Leap Frog
Note: This fiction contains BL– a union of 'love' between two males.
And this is also my very first fan-fiction ever. I'm all for NaruSasu/SasuNaru but I've always been intrigued by ItaNaru, and a few other cracky pairings - all of which aren't heterosexual. Woi woi.
This has very little to do with actual frogs, so no frogs were harmed during the production of this fanfic. Watch out for profanities, some sexual references, OOCness, and boys xoxoing other boys.
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to Kishimoto, Masashi or as I like to call him, Makishi, creator of the amazing Naruto manga series. Sorry...
But thank you, and have a nice tomorrow.
Chapter One – Punch Heart
Every weekday morning it was like this.
He would sit and watch as the senior Leafs played a friendly game of soccer around the court. Actual tryouts were in two months, but Naruto had no intention of joining the team. In fact, Naruto hated soccer. He hated sports of all sorts, and yet he watched.
He watched for him.
He watched because he made it interesting - and he'd continue to do so until his big break.
Since he transferred into Konoha High his sophomore year, he refrained from wearing anything off the rack - anything with a nametag attached and whatever his peers accepted as a fad; solely out of fear of wardrobe superstition. In a red suede jacket, black dress top and green knee cut-offs, Naruto didn't dress to impress - for he dressed to leave an impression. "Everything's strictly handmade minus the shoes," he remembered; his hand traveling down his male blouse - which accented miniature red roses he sewn by hand a few months back - memories overlooking the many headaches and sleepless nights they once gave him.
His commitment to the strict dress code was now less than a year old, and it was all he could do for now if he ever decided to take this impression thing seriously. He had to work two jobs that summer to keep up with rent and suffice his little stitch and sew hobby - barely scraping by with the essential living expenses.
The jacket alone took him the entire summer to make. It didn't keep from the chill and it had yet to be finished up to his potential - but he wore it today for him.
Today he was going to make his move.
Today he was going to be a new man.
Today—
"Hey."
Naruto's head snapped up at the tall green-haired loudmouth Leaf who stood by the bleachers, currently accompanied by the rest of the team. Now under the spotlight he came to the realization that their game was over - his raven-haired crush coming closer his way as he walked side by side with the other Leafs.
Naruto panicked.
Oh God. It's him.
Oh my God. OhmyGod. OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
"Hey, I've been seeing you out here a lot lately," said player started as he grabbed his towel and duffle bags. Highly spiked green hair and all, he was the player with the most Leaf pride, and from observation Naruto concluded he was his infatuation's closest friend. He didn't seem irritated or flattered for that matter either. Just casual. "Are you thinking about joining us? We could use a few rookies like you to pick on."
"NO!" The blonde stammered a little too quickly, causing the Leaf members to laugh in unison. Bowing down and concealing that growing blush of his, he clenched his hands above his knees -fiercely fluttering his eyes to a close.
Why me? Today was supposed to be different.
Today, things were gonna be...un-Naruto.
The field grew quiet.
"Kaaaay. Well, if you ever change your mind, uhh…"
"Naruto. Uzumaki, Naruto," he completed for the senior, his lost confidence somehow returning to his senses.
"Naruto," the player repeated in confirmation. His crush stood by the outspoken green-haired Leaf, offering a small smile. Was it out of pity? Out of humor maybe? He didn't know, but Naruto couldn't help but smile in return-feeling a bit accomplished of his objective.
"Tryouts by first week of December, don't be afraid to ask this guy—"
"Uchiha, Itachi…" Naruto already knew his name. Everyone in town knew the name, but he first found himself obsessing over it when Itachi went to the guidance office for a schedule change two weeks ago. The small blonde was about to change his address and phone information that day, but with no writing utensil. Being the forgetful wreck that he was, he forgot to bring one. It was then that a high-grade steel foundation rollerball with the engraving, UCHIHA ITACHI was dropped on the counter -its pretty self settling directly above his student papers. Dark eyes met blue before Itachi walked away without a word, and since then Naruto's been smitten. And oh no, I'm daydreaming again.
