I know. You all hate me - I've finished hardly any of my fanfictions, and I'm starting another one. Bare with me here, because The Choices We Make is almost done, and Amongst Hell Are Angels is steadily moving along. For others ones like Incubus, you'll have to be patient, because those are no where near progress. I've had super writer's block for ages, and I'm trying to get going again - I want to start on some Yaoi, because I've taken a really big liking to it. I don't know why, but it's almost scary.

Anyway, I know most people don't care about original characters, but I'm giving this a shot. The OC's name is actually the name of one of my characters in something else entirely. So, if I happen to actually finish my to-be novel and you see a book published the main character's name in there as the main character, then you know I've been successful, haha. But we all know I'm a long way away from that. But, I'm going to be taking AP English next year, so I'm getting better! Anyway, read on my faithful reviewers. I hope you enjoy.

The first day of school was always the worst.

It was an observation Sasuke had made long ago, and that opinion had never changed—even now as he began his senior year of high school with the people he had known nearly all his life. All of his classmates insisted on hugging him and squealing in delight, and he could have sworn that one girl nearly burst into tears at the sight of him. So, no matter how many times the relief of school came—of having the eight excusable hours away from home five days a week—the horror of "catching up" with his "friends" didn't exactly leave things on a good note.

What was almost amusing was the fact that nobody seemed to get the fact that he didn't want to be there. He had given up on refusing and rejecting long ago and had just endured it all since fifth grade. Most girls let it go for a while until they built up the insane confidence to advance on him again, but it was always worse on the first day of school—the day everyone wanted a chance.

Apparently, not being victims of his cold glare and harsh put-downs for three months made them think he had miraculously changed, or maybe that they had changed enough to the point where they were somewhat attractive. Sasuke was waiting for that day to come, but he doubted there ever would be a girl to catch his interest.

Given any chance, his brother would respond by suggesting that Sasuke was probably gay and didn't like girls in general, occasionally in the presence of his parents. Only Itachi could humiliate him in any way—why Sasuke put up with it, he hadn't a clue.

As rare as it was though, Itachi was wrong for once, and of this Sasuke was absolutely one hundred percent certain. The fact that all—actually, the majority of—his admirers were girls wasn't the problem; it was the traits and similarities they all possessed that turned him off.

For one, nearly every single girl that went to that disgusting private school was a bitch, a snob, and/or a slut. So, that eliminated most of the student body, whether the candidate for his affection was female or male. Secondly, many of the young women interested in him were people he had known for years, and just the thought of dating any one of them was utterly repulsive—having stayed silent as he watched his classmates, he had learned some things better left unspoken of.

The biggest thing he didn't like about most girls was that they were too weak to handle the type of relationship he preferred. Whether the limitations were physical, mental, or emotional, he just hadn't found anyone up to the challenge; no one to fit the requirements needed in order to break down the barriers around his heart.

Plus, everybody thought that they knew him, or understood, or thought that they were just like him. It was the very thing that irked Sasuke, and the first person to say something even remotely similar to that just very well got sent to the nurse's office, and he to detention. The reminder of what would await at home allowed him to calm his nerves as a talkative blonde rambled on about how excited she was to see him again, how much she had missed him, how great it was they had a class together, and things of that nature. Actually, it was amazing that she had managed to get into some of the classes he was taking—the girl wasn't too bright as he recalled

So "girls" weren't the problem, though he wasn't at all sickened at the idea of dating a guy, so he supposed Itachi was right in some way. While the male population had the tendency to have the ability to endure more than women and were more tolerable with the sanity they could grasp for more than a lucky ten minutes a day, they lacked a certain masculinity that made them just as bad as the opposite sex—or at least the gay ones at his school, as few as they were. Since he had never dated, never considered dating, and had never wanted to date, Sasuke didn't bother with figuring out exactly what his orientation was; he simply didn't care enough for it to matter.

That was until his calculus teacher entered the room ten minutes late.

