Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine
Claimer: All the Songs/Poems you will find in the chapters ARE MINE! NO TOUCHIES!!! NO! bah…
Pairings: SasuNaru… do you really expect something different from me? Come on…
Summary: Uzumaki Naruto is a poet. Uchiha Sasuke is an artist. When both of them are forced to work on an English project together, they realize something about themselves and the misgivings of others.
I Bleed Black
Chapter Two
Naruto heard the bell ring for the class. He made his way out of the room as quickly as he could. Absentminded as he was, he forgot his sketchbook (which also held a great number of his poems to accompany the drawings) behind in Sasuke's possession.
Naruto, embarrassed by all the stares he had been getting during Lit, ran as quickly as he could towards his dorm room. His roommate looked at him strangely as he came in and slammed the door behind him, leaning against it.
Kyubi was an upperclassman, a year ahead of Naruto, but they still had been sharing the same dormroom for what seemed like ages.
"Anything wrong, Naruto?" Kyubi asked, looking up from his computer as the boy rushed in.
"I hate my classmates!" Naruto grumbled.
"Come on, don't you ever get tired of saying that?" the blonde's roommate asked. "You've been saying that everyday since you started coming to Konohagakure."
"Gomen…" Naruto muttered.
"It's okay, Naru-chan," Kyubi smiled. "I was being sarcastic." He paused, saving the document he was writing on his computer. "Now, what happened today?"
Naruto sighed, flinging his bookbag on the ground near his desk. He idly sat on his desk for a moment before answering. "We got assigned a partner project in Lit today, and since it was part of our Art class too… we were told to draw our partner in how we saw them." The blonde paused. Kyubi was like a big brother to him, but Naruto wasn't really sure why he was so afraid of the scene that he had witnessed back in class. "Do you know Uchiha Sasuke?"
Kyubi thought for a second, before nodded. "I had to tutor him last year in math. Expressionless kid, isn't he?"
"That's the thing. When he saw what I drew, he just began laughing, hysterically! It was really freaky," Naruto mumbled. He looked at his computer, checking his email. One new email. It was from an unknown person. Opening it, he began to shake with anger as he read.
I don't understand why a fucking loser like you was paired up with Sasuke. You don't deserve to be anywhere near him. NO ONE LIKES YOU, YOU FUCKING FREAK. Take my advice, Uzumaki, and stay away from Sasuke. If you go near him again, the consequences will be… painful. Don't think this is a joke. I'm serious. You will fucking die if you go near Sasuke again.
"Fucking assholes!" Naruto murmured to himself, deleting the email. "I'm sick of getting these emails!"
Kyubi leaned back in his chair, looking over at Naruto. "You got another threatening letter?" he asked.
Naruto nodded.
"Jeez, some people are just so bothersome," Kyubi grumbled. He grinned before continuing. "Hey, Naru-chan, you want me to kill 'em in writing for you. I do it very well."
Naruto grinned, feeling his mood lightening already. Kyubi was a writer, much like Naruto. Instead of poetry, however, he was best at short stories. Most of his short stories were gory, but Kyubi found that the gore gave him a release. His fictional enemies were always modeled after his real life ones. Although he wasn't the type to hurt anyone, unless given proper reasoning, one wouldn't know that from his writing.
Meanwhile, Sasuke was sitting at the oak tree he had first talked to Naruto at. He looked at the sketchbook that Naruto had left behind, staring at one of the pictures. It showed a teenage boy (who bore a lot of resemblance to Naruto himself) with a hole in his chest, blood seeping from that how. In the boy's hand was a gun. The walls around him were splattered in the red substance as well.
In messy handwriting, the boy had written a poem next to it. Sasuke grinned at he read it. Not because it was a very "happy" poem, but because he liked Naruto's poetry. He noticed that this poem, like the other, was simply untitled.
I don't have a history
My past is some old mystery
I don't know what happened before
Do I really care anymore?
Can't I be someone other than me?