"Okay. Well. See yer around," the loudmouth said, snapping the present back into his thoughts.
The Leafs were now leaving to hit the showers and whatnot, having hardly been perspired from practice as of the outdoor chill. Naruto felt like he could finally exhale that long breath he had jammed up his throat, nervous eyes slowly returning to the field as he caught sight of the Uchiha staring at him.
Duffle bag and towel in hand, he simply stood there speechless - the rustling of dying leaves and chirping sparrows making up for his habitually blank expression. Naruto wanted to say something. He wanted to stick to his word that he would make a move today, that he would in fact be "a new man," but he couldn't.
The Uchiha beauty had him raw, and he had him good.
"Nice jacket," he finally said smirking, before heading off as well.
"How long has it been now?"
"About two weeks, tomorrow," the young man answered nonchalantly.
When Uchiha, Sasuke started as a freshman at Konoha High last year he already wanted to make a crime scene out of the old hellhole.
Blow it up, jump off the roof, transfer out, anything!
It wasn't always like this though. Everything was perfect. Everything was bright and merry and going as planned, until he came along.
"So, let me get this straight," Haruno, Sakura started, already baffled as they came to a stop by the school's bicycle rails. Clad only in a yellow bohemian skirt and pink blouse even under the nippy weather, she could be described as user-friendly, "The Girl Next Door," some would say. As Sasuke's only childhood acquaintance and classmate, he had his reasons for trusting her today of all days.
If only she weren't so outspoken sometimes...
"You're telling me that Gaara...Gaara! Our high school sweetheart, has been picking on you since day one? Honestly Sasuke-kun, I'm beginning to worry. It's been how long and you still haven't asked me out?"
A few heads turned their way considering how loud she was being.
It nerved him.
It nerved him how she was being oblivious about his every word when it came to Gaara. Gaara this, Gaara that. Just shut the Hell up about him/her/IT already!
"A little louder so the next town can hear you..." Completely dropping the subject, the dark-haired sophomore walked past her and towards Konoha High's graffiti decorated entrance halls. The typical high school lowlives practically lived by the main entry; their cigarette fumes forming a dark cloud large enough to create its own thunderstorm over the small town of Konoha. He hoped they continued to breed more of their abusive kind, so then that way the damned school would flood under its own hurricane. It would be genocide by natural causes, he thought, and the one good favor the school could ever do for the world.
The building obviously wasn't just suffering from the luxury department, but the Uchihas had no choice but to attend the community school.
Something about setting an example to the common people - or so their father once said.
His feet routinely reached their destination even through the thickly crowded halls; legs randomly skipping over those who chose to park their lazy asses on the floor. Still lost in thought and on autopilot, he dropped his strap bag beneath him before opening his locker - the dials routinely turning to their destined numbers. He looked good today. He knew he did. But out of spite he glanced at his locker mirror from the corner of his eyes. Time seemed to have stopped as he checked himself out. If it weren't for the white tee with the black skull print and the dark-blue fitted jeans, he'd say he wasn't a hundred percent in love with himself.
All I have to do now is—
"Good moooorning, U-chi-ha."
"Shit," he muttered at his mirror, already catching a glimpse of the red-haired devil.
The young brunette slammed his locker door shut, forcing his full attention at the smaller boy standing by him.
"What now Gaara?" he asked in annoyance.
Please behave.
Please don't fuck me over.
Please...
Gaara's hair was a light fuchsia that day; the professional pink pigmenting leaving no hint of his naturally red strands. On the side he had pink little hairclips on with imitation sunflowers glued to the ends, the décor effortlessly merging with the red tattoo on his forehead. He was cute, perhaps too cute, for his delectability was like strawberry shortcake - the consequently hazardous sort with too much cream filling, too many hidden flavors and calories without the tall glass of milk to wash it down. Entirely in pink and white with black cut-off gloves, he covered his mouth with his hands as he giggled away, his pink nails sparkling like glitter even in the shabby halls.
