was a desk. My desk? I didn't know. It didn't look familiar. I wasn't exactly sure. I twisted my head slightly to the right. A bed, with dim grey sheets in a horrid disarray, as if someone had, quite literally, fallen and stumbled out of bed. Was it me? Again, the fact was unknown to me. Between the bed and the desk, a slim wooden cabinet held a collection of books inside, which was only seen because the door of said cabinet was wide open, untouched by the caretaker. Was I the caretaker? On top of the cabinet was a digital clock, reading a bright red 16:58(1).
As I placed my hands firmly on the floor in front of me, I slowly pushed myself onto my feet. My ankles snapped and popped at the sudden movement, suddenly being moved again. As I wobbled, my feet's clumsiness – my clumsiness – made me back up a few steps in want for balance, and made me bump into something solid. Something that couldn't have been there before, for I had just been lying on the ground, hacking my own breath out right there.
The solid object then spoke. "Itachi, you alright?"
I thought for a moment. 'Itachi. Itachi. That sounds…familiar.' I did not respond to the voice behind me.
Suddenly, a weight that was planted on my left shoulder made me jump. A startled grunt left my throat. The weight lifted slightly.
"Sorry, Itachi. Didn't mean to startle you," the voice apologized, sounding confused for a reason unbeknownst to me. "But, are you alright?"
I wondered. "Who…" I cleared my throat. "Who is…Itachi?"
Again, the weight lifted slightly. "You. Itachi, you're you. Really, are you feeling okay?"
'Me…?'
"Who are you?" I questioned. I avoided the question to me unintentionally.
There was a pause. The weight on my shoulder left completely, and I swore I could feel the left side of my body lurch up, as if I had been slouching to the one side. "…" Another pause. There was the thudding of slow footsteps behind me as the object (which I now expected to be human) turned and walked to what I guessed was a doorway. Then, the object's – human's – gruff and deep voice loudly began calling names. Names that were completely new to me.
"Kakuzu! Speed dial three!" he called first. A deep yet still slightly muffled response was given back. "Tobi, Deidara, bring Zetsu in." A very clear (and quite annoying) "Yes, Kisame-san! Tobi is a good boy!" and a whack followed by threatening grunts was heard, which then had an annoying wailing follow. "Sasori and Hidan, come up." There was no verbal response to that.
A pair of loud but not exactly heavy feet echoed off the walls, making the place sound empty. A pair of softer feet came behind the louder, slow and almost expressing the lack of concern.
I noticed I had not turned away from the window. The sun smiled at me tauntingly.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…"
As I turned, a loud thud echoed, with a string of curses following. A monotonous "Idiot" just barely echoed, and in return, I heard glass break and wood, most likely a small table, bang against the wall.
If there really was furniture…Then there was no way their echoes could be so clear. But…what was the other choice?
Without much hesitation (still, though, maybe a second or two interval), I tapped the man's shoulder, which I noticed was very broad.
Actually, now that I tapped his shoulder and he turned to me with a questioning noise, I noticed a lot of things about this guy. First of all, he was huge. Not only in height, whereas he must have been at least a half foot taller than me, but he was quite muscular, too. Second, his hair. His hair was a tie between a dark and light blue, but still not settling as just 'blue'. It spiked at the ends and very little of the cerulean locks intruded his face. That was the third thing. His face, though calm with a tinge of concern, was a pale, pale blue, along with the rest of his skin, and had marks along his upper-cheek bones that looked as if they were…gills? Really, if the guy didn't talk, I would have thought he was a shark.
He turned his head around slightly to face me. As I looked up at him, words caught in my throat. Suddenly, I couldn't remember what I was going to ask.
I could hear the sun laughing again. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…"
I turned around completely, to face the window. The desk. The cabinet. The bed. I placed my hands in front of my face, close. I twist them around slowly.
Who am I?
I suddenly got that stabbing, prickling fear. The one you get when you know you've done something terrible. The one you get when you're suddenly horribly lost, even though your guide was right there a moment ago.
That stabbing,prickling feeling.
