Main Pairing: SasuNaru
Main Genre(s): Romance, Angst, Humor, Horror, Mystery, Thriller, Psychological
Warning: AU, language, mature contents, and 'implied' suicidal intentions
Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions. But dreaming is simply running away. When Sasuke sleeps, it's not to escape life but to find reality, and a reason to exist.
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When his world darkens, all Sasuke needs to brighten it is to close his eyes and dream. It's the only way he can step out of the shadows.
He sleeps.
It's all he does and all he can do.
That's probably why he's so pale, like a newly coated porcelain doll. He's becoming frail within, and much passionless outside. But why is he still so strong? He doesn't see the world of light because his eyes are always shut. He's starting not to care anymore. The world can go fuck itself, screw the people, and to hell with reasoning life.
Billion problems after another are starting to pile up while built up frustration is becoming an only emotion. They become worse when he's awake, molesting him like an annoyingly itchy scab you want to claw out so bad.
He waits by day -- acting in robotic movement -- unconsciously pleasing others with nothing but merely standing there like a large statue made of money with a gold penis.
He follows his shadow, the only thing he can stand seeing, the only thing to trust. Waiting, though not patiently, until nighttime arrives, so that everyone has shut their mouth. Then, his headaches would subside.
Everyone who wants a piece of his bloody skin, his private life, seems to burst out in every impossible corners and everyone who wants a piece of his heart are too afraid to creep up behind him like another stalker tailing him two feet behind. But then again, that was when he was in high school.
Nobody in this reality can satisfy his needs. Not a being real enough can fill his emptiness, who can light up a torch and burn his frozen soul into ashes. Burn his mind with images, unforgettable.
Like... satisfying sex? Inside his head, searing him, making him addicted to that different darkness, and stabbing him in murderous sin, stitching his eyes shut so he can never open them again.
That's how he sleeps.
Deep enough that he may never wake up again.
After all... that's how soporific drugs and morphines work.
He's not suicidal... he just doesn't give a shit. It's not that he wants to die really bad. He's just letting it come when it wants to come... because he doesn't care.
For death means eternal sleep.
Hatred was his reason to live, and it made him angry. He can't get a break. Positivity just isn't enough no matter how he fakes it. But everything will change soon and the only reason he's got now to keep living only exists in his dreams.
Quietus : o1
close your eyes
It started when he was twelve, but he was younger than that when he discovered morphia. At eight, he'd been busying himself watching his older brother babysit the neighbor's dog while they were away on vacation. Itachi never let him play with it because it would bite him or bare its teeth like some rabid canine that wanted to tear the skin off his face.
Only Itachi could control it -- along with a leash -- so the younger Uchiha was left observing him from afar. Mother and Father didn't allow him to own a pet... preferred to watch him take care of his studies than some animal. They were never too hard on him, though, especially Itachi, but high expectations on education and success was seriously considered.
Although he was already halfway through elementary at such a young age, Uchihas were always home tutored in levels five grades higher than a normal elementary schooler. Just as Itachi graduated elementary at the age of eight, junior high at ten, and now undergoing high school graduate level at thirteen.
Free time mostly consisted of physical activities, almost at a near labor of complete exhaustion, with both Itachi and Sasuke, quested by their father.
Still, Sasuke always got what he wanted. But when he wasn't allowed to get something, the rule was firm and followed: 'work twice the hardest to reach it', and he'd find himself doing high school tests at home -- just to sleep-over at a friend's house for two days. And that was IF he scored more than fifty percent correct.
Nobody knew much about what Uchihas do to succeed. Sasuke never had real friends his age, or any age at all, to tell them things that went within the Uchiha mansion. And when he does, he would wind up pretending they were ever friends after for saying things like how cruel his mother and father were to make him study so much.
He loved his parents, but not to the extent that he felt comfortable enough to tell them his personal problems. The only thing close enough to telling them everything was if he achieved something to their worth.
It was Itachi he went to every time he ran home crying, hiding inside his brother's room. At that time, Sasuke noticed that Itachi had started speaking to him strangely -- particularly their last conversation. That afternoon, he sat at the foot of Itachi's bed, crying, as the older Uchiha sat beside him.
"You shouldn't rub your eyes so hard whenever you cry," Itachi had told him, "it will only ruin your complexion and demeanor."
He sighed.
"But, but--!" Sasuke cried, wiping his tears with the back of his hands, "he said mother and father were evil people for making me do things kids hate to do!"
Itachi brought up a hand to gently rub Sasuke's hair in a soft motion, bringing them to wipe his tears away. He tilted his head to look at the younger one with passive eyes.
"Do you hate what you do?"
