Let me paint the picture: There are brightly colored balloons all over the house. On the dining table is a chocolate cake with 16 candles on it, right beside a pot of steaming ramen and a gallon of ice cream. Around the table are my family and friends, clapping their hands as they sing for me… Great, wasn't it?

Waterfalls cascade down my cheeks. That was the last birthday I spent with my dad… in HD.

As I replay his final memories, I sit in our living room with Sakura-chan right next to me and with teme on the other couch. I know this isn't the best thing to do on the day of his death anniversary, but I couldn't help it, I need to see him so badly!

"Stop crying. You look like an idiot, idiot."

I wipe the snot trickling down my upper lip then glare at the teme. "Easy for you to say, both of your parents are still with you! You totally have no experience about what it's like to lose a father!"

"Drama queen." He mutters, not bothering to look up from the magazine he's been reading.

"Sasuke-kun, you're not helping." Sakura-chan smacks his arm.

That got his attention alright. His eyes rip off the paper and stab Sakura-chan. Kudos to teme for keeping a straight face. I can perfectly imagine how that smack could hurt… Youch! She may not look like it, but Sakura-chan can hit as hard as the incredible Hulk.

"I didn't do anything." Teme dares to grumble. "Reminiscing about the past is bound to make you feel worse."

She scoffed. "Says the expert."

"I don't cry myself out until I look like shit."

Sakura-chan steals a glance at me, and then her shoulders slump. "Well, at least go easy on him… You know uncle Minato just passed away last year. You can't really blame Naruto for acting this way."

On cue, flashes of my dad's dazzling smile, to-die-for handsome face, and gorgeous blonde hair – I got them all, by the way – play before my very own eyes. I swear these tears have a freakin' mind of their own, 'cause they just overflow and wet my cheeks without permission!

An ear-splitting bawl disturbs the entire house. It took me a moment to realize the noise is comin' out of my mouth. Good thing mom's at work, or else she'd freak again and grab the fire extinguisher – mind you, the fourth one she's bought this week.

"Jesus. Did I say go easy on him? I take it back." Sakura-chan grabs the remote control and crushes the red button under her thumb.

The DVD stops. The TV turns to black, and my dad's image disappears before us.

"Sakura-chan! Why'd you do that?" That's me talking. Civilly.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Sasuke-kun, Naruto. You can't keep grieving like this. You have to move on and accept what happened to your dad. If you break down everytime you see his face, watching his videos all day won't help you recover."

I sniff and rub my cheeks dry with my jacket's sleeve. "You don't understand… I've been with my dad since I was a child… you know, before life removed all the innocence? Back then, my father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me, and then spin me around 'till I fell asleep. Then up the stairs–"

"Yeah, yeah, we know the rest." Sakura-chan pictures a rainbow above her head.

Trivia: She does that often. How do I know? You see… her eyes tend to roll up as if tracing some kind of imaginary arc. If we try to apply some serious mathematical calculations here, we'll get that arc equals rainbow. Get it? Aren't I a genius or what?

I sniff again. "Then… you get where I'm rooting from, right? I just really miss my dad is all. I don't think I'm ready to let him go. I mean, he just left so suddenly, I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. I really wish there's a way I can talk… to-him… a-gain…" The light bulb in my head flickers. "I have an idea!"

Teme flips a page. "That's a first."

I ignore him, 'cause I'm getting to the interesting part of this story. "Sakura-chan, isn't there a person who can, I don't know, do some magic? to reanimate the dead? Before you jump into any ideas, I'm not saying we let them turn my dad into a zombie or something, though I was told they can do that too… Anyway, I heard they can call out to the dead spirits. You know, just have a little chat with the soul and all that? Now THAT is what I'm talking about. What do you say? There IS someone who can do that, right?"

A pink brow curls up. "You mean a necromancer?"

"Necro-wha'…?"

"A necromancer. That's what you call someone who uses black magic to communicate with the dead."

I blink. "Oh. I thought they're called ninjas or something… Anyways…" I clap my palms together and put on my best puppy pout. "Could you pleeease help me find one? You know more than anyone else how much I miss my dad. I really, badly, desperately need to talk to him. Will you please, please, please help me?"

Sakura-chan stares at me for a while. Then she turns to teme, who's supposed to be meeting her gaze so they can exchange wary looks or maybe have some telepathic talk that goes something like: 'He's gone nuts, isn't he?' 'Hn. Tell me about it'

But contrary to what he should be doing, teme's on a glaring contest with the magazine.