"I missed you yesterday. I was out sick. Gomen ne? Sasuke-kun."
It was sickening how he mimicked Sakura so accurately with all the apologies and the pet names. Sasuke could barely stand just one Sakura, nevertheless two.
"Whatever," he grunted.
"That's okay U-chi-ha. You can get me that get-well card by next week," he cooed, his back now leaning against the beaten lockers with a soft ping.
They then stood in awkward silence for some time, Gaara silently encouraging a reaction, and Sasuke going in favor of an explanation to the greeting card deal. Refusing to get stuck in the dumb quiet they were in, Sasuke mouthed a response - a response that was miraculously saved by the bell.
The halls grew less crowded as first period commenced, allowing Gaara a chance to twist his smile into one of his terrifying sneers before stressing, "I'll make up for lost time…"
Now Sasuke certainly felt no guilt playing victim here. He was the victim – he still is the victim! And it was chilling how Gaara looked at him so menacingly. Gaara had no reason to put so much energy in making his life a living hell here at Konoha High - for Sasuke never asked for any trouble. He just wanted to pass the top of his class then get the hell out, go Ivy League, find himself a trophy wife, pop a few kids, play golf, and die with a real fucking incredible social security plan.
The Konoha dream...
Sighing as he reached down for his strap bag, he realized it had no straps.
Someone unhooked them.
No. Someone stole them.
What. The fuck?
"Amateur," he muttered - grabbing the load with both hands before furiously marching to class.
"Ya-hoo, Sasuke-kun! Over here!"
It was lunchtime, and Naruto wasn't all that hungry. Sakura and Ino sat on the Uchiha Ass-Kissers' table religiously, which regrettably was one table away from him. He watched as Sasuke slammed his handicapped-school bag on the table, obviously fuming over something. It made him nauseous how girls still wanted him even with all that attitude he carried around.
"Why can't he be more like Itachi?"
"Hmm? What was that, Naruto?" his friend of eight days asked as he joined the table, hands busy with his lunch. Shikamaru didn't always get himself involved in other people's business, and he knew this, but considering the fact that his head was on the table Shika had reason to ask.
Their other lunch mate Kiba later joined them. TenTen followed suit.
"Naruto, you alright?" someone asked. He didn't care to know.
"Unn. Not all that hungry. Think I'll skip for today."
He lifted his head and smiled lopsidedly. No one protested for they only nodded in uncertainty, so with that he left.
He wondered if the library was open that hour and if he'd even want to go if it were.
It drove him nuts how he was always so indecisive and irresponsible.
He had no clue why he was at Konoha High. He figured he wouldn't even make it past the tenth grade, considering how things for him were going in a never-ending downwards spiral leading to one direction; downwards. But like a good boy he found the library all by himself, truly a pat-in-the-back moment for the short blonde. He stopped by the checkout desk to find his Uchiha-genius seated at the far center by the windows, possibly searching for grammatical errors in the school's dictionary.
"May I help you?" the librarian asked, completely taking him off-guard.
His voice reminded Naruto of hissing snakes, and if the library was all made out of white he would perfectly blend in.
...'cause he's so friggin pale!
"I'm good. Thanks."
Taking a deep breath, he walked further into the library, his mind repeating the lines of confession he rehearsed the previous night:
"Hi...Sorry to bother you but I've been meaning to get this out of my chest. Ever since I met you two weeks ago, I've felt something...and I can't get you out of my mind? Et cetera et cetera?"
Was it too early to say? If not, was it too clichéd? Would it scare him away if Naruto ever admitted his infatuation for the older boy? There was only one way to find out and that was to say it.
He would worry about the consequences later.