"No, I don't," the little Uchiha sniveled.
The mid-morning sun shone outside. Itachi's bedroom window was tightly shut. Sasuke couldn't remember when it was last opened.
"People who assume are not your friends," his big brother clearly uttered, "those who bring words of lies out of their tongue are not your friends."
Sasuke put his hands down from his face and stared up at his brother. He didn't get it, but the way Itachi spoke made him rethink.
"Then... then I shouldn't be friends with him?"
Itachi's hand gently stayed at the top of Sasuke's head.
"No," he smiled, "you have much important things to think about than companions... Do you remember what it is?"
It was Sasuke's turn to tilt his head.
"Of course, it's to try and catch up to you," he answered as-matter-of-fact.
"Good. Then you're fine."
Sasuke considered for a moment, and then smiled. He wanted to hug Itachi, but Uchihas didn't find comfort that way. Besides, he rarely saw his brother aside from physical activities and extra tutoring.
So he settled with merely smiling proudly.
"Okay," he hopped out of Itachi's bed and headed towards the door, "I'm heading to the playground. Bye!"
"Remember, Sasuke," his elder brother called out.
Said name stopped and looked at the other over his shoulder. Dear elder brother sent him a strange gaze he couldn't quite understand -- still vernal and uninformed.
"It's alright to hate that friend of yours, if you can. It can lead you to a greater source of power," a corner of his lips curved, "a very great power."
At a young age, even with enough acknowledgment, Sasuke didn't understand the words. A small smile of confusion fell upon the little boy as he walked out with a slight knowledge of his own. But that was until the incident after the neighbor's dog, which Itachi babysat for a week and a half, did Sasuke realize just what grueling impacts that would have on him.
Present Time.
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Pitch black.
No air. No ground. No sky. No life.
The moon didn't glow silver, nor did the sun shine gold. Just black and nothing else. But somewhere along the universe of no stars, two entities subsists.
A boy -- a young man, rather -- stood still in the black air, staring at a massive cage that faded halfway into the dark. Two synchronized breathing passed and the second sighed through the thick bars. Silence was the company until the tension broke. The man watched the large creature in the cage as it sat there staring back, hanging upside down from him, as if the alignment of the premises was distorted.
Then, the creature broke tensity by nuzzling the space between two silver poles with a humungous black nose. Large slit crimson eyes narrowed with no malice within. Tonight, it wordlessly wept tears of blood.
"Does it hurt when you open your eyes?" its voice was a deep rumble but there was a sad monotone behind it, along with a gaze that pierced through the core.
The man nodded.
"It hurts like I've never hurt before in my life."
The creature lowered its upper body to level its gaze with his face, tilting its head to one side and raising its two large ears in wonder.
"Does it really?" it marveled, "I never mind the hurt when I close my eyes. It's like... being pinched... or bitten by an ant. Bearable. But when I open them, I see how the pain is made... and the hurt gets so overwhelming my heart breaks a thousand pieces."
"I'm sorry," the human whispered. Pain clung into the blackness, invisibly molding out their heart. He watched the creature blink at him but, before he took a step forward, the beast drew back its nose and he stopped.
"And when my heart breaks over and over and over, I think of you," it continued.
The human pulled the hand that unconsciously stretched forward back to his side. It spoke as if there was another man inside it. As if he was talking to another human.
"...Why?"
One tail of its tails flicked.
"Because when I'm hurt... I think of you. When I break, I think of you. When I feel like dying, I think of you," it said. It laid down on its stomach, head on front paws, still gazing with ruby eyes.
The human looked at the darkness he was seemingly standing on. They've had conversations like this -- every thing they talk about revolved around this. Neither of them elaborated their questions. Then again, neither of them gave accurate replies.
"Do you hurt that much?"
There was a pause, but it was never too long.
The beast smiled and replied, "yes. Yes, I do," then eyed him. Hollow monstrous eyes glowed like dying lamps, lighting the human boy's from features, half the size of his upper body. They mirrored his eyes, as well. They were glassy and large enough, but neither one shone his reflections, no matter how near he was towards it. Even tonight, as he hung five feet away, he couldn't see himself.
This night the monster casted sadness.
"But you're hurt, too," it said, "it may not be the same hurt as me... but you're hurt just as much."
The boy nodded. He moved his head up and gave an occupying smirk.
"But it's bearable," he silently laughed, "when my eyes are close, as well. That way, everything becomes dark and I see you again."
The beast made a noise, something of a growl and giggle blended in its furry chest.
"I'm flattered," it purred, "that, through pain, I can heal you as you can mine."
It made him go to it. What was one tiny step forward turned into another that grew until he stood right in front of it. He stared at the beast with want while his right hand started to tremble in need.