My eyes darted to the window again, ripping away my hands away from sight. The sun was lurching lower and lower, and the sky began to turn into a mirage of colors. However, the sun bore into my eyes. Laughing at me. Taunting me.
"You're such a fool…Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…"
I suddenly lunged at the window, in desperation to get to the sun, attack it. The desk hit my thighs sharply, and any of its contents shook noticeably.
I stopped clawing at the window. And I looked down at the desk. I sucked in a deep breath. And let it go quickly.
I hadn't noticed the three staring figures behind me, standing slightly in the doorframe. My back to them, I must have only looked like a trembling drug addict or something. But, it wasn't the case. In all truth, I can't even remember if I did drugs at all.
I picked up the folded over brown leather in my two hands. Really, I didn't know why I was shaking so much. Maybe it was a craving for something…
I fought the urge to smack my own forehead. 'Idiot…Identity. Identity. That's what the hell I'm looking for.'
I opened the fold-over wallet and flipped through it. Top row, a few bucks in cash, with some receipts and change lying around it. Next few rows, library cards collecting up from obviously years before now, unless my handwriting is that spaced out and big and so childlike now. A few more cards, ranging from Membership Cards to coupons, and then, in the whole mess of it, there it is. A driver's license.
There might as well have been lights shimmering around it and a chorus of angels singing.
I quickly pulled it out and dropped the wallet back on the desk, which made a stack of papers crumple. I did not care right now about what those papers were, nor would I until I got this whole thing straightened out.
I held the card to my face and stared at the picture. My eyes narrowed. I was trying to reflect what I looked like in the photo.
My eyes were in a locked glare at the camera, though showed no hate through their red orbs. Rather, it looked like boredom. Or disinterest. Whatever it was, the glare was set on just getting out of there. My hair was pulled back neatly into a low ponytail, and two ebony fringes lined part of my face perfectly. There wasn't any frizz, no having to tuck any stray hair behind the ear, nothing.
Why am I paying so much attention to my hair.
I focused my attention on the left of the license. My name was the first thing I saw.
Itachi Uchiha.
I blinked. I was almost tempted to turn back around to the blue man. 'So my name is Itachi.'
Below it, my address. Below that, my town and country. Below that, gender (M) Next to that, hair color (BLK). Eye color (RED/BLK). I had no clue what that was supposed to mean. Black and red were colors not even close to each other. Below gender, my height (5-08). Below hair color, weight (124), and then next to that is my birth date. June 9th, 1970.
I put the card back down. I breathed in deeply and then looked out of the window. The sun was gone. The mirage of color was slowly being taken over by the pre-night dark blue sky.
"Ahh, fuck it! Itachi, what happened to you, damnit – DAMN IT KISAME!" I turned on my heel to look at the loudmouth behind me.
The 'loudmouth' was attacking the blue man, who I now assumed was this 'Kisame' person. The 'loudmouth' had slicked back silver hair (which looked like there was way too much hair gel in), pale purple wide eyes, and pale-ish skin.
He noticed me looking at him. "Tch. Fucking asshole," he muttered to Kisame. I raised my eyebrow.
Kisame disregarded the comment and looked over to me. "Itachi." His voice was soft, yet almost dead serious. I saw the redhead roll his eyes, as if saying "Get to the point."
As a matter of fact, he did. The red head looked at me with bored eyes. "Kisame, you can tell he's not remembering anything. And he obviously remembers zilch about his personality, running into a desk like he did. What, was he trying to attack the window?" It almost sounded as if he forgot I was there, listening to him.
'My personality…?' The driver's license showed nothing about my personality. No good piece of plastic crap…
The redhead continued. "At any rate, he's not going to remember anything, especially if he doesn't remember himself. So he doesn't remember why he's here, who we are, who is little brother is—"
"Sasuke." My voice carried to the three standing there. They stared at me incredulously. I would have stared at myself like that, too. The name felt sort of right in my mouth, but…it sounded foreign, still. 'Sasuke.' It seemed to be the only thing I remembered. "Sasuke," I repeated again.