Alright, here's the deal: In the book of "A Million Things Teme Cannot Do or Simply Suck at Doing," written by yours truly, cooking may very well be on page one. So I don't really get why he's so into my "Ramen Flavors and How to Cook Them" magazine right now. And from the twitch of Sakura-chan's eyebrow, I'm guessing she doesn't get it either.

She kicks him on the shin. Teme glares at her. Sakura-chan smirks then faces me, trying to pull an innocent look and doing a hell of a good job at it.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Naruto." She is saying, unaffected by Teme's I'll-fry-you-alive-with-my-badass-glare look.

"But I need to do it, so I can put an end to this suffering!" I place my hands over my heart for a more dramatic effect, unaffected by Teme's I'll-fry-you-alive-with-my-badass-glare-next-if-you-don't-shut-the-hell-up look.

"This isn't just for my sake, you know." I go on anyway. "I wanna be strong for mom, too. I wanna show her that if I can move on without dad, then so can she. You know, sometimes I'd listen outside her door, and I'd hear how my mother cried for him. I pray for her even more than me. I pray for her even moore thaaan meeeeeeeee… Te-nen-ten-ten…ten…ten…"

They stare at me (yes, they – even the teme!) Hold on a sec, let me rephrase that: They gape at me as if I've magically turned into Mr. Vandross himself. Not to brag or anything, but I do have a pretty good singing voice.

I clear my throat, take a sharp breath, then… "I know I'm prayiiiiing for much too mu–"

"Fine, fine, we get it!" Sakura-chan cuts in. Oh there it is again! The rainbow thingy. Told you she does that often. "We'll help you find a necro, BUT ONLY if you stop wailing like a baby everytime you watch your dad's videos."

I nod and feel my mouth stretch to my ears. "Deal."

"And Naruto?"

"Hm?"

"Since you recited some song lyrics, don't forget to add a disclaimer to this story."

Elasticity – that's a common property between a rubber band and my grin… Am I correct? Elasticity's a property of solids, right? Well it has to be. 'Cause that's what Sakura-chan wrote in our last Physics homework… uh, which I just happened to have a glimpse of… while it was on her desk… and while she wasn't looking… um… we're getting off topic here.

Let's go back to the rubber band analogy, shall we? So, you know that moment when you hold a rubber band on both ends, stretch it as far as it can go, and then release it suddenly? Yeah, just like that, my grin falls with a snap.

"I was singing, Sakura-chan. It's called SINGING!"

It's bronze, it's a serpent's head, it has ruby stone eyes staring back at us, it appears to be biting a huge metallic loop that's hanging from its mouth, and it's attached to the black wooden door of the necro's place. Any guess what that is?

For once, Teme made himself useful by knowing someone who can do black magic. This dude happens to be an ex-member of Itachi's college fraternity. Apparently, he became a professional spell caster, far from the medical course he graduated from.

We had to search for his address though, but that's fine with me. For a chance to talk to my old man, I'd search for this necro whatever it takes. I'd swim the seven seas, climb Mt. Everest, take a dive at Niagara Falls, run the stretch of the Great Wall of China, and reach the highest level of Tetris. To my ginormous relief, I didn't have to do any of those, since I could just turn to Google. Saved us a great deal of time, too.

And so… among the website suggestions for some crazy cool anime with sannins and hokages, the right link led us here – a two-storey building sandwiched between a barber shop and a wig shop. Few people and cars passed by the streets, probably because this place is a secluded part of town. Typical. I mean, I'm trying to tell a horror story after all.

"Naruto?" Sakura-chan whispers behind me. "It's not too late to change plans, you know."

I shake my head and purse my lips. "There's no backing down, the three of us have come a long way to get here."

Teme growls beside Sakura-chan. "Count me out. I was dragged into thi–"

An elbow collides with his side. Teme glares at the culprit. Sakura-chan doesn't notice 'cause she's looking at me all along. "Actually, 'here' is only a thirty-minute drive from your house. But whatever, just hurry up and knock. This place gives me the creeps."

Remember our little guessing game? Right. Place in your final bets people, 'cause I'm about to announce the answer.

I face the door once again (wait for it…), reach for the knocking device (Ta-dah! There you have it.) then make it work for three consecutive thuds.

Few seconds pass, then some metallic sounds come from the other side. The door creaks open to a crack, where a white-haired man peers at us.

"Who are you kids?" He mutters.

"Um… Good day, sir. I'm Naruto and these are my friends. We're looking for Mr. Orochimaru? Can we talk to him? Please?"