No, it wasn't the laid-back silver-haired man that caught his eye, but rather the younger man at his side. Sasuke watched eyes as black as his own scan the room repeatedly, the emotionless gaze never lingering on one spot for more than two seconds. It wasn't clear whether the kid was analyzing the room or just paranoid, but the thing that clicked was that Sasuke had never seen him before, not in his entire life.

Not many kids were accepted into Konoha since hardly any could meet its standards—whether the limitations were set academically, athletically or financially. As far as Sasuke was concerned, there hadn't been a "new kid" at Konoha High School in at least six years—by now, everyone knew everyone, and the boy before them was an outsider.

"Good morning, and it's nice to meet you everyone," the teacher said cheerfully in a tone that was surprisingly not annoying. A long-fingered hand motioned for students to sit, and everyone did, speechless as they stared wide-eyed at this unfamiliar face. "I'm aware that this is probably a big surprise to everyone, but we have a new student that will be attending here at Konoha."

Sasuke watched as the boy settled on staring blankly at the back wall of the classroom, expression betraying nothing—it wasn't curious, nervous, scared, excited, or even bored for that matter. The only thing remotely humane he portrayed in his facial features and posture was a lack of interest in his surroundings.

"We're all friendly here," the Calculus teacher went on, smiling—even the teachers knew the students well. Introductions were hardly necessary, and by senior year, not at all bothered with by teachers, whose biggest priority was to prepare them for graduation and afterwards. "I'm sure you'll all accept him with open arms, but I'll remind a few of you unnamed ones to play nice. Does anyone have any questions?"

Sasuke watched as a few hands hesitantly rose in the air, and the teacher picked one that belonged to a familiar pink-haired girl that wasn't as irritating, but just as persistent as the others.

"Um," she spoke slowly, as if the question was obvious by the way she squinted her eyes at both the teacher and new student—Sasuke felt it coming and almost sighed when he was right. "What's your name?"

"Oh, of course," the teacher said, smiling and gesturing to the boy beside him, avoiding any physical contact, Sasuke noticed. "This would be Damien Krylancelo, everyone."

Damien Krylancelo.

Sasuke had to admit it had a nice ring to it, and though it was merely a name, something about it simply fit the boy before him. Unusual or not, Sasuke could tell that this curious stranger was unique, and something about him was so fascinating, it struck a cord inside him that he'd never before heard.

Another hand rose, and the teacher nodded to the spiky blonde boy, bright azure orbs glistening with excitement—a troublemaker to say in the least, somebody who insisted he was Sasuke's rival.

"Are you emo?" the blonde asked, raising an eyebrow as an obnoxious expression overcame his features—the question rose laughter, though the teacher's scolding gaze quieted it soon after. "I mean, not to be rude or anything, but you're kind of asking for it. Your hair, clothes… Dude, do you even talk?"

The tension peeked, and with a tiny twitch of his head behind his locked fingers, Sasuke watched as a flash of something different passed in those onyx eyes. It was almost a glare, but it was gone too quickly for Sasuke to confirm the brief look of anger, of irritation or frustration—something he wasn't able to define or place. His teacher paused, biting his lip softly, and then sighed and shook his head slowly as if he were unsure of himself. Then it came and hit them all like a ton of bricks.

"Damien is mute."

No one in the class seemed to have anything to say, and the boy—Damien—met each of their gazes so blankly, so emotionlessly, Sasuke had to wonder if it outdid his own stoic expression. It was a wonder, really, that a student would be accepted with a physical handicap or disability; Konoha High was a school that based everything on its reputation, and didn't waste its time on things that required extra effort unless it was well funded for. The question crossed his mind vaguely—how in the world had this kid got in? There were only three ways: with high test scores and good grades, with an ability to play sports with an above average potential, or with money from parents who insisted their child attend.

Sasuke himself fit into two categories actually, and while he didn't like the idea of being on a team or projecting his skills in front of other people, he was sure he'd be able to fit into the third if he wanted to—sports weren't his thing. Unfortunately, the money-thing was due to his family's background, and he had the top scores in the entire school and presumably state according to something his teacher had said last year.

