If These Walls Could Talk
Author's Note: This entire story has been taken down and completely rewritten. The things that tempted me as a child no longer apply as an adult. Those who have the original saved somewhere please know and understand I do not condone the relationship I originally set up. I still think the message I intended behind this story is important, so I'm giving it another shot.
The first time I met Sasuke Uchiha he was four years old. He had come skidding into the dining room as naked as the day he was born with his mother close on his heels. In one hand she held his clothes and the other clutched a yellow comb shaped like a rubber bath duck. By the way my own four year old, Naruto, stared longingly after him - and his apparent free reign of the house - I knew from that moment on it was the beginning of a long and tedious friendship.
I turned to the boy's father, Fugaku, who simply downed his scalding mug of sake in one gulp and smiled sheepishly. My good friend was known to be down-to-earth, but even he could not have imagined his child would come screaming through like a Hell-hound, mooning us as he went.
The Uchihas were a well-off family. Not as wealthy as the Hyuuga's, mind you, but still saw a lot more income coming in than I did before I became the Yondaime Hokage. This took place eleven years ago…before the Uchiha massacre. Sasuke and Naruto were only eight at the time.
I can still remember waking up in the dead of night to the sound of someone sobbing heavily at my front door.
Stumbling around Naruto's game system and amidst a few quiet curses, I make it to the front door and throw back the lock. I am completely taken by surprise to see Sasuke bawling his eyes out on my welcome mat. I react immediately, bending and scooping his light frame into my arms and cradling him against my bare chest. I'm disoriented and scared. I slide down against the wall and hold him against me as he gasps and screams, lungs fighting for a breath.
I thank the gods my son is a hard sleeper because I don't think I could have handled them both in that moment. I smooth Sasuke's wind-blown hair, bangs damp with tears and snot, and rock my upper body back and forth. Hopefully it has the same effect on him as it does to Naruto. Eventually his heaves subside to small, shuddering cries.
"What happened?" That is just it. Sasuke never cries unless he is injured badly, or something terribly wrong has happened.
His words are shaky as his brother's name leaves his lips in a hysteric mantra. My body becomes rigid as stone as he stutters out the next word. I hold him tighter as I stand and dart to my kitchen where the phone is. I punch in a few numbers hurriedly, quietly cursing when my shaky fingers nearly drop it. It rings three times before I hear my former student's groggy voice from the other end.
"Ahh, Minato, what is it? It's three in the…"
"Wake the other jounin and get over to the Uchiha compound. Something's wrong," I cut him off, my voice transforming into his Hokage.
Kakashi's voice drops a decibel as he whispers into the phone, "What's going on?"
"I don't know," I reply heavily, "but I have Sasuke here with me." I hold him tighter to my chest when he wails harder at the mention of his home.
"Aa."
The line goes silent, and I let the phone drop to the countertop. The loud noise brings forth a fresh wave of tears from Sasuke. I'm forced to set him down in the counter next to the phone in order to rummage through the votive near me for a tea bag, all while keeping a reassuring hand on his leg. I flip a switch on the stove to heat up the water kettle and open another drawer to get a clean dishrag.
Wetting it warm water from the faucet, I wipe Sasuke's face. His eyes scrunch shut as I brush over them gently. "Do you want to talk about it," I question after a few moments before dropping the tea bag into the whistling kettle.
His eyes drop to his knees, and he balls his fists into his lap. I take that as an immediate and resolute "no". I hand him a cup of the tea, and he eyes it suspiciously before taking a sip. The only sounds in the small kitchen are the methodical ticking of the wall clock and the sniffling hiccups still coming out of Sasuke.
I run my palm over my face realizing how truly tired I am. Sasuke hops from the counter, his bare feet making near-silent noises, and places the empty mug on the table. He stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next, and altogether avoiding eye contact.
"Do you want to sleep in my bed with me?" I ask, thinking he might calm down some more if someone stayed with him.
He shakes his eyes and wordlessly pads down the dark hallway. I'm not surprised in the slightest when he stops in front of Naruto's door. Smiling softly down at him, I open the door and watch as he tiptoes to my son's side and lifts the covers. Naruto's eyes blink open sleepily, impervious to sound, but aware of the slightest physical change in the environment. He lets out a muffled groan and flops an arm out to pat Sasuke with.
"What are you doing here?" he mumbles sleepily but scoots over in the bed anyways to allow Sasuke to slide in next to him.
The Uchiha buries his face into Naruto's side, his shoulders slumping forward with exhaustion and defeat. "I had a bad dream."
I close the door softly behind me and stumble into the laundry room where I had laid my clean uniform the night before. I slip into the pants, shirt, and vest in record time before making my way back to the kitchen. I punch in Shikaku Nara's number hoping his wife will pick up the phone. To my immense relief, her brash voice sounds from the other end.
"Minato, what is going on?! Shikaku stormed out of bed and out the door like a bat out of Hell!" Yoshino is shouting into the phone, and I place my hand over the earpiece to protect my eardrum.
"I'm about to go and find out. I was hoping you could come over and watch the boys."
I hear the dial tone shortly after, so I assume she's on her way, and I place the phone back on the cradle. My nerves are shot as I wait for her to show up and when she finally does, a sleepy Shikamaru in tow, I mumble out a hurried thank you and body flicker myself out of my living room.
The air is cool outside, and the strong gusts of wind actually make me shiver. Though that could be the sense of foreboding that has settled deep in my gut. The Uchiha compound materializes in front of me and already it's mayhem. There are dozens of shinobi rushing back and forth. Every ten feet or so there's a bloody body covered with a white sheet. I emit a long, shuddering breath as my eyes rove the sight before me.
I have seen death many times in my life. Yet this, this, shakes me to my core. A ninja skids to a stop in front of me, and I recognize the silver hair instantly.
"What happened here?" I croak out, annoyed that my voice can't be steadier.
"They're dead, sir. All of them," Kakashi pants out, wiping a bead of sweat from beneath his visible eye.
"Where's Itachi?" My throat is bone-dry, and it feels like my tongue has swelled inside my mouth. I know the answer without having to ask.
"He's not here. It's like he's just vanished."
A cold trickle of sweat skitters down my spine, and I swallow thickly. The wreckage of the compound and the bodies mingle before my wavering vision. "Sasuke's right," I whisper, "this is all just a bad dream."