"Okay, well Sherlock Shit remembers something…" the loudmouth interjected. I sent a small glare at him.
"Hidan, shut up for once, would you?" Kisame breathed pleadingly. 'Hidan' sent a side glare at him.
"Fuck off," Hidan told him. Kisame then sent a glare at him, but did not further the fight.
I stepped toward the three of them just as another pair of footsteps echoed off the walls.
'Echoes…That was my question.'
"Er, uh—" I stopped talking as all attention was sent to me again. "Do any of you hear…echoing?" I asked timidly, suddenly nervous for some reason. Hidan's eyes narrowed at me, probably confused at my nervousness which probably never showed up in the…previous me.
As the new person appeared behind the other three, Kisame and Sasori were also looking at me strangely.
I felt so small under their confused eyes. So weak and stupid. I just wished I could remember. Remember something other than the name Sasuke, who was apparently my younger brother. Something.
Kisame then started walking towards me. As soon as he took the last step toward me, I felt a small pang in my empty memory. Something that tried to force its way back up front so I could see. But, it stayed cluttered in the back, with the rest of my memories. Damn it.
Kisame then placed a hand on my forehead, his one eyebrow raised. I looked up, my eyes crossing slightly, to see a pale blue blur. I blinked once, twice. Then, it retreated. He put his fists on his waist and still looked at me with that raised brow. "Maybe if you rest. Then maybe you'll remember."
I gave him the incredulous look he gave me before. "Maybe when pigs fly."
Hidan snorted. "Damn, you act like a fucking kid, seriously." The man behind him smacked him in the back of the head. "What the fuck, Kakuzu?!"
"Don't be an idiot," the man, 'Kakuzu', scolded. Hidan gave a childish glare to him. Kakuzu stared back, boredom taking over the glaze in his neon green eyes.
I sighed tiredly. These people were very unreasonable.
KISAME POV
Itachi was lying down in his bed once again. I frowned. The whole thing about him not remembering anything worried me.
The only thing he could remember was Sasuke's name. Nothing – not even his own personality – had come back to him yet.
I sighed and placed my hands on my knees, standing up from the chair that was, for one reason or another, not with the desk. I placed it back at the desk, glanced one more time at the sleeping teen, and left the room, closing the door softly behind me.
As I walked down the steps, I tried to strain my hearing, so maybe, just maybe, I could convince myself that Itachi was not just hearing echoes. But, as hard as I strained and stepped on the stairs, there just wasn't a loud enough echo that could have reached him in that room.
I sighed again and joined the others in the living room and kitchen, which were connected to each other. Hidan sat lazily at the table, his chin rested in his folded arms with a beer bottle tapping against his lips as he thought. Deidara was trying in vain to shut the ever-spastic Tobi up just long enough so he could rid of the forming headache everyone was growing. Kakuzu leaned against the counter with folded arms, glaring at the two bickering.
"Shut up, un!" Deidara groaned for the umpteenth time. His glare was heavy and set on the orange mask.
"But-but-but – Tobi's a good boy!" Tobi wailed. As if it made a difference.
"No, Tobi's not!"
"Yes he is, Deidara-senpai! Tobi's a good boy!"
"No, he's not!"
"Is too!"
"Is not!"
"Yuh-huh! Right Zetsu-san? Tell Deidara-senpai Tobi's a good boy!"
"Don't bring me into this…" Zetsu's darker side growled. A white hand was placed on top of Tobi's head. "Tobi, calm down and shut your mouth. You're giving everyone a headache and Itachi's sleeping."
There seemed to be silence for a moment as this information sunk into Tobi's thick skull. "OH!" he suddenly screeched in realization. I covered my ears on instinct, blocking out the shrill noise. "Tobi gets it!" He was no quieter than before…
"Tobi, really, SHUT UP." Zetsu's white side winced at the harshness of his other. "Tobi, quiet down."
Tobi's shoulders hunched down slightly. "Ohh, sorry, Zetsu-san," he whispered. Zetsu nodded forgivingly.