Of course, this only ended up giving him more unwanted attention from classmates and teachers.

It was then that he noticed the twinkling expression in the girls' eyes, a look of admiration and awe—it was the same way they gazed upon Sasuke. Damien seemed unfazed by it; maybe he was just as used to it as Sasuke was, but whatever the reason, his cold gaze made each of them turn away. Sasuke felt himself smirk, something he rarely did: a display of what he was feeling inside, and at this moment it was amusement.

That's when he looked at him.

Sasuke blinked, expression unchanging as Damien turned his eyes to him so suddenly, it was almost as if he had done something wrong—but Sasuke could see the blankness in his eyes, the way it showed he didn't care. They were empty, or maybe too full he just couldn't tell anymore what he was thinking, feeling…and so Sasuke did the only thing he could do, something he then decided he didn't mind doing. He stared back.

The teacher was talking again, and though Sasuke automatically let himself listen, his thoughts remained on the boy before him. He started taking things in as the teacher's words came to him, telling him things about the boy as he looked upon him himself.

"Damien has moved here from Italy if anybody was wondering. I would appreciate it if some of you would form a type of communication with Damien; I think it'll be a good experience for all of you."

His hair was like Sasuke's brother's—jet-black and straight—but it was much shorter, thick around his entire head. Though the dark locks didn't exactly reach his shoulder, it was still relatively "long" considering Sasuke could hardly see anything except the right side of his face.

"He's rather shy, and it may take some time to get used to him, but I'm sure he'll fit right in if you give him the chance to."

High cheekbones, sharp features, and eyes that looked deadly without emotion made chills threaten to creep up his spine. There was something intimidating about him, but it only made him seem more interesting in his own way. His body was actually quite small, lean and fit with a stance that radiated confidence and power. Sasuke could imagine muscle beneath the smooth, flawless pale skin that was so white, it seemed to glow.

"So, Damien, if you could take a seat wherever you wish, I think we'll be able to get the lesson started, don't you?"

Sasuke watched as he moved, a single upward glance at the teacher out of the corner of his eye, and then he walked with graceful, long strides that made it seem like he was floating. The dark fabric of his jeans and hoody contrasted against his skin so bluntly it made his features seem almost angelic. With each step, hair shifted over his face, swaying around his head as if to show how soft it really looked.

Sasuke was stunned to discover how perfect this being really was.

And was even more shocked when Damien took the empty seat next to his.

The oddity itself was that a seat near him was actually free—there had been times when full-out fights had been started over whom would sit by him. Now, though, it seemed that he had succeeded in driving away the admirers, as Damien was now sitting beside him, the bag Sasuke hadn't noticed before shifting off his shoulder and falling down to the floor with a quiet thud.

The class continued, but the presence of Damien beside him kept bugging him throughout the entire hour. Though the attention of most of his classmates remained on both him and the person next to him, Sasuke couldn't focus on anything but the boy near him. It almost scared him, but he pushed the unfamiliar fear into the "curious territory" and left it alone…or tried to.

But as the class ended, and Sasuke stood, his gaze met Damien's once more. It was then that Sasuke knew that he wouldn't be able to just ignore this new student; it wasn't within his ability.

And that was enough to piss him off.

It turned out that Damien was in every one of his classes so far, and it was the same for each one. Not only in calculus, but also in history and English, the seat beside him always seemed to be occupied by the same image of white and black. He hadn't said a word to the kid, since Sasuke figured it'd be fairly pointless to start a conversation with anyone, let alone someone who was incapable of holding one.

So, by lunch, Sasuke was quite angry.

The fact that some random stranger could have such a powerful effect on him only made him more irritated. He didn't show it of course—his classmates weren't worth the humility he'd have to sacrifice to show him his vulnerability—but his self-control was slipping steadily, especially when, as soon as he sat down at a vacant table, the seat across from him slid out.

Eyes filled with annoyance—the same ones he used to disperse fan-girls—glared up at Damien, but the boy seemed either oblivious or immune to the stare that had most people crawling into a corner. Not allowing the sigh building inside his throat to come forth, Sasuke proceeded to ignore him and turned his attention to the food, which of course held little of his advertence anyway.