Those two eyes closed and he let out a breath he had been holding.
Approval.
The beast and the cage were lucid but he could still touch it. Because now, it wanted to be touched. It moved its large black nose, nested it between two bars, and he automatically shot out his hand to touch it.
"The world is delicate... how do we handle it with care?" he questioned, closing his eyes, his small hands rubbing on its huge chin, brushing some satiny orange furs between his fingers, "pain and suffering breaks innocence all the time, you don't even need to count."
"One, two, three," the beast responded, "it's subconsciously. You can't help it. You're just waiting until everything's okay this time. No more faking, no more smiling --"
"No dreaming," he finished and smiled, "no more dreaming."
The beast slowly opened its eyes and stared at him. This time, they weren't bloody red.
It was the color of the clearest water that made him swallow with thirst.
"I'm here. I'm close to you. Don't let me disappear. Make me come alive," were its last words before the human, the cage, and the beast sank into darkness as if they were never there from the start.
The alarm clock had already rang five hours ago when Sasuke lazily opened his eyes. The only thing that woke him from his drugged sleep was the usual ongoing screams outside his apartment. The construction a few blocks away seemed to have started earlier now.
He groaned and tardily flipped over to his stomach, his right hand searching for something. Of course, not even a large piece of white cloth so-called a blanket was enough to warm him up against the freezing weather. He shivered and curled himself at the edge of the rickety bed, groaning in daze while cursing for not remembering to turn the stupid heater on yesterday.
It was a cold November morning. It was a challenge moving his fingers, especially clenching his hands. The pills were still in effect as it was difficult to think. Events of yesterday, the days before that, and last night were a blurred memory.
Did he use alcohol to drain down the pills? Fuck. He promised -- with a blood oath -- several people he was close with that he would never do that again or his brains will really screw up his business career.
Outside, the screaming of constructors rose. He glared at the curtain-less window. What day was it today? He didn't even know why the alarm clock was set.
When he closed his eyes, hoping to dream of it again, his cellphone rang, startling him to sit up. With a frustrated sigh, he rubbed his temples and narrowed his eyes at the noise. Why the hell was it in high volume and under the pillow? He grabbed the phone in disgust and flipped it open as far he could with numb fingers.
"What?" his voice came out as a groggy snarl.
There was a long pause.
"Judging by that unintelligent way of greeting, I would say you really had a rough night," the person on the other side scoffed.
Sasuke shut his eyes and continued massaging his forehead.
"What do you want?" he scowled.
"What do I want?" the other man asked, trying to sound surprise, "I was sure it was you that wanted something from me."
Sasuke opened his eyes and glared holes at the white wall ahead of him.
"What?"
"Is that the only first word of the sentences you can think of right now?" the other mocked, "don't tell me. You really plunged yourself last night. Truly idiotic."
"Hyuuga, I will kill you if you do this to me one more time."
"Not everyone is perfect," the caller said, not listening, "two days ago, Uchiha, I clearly remember you calling me for a seven o'clock morning appointment on Monday in my office. I'm guessing you want another month's check-up."
And slowly, he remembered. Sasuke cursed when he looked at the time. Neji 'hmm'-ed.
"Didn't Haruno remind you to put your cell volume high?" he questioned, "She's been bothering me about it, too, and there's nothing I can do but listen to her quetch like a miserable love-struck caterpillar. I called three times and nobody was picking up."
"Fuck," there was an unwilling tone of resignation in Sasuke's voice, "why is it that you talk too much when you receive the first end of the gold string?"
"I will do anything to irritate you," Neji admitted -- defiantly -- with cold passion that Sasuke could've sworn he heard the other adding 'anything' inside his head.
"Hn," Sasuke muttered, "I'll be there by one." He hung up without saying goodbye, before Neji did the honor, and threw the thing somewhere to his side.
There was nothing inside the room. It was a low-cost bachelor suite he rented because he needed to get away from his own place. There was no personal belongings, just common necessities. He wasn't allowed to bring paperwork with him (his secretary hid them) but he found out where they were hidden and decided to take the whole stack with him.
Whose idea was it to force him on a vacation?
He glared at the broken wine bottle on the floor he recalled throwing against the wall last night out of anger.
Ah, right. Itachi. He grabbed the thin blanket from the floor and placed it back on the bed. He silently prayed a curse on his brother.
This place was only temporary. He needed it, anything, to get away. From everyone and everything. He wanted to go back to his office, where only he existed and faced anyone indirectly and by papers. Not his real apartment -- that was where the people he knew very well came. And they came whenever they wanted.