Giving it a shot he broke the silence in the library by ferociously plopping himself down on the seat directly across from the dark-haired beauty, its thick metal legs violently grating the sparkly wooden tiles - one of the library's most prized possessions.
Well to Hell with elegance...
Disrupted from his studies, the young man gracefully looked at him with his head resting on his hand.
He said nothing, for there was nothing to say.
He looked bored.
Intimidating.
"H-hi. Itachi…" Naruto struggled, his voice dying in volume through each word, "I meant to tell you sooner, err—"
This is it...
"I…uh…"
Come on, you can do it...
"Here's…your pen."
What?
"Un."
Huh?
THAT WAS IT?
Reaching deep into his backpack, he pulled out the gorgeous rollerball - the pretty steel lining glistening even under the shadow of his grip. Just as he was about to hand it over Itachi stopped him.
"Keep it," he said hesitantly. His bangs loosely hovered over his eyes but Naruto couldn't help but feel mesmerized by them.
Somehow they made him feel…exposed.
Somehow they made him feel...naked.
He's letting me keep it! OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGodOHMYGOD.
"Thank you..."
Itachi smiled, his teeth too vain to bare themselves even for the young blonde.
"I never said it was for free..."
"...eh?"
"You can keep it in one condition."
Uh oh.
"You have to give me your number."
Jesus. Fucking. CHRIST!
Why?
Why did professor Hatake choose to hand out our textbooks TODAY?
"Late bastard..."
To be honest he had no reason to complain, because overall it was a pretty good day – until his literary professor decided to test his strength with a very late release of their big fat and heavy textbook. And to add more pain to injury he assigned homework on it, which was due the very next day, so Sasuke had no choice but to carry it home.
In his bag.
With no strap...
He chose to leave some of his books back in his locker, knowing he just might regret it later.
It wasn't his fault he could only carry so much.
"Yaaa-hoo!"
Sasuke turned around. It was about an hour after school let out and he wasn't expecting any other students at this hour.
Especially ones who personally knew him.
"Looking for this?" Like a cockroach, Gaara appeared from behind one of the building's support columns. He held up Sasuke's bag strap high in the air as he giggled, waving it triumphantly as if he won the Olympic gold medal for stealth. Thankfully however, the strap didn't look diseased.
"Actually no. Do you mind? I'm busy." Yes. Discourage him. Take that Gaara!
That was when Itachi's sports car pulled up in front of him with a screeching halt, its rims illuminating the bright red finish of the vehicle. Sasuke usually waited for him since they both had after-school activities, so the timing was less than coincidental, but it sure felt like it. A wave of victory grabbing a hold of his emotions as he reached for the car door, he turned to say goodbye - yet no one was there.
5:22 PM
The community bus was taking forever picking him up that afternoon, which was just his luck, because he was anxious to get home early just in case an important someone happened to call. His apartment was located near the school and yet too far to walk in manageable time, so he reluctantly waited, contemplating between walking and hitchhiking. The long journey home by foot seemed aim-able once he skipped off the sidewalk however, but then he spotted the bus -its headlights subliminally telling him to wait – 'I'm coming.'
It was a long wait nonetheless, his anticipation causing the trashy big-wheeler to run in slow motion until finally it stopped -the closed flap teasing the would-be passengers shivering from the autumn chill. Naruto growled under his breath when another one of his peers skipped him in line, short pink hair twirling in a circular motion as he, or she, turned to face him.
He remembered spotting the other around the bathroom stalls once or twice back at school, affirming it was actually a boy. Out of charity he smiled and let the move slide, his poor choice of judgment rewarding him the unexpected.
Did he just stick his tongue at ME?
6:12 PM
Naruto wobbled his way out, finding the outside chill now more relaxing than the unneeded air-conditioning he had to endure in the bus.
His building had no doorman and no security guard; just two regularly empty vending machines and one working elevator. The lobby was dim, and the yellow walls were no prettier than elaborate pee stains on their canvases.