Five minutes later, he couldn't stand it—he was like a fucking shadow, and though Damien hadn't done anything, his inconsistent stare, on and off, was bugging the shit out of Sasuke. Inhaling silently, he closed his eyes, feeling the inhuman stare on him for the fiftieth time during lunch. He counted to ten before turning to Damien and lifting his eyelids slowly, summoning every bit of intimidation from his core and focusing it on the gaze he met Damien's with.

It was completely blank.

Though he managed to glower at him, he felt the strangest, most unexplainable urge to apologize for overreacting, for treating him with disdain, for being the asshole he was. None of the thoughts running through his mind made sense—the only thing he could make out through the muddles of idiocy that had invaded his brain were those torturously beautiful black eyes. Beautiful? Yes, there was definitely something wrong with him.

Was it a type of hypnotism or some freaky voodoo shit? Sasuke highly doubted that, and a part of him was skeptical to believe Damien even knew what he was doing, how he was making Sasuke feel. Hell, the fact that he could make Sasuke feel anything was a miracle in itself, and as much as Sasuke hated it, he had to give the kid some credit.

Whether it was impressive or not, though, it had to stop. Now.

"Do you want something?" he hissed, pushing his tray away and crossing his arms over the table. He leaned over them, as if he were pondering just how to make Damien go away, hardly a bit of effort put into being as frightening as humanly possible.

But it didn't work—Damien only tilted his head to the side, hair shifting to fall over his face, further blocking it from view. A part of Sasuke screamed when it did that, but he merely blamed it on instinctive teenage hormones and attempted to push the thought away. Sure, he was attractive, but anyone would think that the moment they took a look at him…though it was odd his features would have any effect on Sasuke. He was the cold, heartless being of Konoha High, the "human ice cube" as the dense, spiky blonde from before had once called him. Why would he even notice something as simple as how curious, how innocent Damien's expression was, or how he wanted so badly to move all of that silky hair away from the picture-perfect features of his face.

Baring his teeth, he took in a deep breath, and mentally noted how noticeable his frustration probably was now. How long would he be able to keep his cool around this random freak who had decided to just follow him around everywhere? Or was this a joke, something the male student body had come up with to finally get under his skin, something those incompetent morons had never been able to do.

"Look," he murmured, wishing hopelessly that no one saw him actually talking to this new kid. He was sure that some of the angry, envy-consumed girls had noticed how much time Damien was "spending" with him, and the fact that he was actually speaking first was more than he had done to more than half of female population at Konoha. "I know you're mute and all, but no one said anything about you being deaf or illiterate. So, you either tell me what the hell your problem is, or you get the fuck away from me, because I really don't need you tagging along beside me. Got it?"

Apparently, he did, even though he didn't comply and leave the table.

He didn't write something down for Sasuke to read.

No, he did something that stunned Sasuke to the point of speechlessness, and while he wasn't much of a talker, Uchiha's could at least think of something mentionable. But when Damien merely blinked once, and then slowly straightened himself, hair falling back into place flawlessly…

He smiled.

It was the most unearthly thing he had ever seen in his life, and when those lips upturned in the slightest way, it wasn't fake or mocking—it was purely…sweet. Sasuke kept himself from gaping, but he couldn't keep the small part of his lips, and though his mind registered the unfamiliar way his eyes widened by a centimeter, losing the hateful glare they always possessed…he couldn't do anything about it.

For the first time, he couldn't do a single thing to defend the way he actually felt—he was dumb struck, unable to snap or growl at this person he didn't even know. Without a single word, Damien had struck down the first of his barriers in three hours. And then Sasuke realized that he was staring straight at him, unmoving and completely unguarded—the smile on Damien's face too captivating, too…too…beautiful.

Scowling, he turned away, pushing away from the table with a loud screech as his chair slid across the floor roughly. Turning all of his attention away from his surroundings, he completely ignored the silence that dropped onto the cafeteria, the curious wide-eyed stares, and left the room. It was the first time he had done anything at all that would draw attention to himself, except actually walking into the room.