Someone you haven't made me out to be
You've called me bitch, called me whore
I got my gun and I'm knocking at your door
And I put my gun up to my chest
One shot – its over – I can get some rest
Dropping blood… stains the walls…
Is it mine…?
Can it tell me all that I wanna know?
Can it show me where I need to go?
Yeah, you stare at me in disbelief
Call 9-1-1 and wish for relief
I laugh, choke, and spit blood from my throat
Letting it stain my treasured trenchcoat
Each and everyday is too much for me
So I'll cry, I'll die, isn't this what you wanted to see?
Stop your shrieks, this is what you told me to do
It's not suicide when the murderer's you
The pain is building behind my eyes
Will it take me off to Paradise?
Sirens scream and flashing lights
Interrupt the silence of the night
I'll go and never return
Leaving you with a lesson unlearned
And I'll sing:
Dropping blood… stains the walls…
Is it mine…?
Can it tell me all that I wanna know?
Can it show me where I need to go?
I walk down Heaven's way
Just like I did back in the day
That was before I knew
How much of me was in you
You swear you hate my soul
Saying I was cold – saying I was coal
Each day and all day
I go down the path but I don't pray
God kicked me out of Heaven and said
I'd wake up in a hospital bed
I was singing:
Dropping blood… stains the walls…
Is it mine…?
Can it tell me what I want to know?
Can it tell me where I need to go?
I wake up and I see you there
Sleeping without a care
Wouldn't you love to know what I do?
Even if you hate me, I'll always love you
So cold, your lips on mine
So tired, wasting my time
Blood stains my fingertips now
Makes me wonder why and how
I remember being so sad
Shooting the gun that my father had
Don't you see? Everything in me is dead
Yet somehow, my blood runs red
Like yours…?
Am I alive…?
Why didn't I die…?
I should be dead
I shot me dead
Why aren't I dead…?
Guess it's 'cause my blood runs red
Sasuke smirked slightly, kindly almost, when he finished reading the poem. He has talent, he thought. So why does he always act like an idiot?
FLASHBACK ((yes… the flashbacks because I don't know what else to write so I shall torture you all with irrelevant pass actions. MWA HAA HAA))
At the age of eleven, students were admitted into Konohagakure, the prestigious school of academics, but even more famous for its athletics and arts. Sasuke had always wanted to come here. This school was the place where people who were serious about studying their different subjects would be. He would have nice… peace… and quiet.
At his old school, Sasuke had been hounded by both girls and boys. He had hoped it would be different in his new school.
… it wasn't.
The first day of classes, Sasuke had stepped into a Creative Writing class, which was about half and half in each gender. He had arrived early, with only one other boy there: a blonde kid who was shorter than Sasuke and had innocent, round blue eyes. Sasuke's immediate reaction to seeing the boy was to stay far, far away, as his peers would be nothing but trouble.
The blonde boy, on the other hand, was friendly. He walked over to Sasuke.
"Hi, I'm Uzumaki Naruto," he said with a wide grin on his tanned face. "What's your name?"
Sasuke didn't answer right away. He seemed to be contemplating what he should do. His face was expressionless. His voice was cold when he spoke. "Get away from me, I don't want to talk to the likes of you!" he snapped, icily.
The blonde looked hurt, almost as though he were betrayed, although they had never met. Sasuke just liked to be left alone, not wanting to be bothered by other people. The response he had given Naruto's kindness was a conditioned response, normally reserved for fangirls (and fanboys, because we all know they exist!), however Sasuke had used it on a person who was actually being nice to him. Sasuke growled in his head. The only person that had ever truly been nice to him was his mother and she had died of leukemia two months before. So now Sasuke felt that he was basically alone.
He looked at the blonde, who had since wondered off. His eyes still blank, mouth still smiling. Sasuke wondered how the hell Naruto could smile like that, when it was obvious he wanted to frown.
It annoyed Sasuke for some reason. He didn't know why. He knew nothing about this boy, but already, it annoyed him.
The rest of the class filed in. Then the teacher, Jiraiya-sensei, asked them their names. When he got to Naruto, the blonde jumped onto his desk, sticking his fist in the air.