To put it simply - it was a dump.
Two flights of stairs later he ran over to the door of his studio in excitement, furiously jamming his keys into the several keyholes decorating it. Once he made his way in he checked his voice messages.
There were none.
Not to panic. Right?
He took a quick shower before changing into his Looney Tunes pajamas. Naruto loved the huge Tweety bird printed on the back of the pajama top. Male or female, he had no idea what the little shit was, but he loved Tweety.
One instant beef bowl and raw egg later, his eyes scanned the hanging clock by the kitchen.
7:40 PM
"Okay. Why am I acting like a fucking girl?"
Deciding it was time to hit the books and start on his homework, the phone rang.
Naruto froze like a convict caught in the act, the temperature in his apartment suddenly dropping below zero.
Snapping out of his psychological-winter, he dashed for the phone.
"H-hello?"
"Naruto?"
"Y-yes. It's him speaking," he gulped.
"Hey. It's Shika."
"SHIKAMARU!" Disappointed he repeated, "Shikamaru? Why are you calling me?"
"Were you expecting someone else?"
"Actually, YES. Yes! I was..." Sighing in relief at how rude and picky he was behaving, he apologized, "Listen, I'm sorry for the way I reacted, it's just..."
"Uh huh. Well I only called to see if you were alright but since I'm convinced you're still Naruto, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Thank you…" Naruto smiled, knowing on the other end Shikamaru was smiling in return, as he patiently waited for a click and a dial tone before hanging up. Back to his dining table he reluctantly returned to his homework.
Books and Naruto did not mix, and somewhere along the line he felt himself drifting to sleep.
He remembered waking up several times, having rescued two dreams from drowning in his memory. He overslept -and possibly ruined his chances of ever talking to the Uchiha beauty a second time. Knowing this, he grew afraid to look at the clock.
I won't look at the clock.
I won't look at the clock...
10:05 PM
Still no sign of Itachi, and now the worst-case scenarios were flowing in. The thought of him being kidnapped, no—kidnapped and murdered crossed Naruto's mind. He refused to believe he'd been played, that he had the wrong idea all along - that he'd just been the victim of a little Uchiha hoax.
A play thing.
Back to the cruel child labor his teachers liked to call homework, Naruto struggled for the next hour.
11:11 PM
He sighed in defeat.
"11:11…Time to make a wish."
It was crawling towards midnight, and Sasuke was bored out of his mind. Having already prepared everything he needed for tomorrow's boring day at school, he felt like a sleepless-workaholic, and he had reason to. Everything was so easy -so effortless and dull rather. Deal with school, eat dinner, go to sleep, rinse, wash, repeat, it was all the same.
The never-ending cycle—the Uchiha cycle.
His cycle.
All tucked and ready for bed, he opened up his notebook computer and logged online. Konoha High had its own private chat, something his brother had organized and once moderated years ago. Sasuke used to frequent there during examination days his freshman year, when most of the honor students crash-coursed with the others, but on regular nights like these it was only full of idiots.
"Ah. Found one."
Spotting Gaara, he instant messaged him.
"Where'd you go? Punk," he typed. For a while there was no response, the chat itself deeming to be livelier than the conversation they carried - compelling Sasuke to close the window out of disinterest. However it didn't take long for Gaara's annoying fuchsia colored font to appear on his screen.
It was big.
It was really big.
And there were no sentences. Gaara even chose not to write in coherent words.
All it read was, ":D"
End of first chapter. Thanks for reading, liking, and/or hating.
Can't believe I had to go over this and correct the errors FF made on my original document.
Wooow.
Anyway, props to all the writers out there. It's so hard to organize your thoughts when it comes to writing. Not only that but it's even more difficult to start, haha. Bah.
I'll get used to it eventually. Just have to keep practicing right? Right? D:
Okay, I'll shut up for now. Ja ne.