But that creepy little bastard had managed to crack his armor, get a rise out of him that nobody else had proved capable of doing until now. Why was this kid different than all the others who strived for his affection, the attention that was undivided for no one? He hadn't even known him for a day, and he hadn't even said a word, and yet…

Was it just the way he looked, so…Sasuke shuddered when the word entered his mind: seducible. How he had sat there with that model's face and that naïve, untainted smile, so angelic and… Sasuke snarled, body twitching to slam his fist into the nearest wall. What the hell was wrong with him?

"So, how was everyone's day?" his mother asked nonchalantly.

They sat around the rectangular, mahogany table in their dining room, the crystal of the lit chandelier above them throwing colors onto the ceiling and upper sections of the walls. Below, however, the view was not nearly as enticing, as his father's stern gaze fell upon his sons from the head of the table.

It took everything Sasuke had to keep from shifting uncomfortably under Fugaku's almost-glare. When it came to school, his classmates, an idiot looking for money out on the street, Sasuke could take care of himself no problem. But where his father was involved, there wasn't a thing he could do without feeling stupid or not good enough, like a child searching for the love he'd never receive—because that's exactly what he was to Fugaku.

"Itachi?" the menacing voice of his father filled the air like sand, suffocating Sasuke with body its tone and its words—Itachi.

"Hm?" Sasuke felt a spark of awe flood through him, washing away his uncertainties as his brother looked up with that beautiful, slightly—and falsely—surprised, caught-off-guard expression, as if he hadn't heard or word, as if he hadn't been paying attention. Then he acted as if he just then understood, showing his parents that the matter was of no importance to him, saying, "Oh," and then shrugging as he turned back to his food and continued, "My day was quite uneventful." It was then that his amazing big brother would look to his left, directly at him with one of those rare, reserved smiles and ask, "What about you, Sasuke?"

Sasuke couldn't help the smile that breeched his lips as he glanced up at his silent mother, his irritated father…and his expectant big brother. Though he always came in second place to Itachi in Fugaku's eyes, his brother always seemed to make an extra effort to make a little more room for Sasuke in their family, no matter what. There wasn't a time when Itachi had let him down like that, ignored him in front of his parents. Never. He always made up for their negligence.

"Not much happened," he muttered, and then shrugged as his brother had—he saw the corner of Itachi's lip twitch, threatening to smirk. Sasuke was about to smile, too, when something crossed his mind that mad his lips turn down. Brow furrowing, he stared at his food as he continued, "Except we got a new student in the senior class today."

There was an odd pause in the air, and Sasuke was surprised to discover that Fugaku had actually been listening—when he looked up, coal black eyes were on him curiously, and he flushed under the stare, mentally scolding himself for acting like such a child just because his father had looked at him. Fugaku then raised both eyebrows briefly in a way to show that he was also taken aback by the news, turning his gaze to the food before him.

"That certainly is something," he said, and then shook his head as if remembering something. "I think that school has had maybe six new students to come there in nearly two decades."

"Konoha certainly does set its standards," Mikoto commented, nodding with a small smile. "You boys are lucky you were able to attend."

"Just born in the right place at the right time," Itachi murmured softly, and though the tension that seeped into Fugaku's body told everyone that he disapproved of Itachi's reasoning, their father did and said nothing. Itachi then glanced at Sasuke out of the corner of his eye with a tiny, understanding smirk and asked, "What classes are you taking this year?"

"Um," he began, but was cut off by Fugaku's sharp gaze.

"You shouldn't stutter," he snapped, and Sasuke merely looked away, back at his food—he was definitely used to this. "If you hesitate, you'll sound unsure of yourself. Always speak with confidence, Sasuke."

"Yes, sir," he muttered, swallowing the lump that was building in his throat, blinking the burning sensation away from the eyes that were threatening to water. He then diverted his attention to his food, pushing a piece of broccoli around his plate absentmindedly.