I brought my hands back to my side as I stared at the crazy masked boy in wonder. Psycho. But, then again, it's just his ADHD catching up to him again. I'm betting on everything that he didn't take his medication.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Hidan take another swig of his beer and then let his head drop down into his arms once again. Kakuzu, who was Hidan's guardian give or take, sat down in the chair beside the tired-looking musician.
As I looked over to Sasori, I could faintly hear Hidan's tired and mildly drunk voice say something about God being not too proud of him lately or something of the sorts. As I turned to the redhead, I just wondered how many beers the religious man could have had already.
Sasori's painfully bored eyes did nothing but stare at the floor, his arms crossed loosely at his stomach. Deidara turned in his seat, which was in front of the redhead, and gave a warm smile to him. Sasori's eyes flickered up the Deidara's face, but he shook his head with a "Tch, brat" and continued examining the floor. Deidara held a childish pout for a split second before turning around, pulling on his fingerless gloves in sign of boredom, grunting some small notes to himself which I could not hear.
Suddenly, I saw Kakuzu stand, taking away Hidan's not-completely-empty bottle of beer and there was suddenly silence. Everyone's eyes were suddenly on Hidan. I peered over at the table as well.
Hidan glared over the table and at the back door. His two hands were balled up and then flexing again to release the tension.
Ball up, flex. Ball up, flex. Ball up—
"GOD (2) DAMNIT!" he yelled, his head flying up from his arms and pounding the table with his still balled up hands. Sasori then stood completely up, his eyes narrowed. Kakuzu narrowed his eyes as well, constraining the yelling man.
"Hidan, calm down. You're thinking too much again, moron," Kakuzu grumbled loudly. His tan hands were wrapped tightly around Hidan's pale wrists. Hidan growled loudly.
"Shut the fuck up, you stupid bastard! Descendez-moi, bon sang vous!"
"Contrôle votre français, stupide." Ah, the start of the usual bilingual fight has erupted.
"Sérieusement, aller loin!" Hidan cried in a pleading voice, trying to rip his wrists away from Kakuzu's still tight grasp.
Lord knows what they were saying. I spoke Polish and English only, thank you.
"You didn't take your AZT…," Kakuzu pointed out in a matter-of-factly way.
Ah, now that I understood.
And, to that, Hidan froze very noticeably.
"S-Shut up…" he stuttered, pale violet eyes opened up wide.
I turned away from Hidan's pitiful state. I knew, I cared, but I still didn't want to see.
Sasori had gone back to leaning against the counter with his head down and arms folded. His maroon hair messily intruded his forehead and the sides of his face, just slightly blocking his sight. I wondered.
I wondered. If just maybe, that sight of his own red hair made him think…
I shook my head. "Cholera. I shouldn't even think about that…" I muttered quietly to myself.
ITACHI POV
I strained my brain to exhaustion to try to remember something. Anything! The blankness was frightening and just nerve-wracking.
Now my head was pounding and throbbing. Wonderful.
I swung my feet over the side of the bed and stood, drowsily lifting a hand to rub my eyes. I wondered what was happening downstairs.
Possibly another fight between the two idiot zombie twins?
Who knows.
I stopped dead in my tracks, halfway out of the doorway.
Holy mother of God. I remembered something.
"Oh my God."
I ran down the steps, my feet flying over every other step and found myself turning into a kitchen. Kisame's pale blue face looked at me from over his shoulder with a questioning gaze.
My eyes, I felt, were almost falling out of their sockets. "Hidan and Kakuzu. They're fighting again, aren't they? I heard them speaking some…weird stuff…" I could sense my eyelids falling over my eyes and my hand fly in slow motion to my throbbing head. Kisame turned around and grabbed my shoulders, almost in frame-by-frame action.
His mouth moved, but he said nothing. No sound came out.
Then there was darkness once again as my eyes fell over.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…"
I sat up in bed quickly. I blinked at brought a hand up to feel my head. There wasn't any pounding or pain. I swung my feet over the side of the bed.
Whoa. Déjà vu.