Dark eyes narrow behind a pair of specs. "What's your business with him?"

"We, uh… You see, we heard that Orochimaru can summon a dead man's spirit, so we're hoping–"

"Dead, you say?" He swings the door wide open then steps aside. "Get in."

So without another word, we walk past him and into a room with dim yellow lighting. Before he closes the door, I spot a man with a half-shaven head, spouting curses at the barber shop next door. He meets my eyes for a brief moment, and then marches over to the other next door – the wig shop. Talk about convenient shop locations.

Four-eyes locks the many bolts and latches at the door, then turns to face us. "Follow me."

So we do. The place resembles that of an antique gift shop: creaky floor boards, dusty furniture, and old-looking… stuff are everywhere. By stuff, I mean rows of medieval-looking bookshelves, out-of-this-world statues, some large vases and jars, animal skulls on the walls, and pretty much every creepy item you can and cannot imagine to have existed.

There's a wooden counter at the far corner, and behind it is a curtain. By curtain, I mean those strung-together seashells hanging by a doorway – you know, those small colorful ones that make clicking noises? We pass through it, ending up in another dimly lit room.

What's with all the dim atmosphere? Energy-saving? I shrug. Oh well.

Shelves lined three of the four walls. But the shelves don't just hold books, no. There are also some glass containers similar to the ones we use in our chemistry class. I forgot what they're called. Sakura-chan knows them, I'm sure; but right now, I'm too freaked out to open my mouth and ask. There are also jars with unidentified floating objects in them, a bunch of garlic, dried leaves, potted plants, some… dolls? What the– Are those voodoo dolls?

A chill runs down my spine, and then crawls back up to my armpits and limbs, earning a standing ovation from the hairs on those places. At the center of the room and right before us is a crystal ball on a small circular table. At the far wall to our right – the only one without a shelf on it – two small couches face each other with a coffee table in between. The man sits on one, and then waves his hand, beckoning us over.

"I'm Orochimaru-sama's apprentice, Kabuto." He says, as soon as we manage to squeeze ourselves on the other couch, with me sitting in between Teme and Sakura-chan.

Then we play a game of 20 questions where Kabuto does all the asking.

"Where's your master?" Teme says suddenly.

"Yeah, where's your master?" I second the notion.

Kabuto pushes up his glasses with the finger – I wonder if he did that on purpose. "Orochimaru-sama's out of the country at the moment. I'm afraid he cannot aid you with your demands."

"WHAT?! Then why didn't you say so in the first place?" That's me. Obviously.

He shrugs. "I'm merely curious about your purpose. It has been a long time since we dealt with clients asking for necromancy. Most of them asked for it only to extract valuable information from the dead, more likely a safety combination or the whereabouts of a rumored hidden treasure. I must say, you're one of the few who have fairly good intentions. But unfortunately, Orochimaru-sama's not around."

Sakura-chan fidgets beside me. "Then, how about you? You're his apprentice, right? Can't you do it?"

"Yeah, can't you do it?" I second again.

Kabuto shakes his head. "Necromancy requires a very meticulous ritual. It could only be perfected with mastered skills, and I have yet to reach my full potential at using black magic. The method I know of can be quite risky. Moreover, I haven't put it into practice yet. On the other hand, Orochimaru-sama's method is more accurate, and of course, also comes with a reasonable compensation. I doubt some high school kids could afford it. Although, I wouldn't be so sure of that, would I?"

"About that…" Sakura-chan drawls, turning to me with narrowed eyes. "Naruto, we haven't discussed about the money."

Teme pierces me with a glare. "How do you plan to pay them, dobe?"

I force a grin to lighten up the mood, hoping it doesn't look anywhere near a sneer. "Ehehe, you guys… Am I not your awesomest friend in the whole world? I mean, what are friends for, right? Can you stand seeing a friend who's in need of so much help? C'mon, we all know you two have more bucks than I do…"

Threat set their eyes on fire, burning the short strings of patience connected to their explosive tempers.

Did I mention I'm sitting between them?

I choke a few laughs, and then stop, and then gulp, and then whisper, "Please?"

After more talk, some price negotiation, and a few beatings (aimed at yours truly), it's settled that Kabuto will be the one to do the ritual. Much cheaper that way. He warns us that it may or may not be successful. He even offers that we don't have to pay if it fails; says he'd consider it as practice and whatnot.

So… there may be some kind of impending danger, but that's fine with me. For a chance to talk to my old man, I'm gonna have to take the risk.