There was a study table beside his bed. Luggage was mostly consumed by work papers and textbooks, as more papers piled his table. The opened black laptop on the side was never turned off, nor were the other gadgets lying around it. His blackberry was beeping loudly. He went towards the table and turned it off, turning the alarm with the text 'Hyuuga: Monday; 7 A.M.' off. Then a whole screen of his week's schedule popped up and he stared at the previous schedule he had already attended.
'Uchiha: Sunday; 4 P.M.'
With disgust, he deleted that as well as this morning's message and placed the agenda back to its place. He strode towards the kitchen corner and walked in the bathroom. There was no fridge, or anything within his apartment. If he did, it would mean he was comfortable with this location and that was the last thing he wanted to feel after moving around so many times every year.
He stood in front of the sink, observing his appearance in the mirror. He was paler than before but the dark around his eyes became more prominent. His lips pursed into a straight line.
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He sat in front of Itachi, his brother's large mahogany desk between. It was a good barrier. It kept Sasuke from punching his brother. He was leaning against the chair, legs crossed, arms on the armrest with an equal blank stare he gave to his brother as the other gave to him.
"If you work under my building instead, you would be living luxury and power," his brother suggested.
Sasuke clenched his fists.
"I'd rather take over Orochimaru's than yours."
"Haven't you already?"
The younger Uchiha narrowed his eyes.
"Fuck you."
Itachi finished signing the paper and handed it to him.
"I don't need to gain accomplishments through illegal imports," Sasuke continued calmly, taking the paper, "you can play this game any way you want but I'm going to surpass you in my own way. Besides, we're already working together. I don't need to stay in your building permanently just to see your face."
"Suit yourself, little brother. You will regret what it is I could have offered you than that of Orochimaru's deal."
"You've already offered me enough."
"Oh?"
Itachi raised an eyebrow, fingers knitted together and laid underneath his chin.
"Mom and dad's death."
And then Itachi smirked.
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It aggravated him. He had kept his cool until he came back to his apartment, and he immediately indulged himself with pills, thinking only one way out to convey his suppressed emotions. With a glass of wine. The last thing he remembered before passing out was screaming as he threw the bottle and watched the liquid spread onto the tile, pretending it was his own blood.
Lately, that was how he managed to solve irrelevant problems that was out of business situations. Pandering on medication to ease himself, and keeping every thought concerning outside of business only to himself. Every day. Every single day. There was always something—anything—that tempted his frustration. Whether it was Neji, Kiba, Lee, Kakashi, Ino, Sakura, or himself, there was never a ray of good light he could focus on.
They were all out to get him.
To heal him from whatever it is that kept making him hate this world, everyone. Something flashed in his dull black eyes. A tint of red in the eyes of his reflection, reminding him of a different mirror he couldn't see through.
Crimson eyes that rarely turned into pools of desirable water. Messy black hair were everywhere, hanging onto his cheeks with sweat from his dream. Black eyes gazed back at the same pair of eyes. He watched as his reflection held out a hand until he was palming his own inn the mirror, as if reaching for something.
"I'm here."
It repeated questions, sometimes one sadder than the other.
"I'm close to you."
It repeated answers, altering them in different words, ways, and possibilities he wanted to take hold on to.
"Make me come alive."
It made something in his chest clench in ache, as its words sounded akin to misery and reaching out to him. Only him. It only came in his dreams when his sleep was troubled, or when his mind was reeling away from sanity.
Morphine was an optional addiction that ease him at daylight. It made him physically alleviated for a few hours. It never relieved the pain inside as pills did, but it was something he always used to let his body just drop to the floor like puddle, waiting to evaporate into a sunlight he wanted to feel. It was only a year ago from now that he started taking sleeping pills. Sometimes, it wasn't to just die. It was as easing as morphine had been. It was only to forget, even for a temporary moment of the night.
To help him get away from reality and back to the creature that soothed him. To grab onto an extending hand in his dreams of a stranger in the darkness with eyes the color of clear untouched ocean... distracting him from the oddly familiar notion that -- maybe -- he was already insane to begin with.
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to be continued
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is a different verse of my previous -- in progress -- fanfic 'In Vertigo' (to which I'm still having a hard time breaking down the plot, after 3 years of not updating -- oh God, I am so sorry everyone Q_Q). If you noticed that the first part is very similar to In Vertigo that's because it sort of is. I always see Sasuke as a stature of God but still very, very vulnerable at the same time and I had no other idea of how to describe Sasuke in different words. Don't be surprise if most of my fanfic picture him like that. The rating will come up to NC-17/R/M in later chapters.
This is in the process of being beta'd. It was hard to wait so I edited some out myself and will replace this chapter with the beta'd version.