Instead of running down the steps, I walked slowly, trying to think straight. Did I pass out before? Or was it all just a dream?
Please don't let it just be a dream. Please.
As I reached the bottom of the stairway, I heard some sort of argument in…French? A French argument to my right. I turned right.
I found myself in a kitchen, with Kisame leaning against a counter with his back to me. I sucked in a breath and slowly let it go. Sasori turned his head to me, noticing my presence.
"Itachi's up," he said plainly over the noise. The argument stopped. All eyes turned to me.
I blinked.
"Uh, er…" I stuttered. Kisame turned his head to look at me. "Was I…down here before?" I asked, feeling small again. Kisame's eyebrow rose.
"Uh, no…?" he answered, confusion taking over. An orange masked boy looked over at me, along with a blond girl and a…a…plant-man?
"Oh, um, okay…" Damn it all.
I walked in further to the kitchen and heard soft murmurings of "Stupide" and "Idiot" and looked to my left. I opened my mouth with a wide, excited smile to say that I remembered who they were.
But nothing came up.
I drew a pitiful blank. Just cobwebs and darkness in the back of my mind where my memory was supposed to be.
My mouth closed again in a tight, thin line. My eyes narrowed in annoyance.
Kakuzu watched my expression change so quickly. "So that was the other side of Itachi Uchiha. Never would have guessed."
My own name sounded odd to me, still.
I nervously tugged on a fringe of black hair. "No, it was nothing," I denied. 'I just thought I remembered who you were, though...' I sighed shallowly and turned to the five behind me.
As I looked at everyone's faces – although, one was wearing a weird orange mask – I faintly saw a flicker of lament cross Kisame's eyes.
'He wanted me to wake up and remember. He said that to me before everyone left the room. And I told him there was a fat chance. I probably just cursed myself. Damn jinxing skills.'
I frowned slightly, feeling guilty. The blonde haired girl looked over at me, as if checking me over for anything suspicious.
"Itachi, you really are screwed up, un," she – he? That was a deep voice for a girl… – commented with a half smile. Sasori nudged her (him?).
"Deidara," he scolded lightly.
"Whaaat, un?" Deidara asked innocently, a Cheshire cat-like smile spread across her (his…) face. Sasori shook his head.
"Brat." Deidara's grin dropped.
"Am not."
"Yes, you are."
Deidara puffed his lower lip out slightly and turned away from Sasori, slouching in his chair with his arms crossed high on his chest. Sasori rolled his eyes at the childish sight.
Hidan stood quickly at the beeping sound near his waist. "Son of a bitch…" he muttered.
"Uh!" Kisame interjected loudly. I turned to him questionably. His eyes flashed to me and he held a nervous grin. "Well, uh, Itachi! How about…uh…" His face scrunched up slightly in thought. I raised my eyebrow at him. "Uh, maybe if you walk around a little bit! Maybe your memory will come back…?" He held his tense smile for a short while.
I thought for a moment. 'What's wrong with him…?'
However, I nodded. "Maybe."
Kisame let out a breath that he seemed to have been holding.
As I slipped on a light jacket that Kisame handed to me, I heard a soft mutter that I couldn't understand.
"Zamknij zaproszenia…"
I turned my head to Kisame, who was the only one behind me. "Hm?" I questioned.
His gazed snapped up to meet mine's. "Oh! Ah, it's nothing," he answered with a nervous chuckle.
I turned away from him again and closed my hand around the doorknob. At least the sun wasn't out.
End of Chapter 1 : Please Be A Dream
(1) 16:58 – 4:58PM
(2) Hidan's Christian. No Jashinism here. :D
"Descendez-moi, bon sang vous!" – Get off me, damn you! (French)
"Contrôle votre français, stupide." – Control your French, stupid. (French)
"Sérieusement, aller loin!" – Seriously, go away! (French)
"Cholera." – Damn. (Polish)
"Zamknij zaproszenia…" – Close call… (Polish)
A/N : Ah! So, what did you think? :D I know, this is the second time I've edited it a little, so what? Please R&R! Read and review~ You will make a very happy Abby :D