Rating : T for language

Smile for the camera, darlings. This day goes down in history.

I'll decide what for tommorow.

Now I command : go outside. Look up at the sky, or stars, depending what time of day it is.

And I want you to smile.

Big and bright.

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When dressing like your crush gives you telepathy

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"Trick or Treat" he says, and his eyes could melt stars.

You stand in the open door, all defiance and rage, one hand gripping the frame with glaringly white knuckles. Your mouth is twisted into a thin line, one that flattens your whole face, erasing all wrinkles and suddenly you look so much younger.

You glare at an unknown spot on the wall behind him as you try so hard to avoid looking at him but it only makes him more determined to get your attention. We stand there, looking at you, and it's all silence as the last echoes of those words fade into nothing and god every second that passes you seem to shrink a little bit more, deflate back into the little kid you were near 5 years ago.

You utter a nonsensical grumble under your breath and turn on your heel to go back into the apartment, and we hear the sounds of rummaging echoing out through the open door.

It's near 20 degrees outside as we stand here shivering in our stupid costumes but ,if anything, the cold in your apartment is seeping outside and chilling us even more.

Minutes pass and the grin on his face is slipping off like water on a plastic sheet as he starts thinking that he's too old for this and this is too stupid and fuck that bastard won't ever come back and why did we come anyway and I watch him and smile because he's dressed as a blind man and it strikes me as the most ironic thing I could have ever seen.

You do come back though, not even bothering with a costume because you're Sasuke and Sasuke only believes in being real because what is real is what you deal with every day and you despise people who try to be what they're not.

You're still ignoring me, but not in the way you ignore him. Ignoring me comes naturally to you, but I can see the vein in your neck stand out as you force yourself to look away from him.

And I suppose it was a bit creepy to dress up as you, but it's really the only way I can be close to you. Before you ask, I didn't climb into your house and steal one of your shirts, the fan is painted on to one of mine.

I say I love you, Sasuke, because Halloween is supposed to be a time for fear and ghosts. And I think love is a synonym to both of those, for you.

And you're shoving nondescript candy bars into his pillowcase, head bent and bangs hiding half of your face in shadow, and he's smiling so brightly you cant see the scars on his face because he's painted over them and nobody notices it but me because i refuse to look at the twinkle in his eyes and the hope in yours.

Your face is in darkness because you never bothered to replace the light bulb in that old lamp next to your door and now it's dusty from time and clinging to the wall by a single wire and now I'm staring at that because anything is better than looking at you two and your infantile denseness.

I pick at a thread leading from my shirt as you step away from him and he sticks his tongue out at you. I suddenly wish I'd been listening more closely because your cheeks are suddenly redder than they were before and he's grinning wickedly and I want to know what he said.

I want to know if he figured out the secret words that make you smile, make you laugh, make you cry. Because dammit I've tried every combination of words in every possible language and yet you still find it so easy to ignore me.

And god knows nothing is ever simple in our world, in your world, in my world. Because you're standing there and he's still smirking and why haven't you hit him yet and why am I still standing here?

His voice is huskier than it has ever been before, and it is all I can do to not burst out laughing at the look on your face when he asks you why you never go trick-or-treating.

Because it's obvious, if you look close enough.

And the door is slammed in his face, but he's still grinning and smirking like the devil he is and he's so stupid and we're both pretending we didn't see that haunted look in your eye.

He turns to me, all blind eyes and frozen words. "Let's change costumes and try again."

As we walk away I mutter about him having no creativity, and he chuckles something about how he'll never be able to match my costume in fear factor.

A moment passes where all is quiet except the subtle beating of our hearts.

"Sakura..." His voice is so different, so soft, so imperfect and it pulls at my heartstrings so tightly that the thick resentment is put aside for the moment.

I can't bear it anymore, and my throat is so tense that I have to spit out the words. "Naruto, I understand... It's all right."

We almost trip over a little child, her white cape billowing behind her, her face alive with smiles and the promise of candy.

"It'll always be alright."

That feeling pressing on my heart magnifies, and he must feel it too. He stops walking and swallows loudly, an incomprehensible look on his face.

I keep walking.

My heart is heavy.

I am drowning in some mixture of resentment and a soul-wrenching love.

I think my next costume will be a pirate.

Happy Halloween!

Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

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