"Don't play with your food," Fugaku added, glaring at him through ebony bangs. Sasuke froze, jaw clenching as he stared at the half-empty plate in front of him. "You shouldn't act so childish."

"Fugaku…" his mother breathed, a tone that wasn't at all threatening—Mikoto didn't have the ability to sound intimidating half the time. That, however, was exactly what made Fugaku drop the common subject of "Sasuke's an idiot" for the night.

A moment passed before Sasuke took in a deep breath, not raising his gaze as he asked, "May I be excused?"

"You're not hungry?" Mikoto asked, glancing at her son with a familiar look of worry and concern. Sasuke gave what probably wasn't a very reassuring smile and shook his head.

"Not really," he said, and he prided in himself when his voice didn't crack, when he didn't choke.

"If you insist on being such an ungrateful son, then go," Fugaku muttered, and though it was a somewhat fair answer to his question, it came out more as a command than anything else.

Biting back every smartass comment he could have snapped back at his father—every single thing Itachi could've have said without a single form of punishment—Sasuke gently moved away from the table, picked the plate off the table, and walked silently into the kitchen. He shoved what was left of his dinner into a plastic container and put it in the refrigerator, rinsing off his plate before setting it next to the sink where his mother would wash it properly later that night. Then he moved back through the dining room, past the table where three perfect beings sat like a perfect family, content with him not being there.

It made things a little better when he caught a glimpse of Itachi watching him curiously out of the corner of his eye in the reflection of the antique mirror hanging on the wall. Forcing himself to remain quiet, he left them and moved upstairs without a word to reside in the sanctuary of his room.

It didn't take very long for the knock to come, though it had seemed like eternity since Sasuke had known it was coming—since he had been eagerly awaiting it ever since he had stepped into his room. Pressing 'pause' on his iPod, he settled his gaze on the ceiling above his comfortable position on his bed and spoke as clearly as he could, "Come in."

There wasn't a single ungraceful hesitation or pause as his elder brother calmly opened the door to his room and walked inside, closing the door behind him. Sparing Sasuke any words for now, Itachi came to stand beside Sasuke's bed, setting a plate on the bedside table and taking a seat beside his brother. Sasuke let his head fall to the side so he could look at Itachi straight in the eye, not a sideways glance or anything else that would deny Itachi the respect he deserved. Plus, Sasuke couldn't help but revel in the attention Itachi always gave him, the looks of what had to be love, what his father never had time to surrender to him.

"You really should eat," his brother finally said, and Sasuke couldn't help but wonder at how much more thoughtful the simple comment was than what his father had said, how much of a difference it really made. "It's not healthy to ignore your diet."

"So what?" he scoffed, not able to retain his anger now that his father wasn't with them—Itachi did nothing when Sasuke looked away. He did, however, make a move when Sasuke muttered dryly, "Like anyone would care if I starved anyway."

It was a second later, and Sasuke was pinned to the bed, the weight of Itachi's body pressed down onto his chest. Grunting at the sudden pressure pushing down on him, Sasuke stared up into furious, scarlet eyes. He felt himself grow warm under his brother's gaze, at how close they were, and how intimately Itachi had thrown himself against his brother—even if his lungs were slowly beginning to ache.

"You contradict yourself, little brother," Itachi hissed, and Sasuke shuddered involuntarily beneath him, eyes closing at the angry tone of his brother's voice—since when did Itachi get mad? "Either make up your mind or open your eyes."

He knew that Itachi was speaking in figurative terms, but Sasuke cracked his eyes open as silent surrender, staring up at him quietly. Only Itachi's eyes, the unnaturally fiery depths that captured Sasuke's attention so many times, could betray his mysterious older brother at times, and even then he was unreadable. There were only occasions when Sasuke was able to summon an anger in Itachi, and it made his heart swell in his chest as he was reminded what had gotten Itachi to act so humanly.

"You lie, and you know it," Itachi growled, and Sasuke sucked in a deep breath, only to find that it didn't fill his lungs like it should have. Gasping, and then choking on the empty air around him, he let out a pathetic whimper, twitching under the weight of his brother, the one denying him oxygen. "Speak as lightly as you just did again, and you won't receive as much mercy. Unless you want to prove our father to be correct on your lack of thankfulness, then I suggest you watch your tongue." Itachi moved an inch closer as he added, "Understand?"

"Y-yes," Sasuke coughed, nodding weakly. He forced himself to grasp the air and turn it into words, attempting to stare at his brother through watering eyes. "I u-understand."

And then the weight was gone, and Sasuke sucked in a breath harshly, eyes flickering closed. It took all his strength to keep from hacking, but he focused most of it on observing his surroundings without his eyes—he felt relief fill him to the brim when the mattress didn't shift beneath him, when Itachi didn't leave him.

"You should eat, little brother," Itachi whispered, and Sasuke opened his eyes to see the same, blank look Sasuke carried every day on his brother's face. He smiled softly and complied, nodding and sitting up, taking the plate without a single hesitation and digging into it, glancing at his brother expectantly.

He was thrilled to find a small smile on his features, eyes on him once again—Sasuke felt as if he were glowing. Then Itachi crossed his legs and placed his hands delicately in his lap, looking at Sasuke with a loving, brotherly expression.

"You never answered my question," he reminded him, and when Sasuke tilted his head, mouth too full to talk, Itachi tacked on, "About your classes."

"Oh," he muttered, and then felt himself turn the brightest shade of red when some of the food that had been in his mouth fell out, back onto the plate. His brother had the decency to ignore it, only allowing his emotionless mask to lessen as his smile grew and his eyes grew warm. "Uh, well… I'm taking English, calculus, history…um…biology and French. And then there's gym, of course."

"Who are your teachers?" Itachi asked, and though Sasuke had no idea why Itachi would have any care in the world who his teachers were, he glanced back down at his food, trying to remember names—he had never been good at that.

"Um…there's Hatake…Yuhi, Guy…um, Yakushi, Uzuki, and…Sarutobi," Sasuke recited, blinking and glancing at Itachi.

"I had Hatake when I was in high school," Itachi told him, giving him a reassuring smile as he said, "He's a good teacher, so you should like his class. I didn't have any of the others, though I heard when I was younger that Sarutobi and Yuhi are good."

"Yeah, I guess they're not that bad," Sasuke muttered quickly to himself, and then frowned. "Itachi, has somebody ever affected you in a way you can't explain…that's different from the way you feel about everyone else?"

"Is this about the new guy at your school?" Itachi asked curiously.

"Maybe," he breathed lightly, waiting for Itachi to joke about it.

"Well, to answer your question, no," he admitted, and then shrugged, ruffling Sasuke's raven-colored hair with a small smile. "But maybe that just proves how much luckier you are, little brother. Just go with whatever you feel is right, okay? Go ahead and eat. I'm guessing you'll have a big day tomorrow."

Okay, so I want to point out a couple of things down here.

One, I'm trying to portray a certain type of character in each of the people in this story. Obviously, the Uchiha family is a main focal point. Sasuke is the moody teenager who wants to simply be left alone, but finds his new feelings aren't so bad as they might have been. Itachi is the loving older brother who always encourages and supports his young siblings despite his occasional teasing. Fugaku is the verbally abusive father who takes reputation to be more important than the family's actual emotional well-being. Mikoto is the mother who has to put up with everything quietly yet firmly, loving both her boys and her husband equally.

Damien is the one you guys are going to have to get used to. I love that name: Damien Krylancelo. I had to use it here, but this person's character is a lot different than the original Damien in my other thing. So, he's pretty much a mystery at this point, but he's enough of a distraction so that Sasuke deliberately acknowledges him.

If you review, than I will continue this story. Each chapter will be around 5,000 words (about 11-13 pages) so it's evenly balanced in the text. Things will be moving kind of quickly, because I want to finish this story and move on to the ones I haven't finished, plus an Itachi and Sasuke chapter fanfiction I'm doing that I think a lot of people will really enjoy. Anyway, review please.

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