"UZUMAKI NARUTO!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Since they were also required to say something about themselves, Naruto continued. "I love Ramen… I hate the three minutes it takes to make ramen… I love miso ramen the best… but I also like chicken ramen a lot too."
Sasuke, as well as the rest of the class, stared, open-mouthed at Naruto. Jiraiya, at the front, just smirked to himself and muttered, "Interesting guy," although only a few people heard it. Sasuke was one of those people.
When it was finally Sasuke's turn, he glared at the class and said, "Uchiha Sasuke." He was silent after that.
"Do you have any likes or dislikes?" Jiraiya prodded.
"No."
"Then why are you here."
"Because I am."
"You're rebellious, aren't you?"
"Hn."
It wasn't that Sasuke was rebellious. It was more that he was just quiet. He didn't like people and he wished they didn't like him. Unfortunately, it was usually the opposite.
END FLASHBACK
Sasuke looked at the drawing and poem one more time before heading back to his dorm. His dormmate, Shikamaru, looked up as he entered but, aside from that, didn't do anything but turn back to the small TV the two boys shared. Sasuke took a look at what Shikamaru was watching. It didn't look too good. Going over to his bed, he dropped his bookbag and flopped onto the soft mattress.
Shikamaru just looked at him, turning down the volume. Sasuke was soon fast asleep.
Okay, minna-san! What did you think of that for the second chapter? How'd you like the poem? Bah… its not really a poem, but lyrics to a song I'm writing. I'm still working out the tabs on my guitar. I really need an electric guitar. This song just doesn't fit acoustics very well. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. The song is called "Is it Mine?" and I'll copyright it Monkeypox Mafia, because that's my band.
Love ya all!
Kyuubi-chan
Claimer: All the Songs/Poems you will find in the chapters ARE MINE! NO TOUCHIES!!! NO! bah…
Pairings: SasuNaru… do you really expect something different from me? Come on…
Summary: Uzumaki Naruto is a poet. Uchiha Sasuke is an artist. When both of them are forced to work on an English project together, they realize something about themselves and the misgivings of others.
I Bleed Black
Chapter Two
Naruto heard the bell ring for the class. He made his way out of the room as quickly as he could. Absentminded as he was, he forgot his sketchbook (which also held a great number of his poems to accompany the drawings) behind in Sasuke's possession.
Naruto, embarrassed by all the stares he had been getting during Lit, ran as quickly as he could towards his dorm room. His roommate looked at him strangely as he came in and slammed the door behind him, leaning against it.
Kyubi was an upperclassman, a year ahead of Naruto, but they still had been sharing the same dormroom for what seemed like ages.
"Anything wrong, Naruto?" Kyubi asked, looking up from his computer as the boy rushed in.
"I hate my classmates!" Naruto grumbled.
"Come on, don't you ever get tired of saying that?" the blonde's roommate asked. "You've been saying that everyday since you started coming to Konohagakure."
"Gomen…" Naruto muttered.
"It's okay, Naru-chan," Kyubi smiled. "I was being sarcastic." He paused, saving the document he was writing on his computer. "Now, what happened today?"
Naruto sighed, flinging his bookbag on the ground near his desk. He idly sat on his desk for a moment before answering. "We got assigned a partner project in Lit today, and since it was part of our Art class too… we were told to draw our partner in how we saw them." The blonde paused. Kyubi was like a big brother to him, but Naruto wasn't really sure why he was so afraid of the scene that he had witnessed back in class. "Do you know Uchiha Sasuke?"
Kyubi thought for a second, before nodded. "I had to tutor him last year in math. Expressionless kid, isn't he?"
"That's the thing. When he saw what I drew, he just began laughing, hysterically! It was really freaky," Naruto mumbled. He looked at his computer, checking his email. One new email. It was from an unknown person. Opening it, he began to shake with anger as he read.
I don't understand why a fucking loser like you was paired up with Sasuke. You don't deserve to be anywhere near him. NO ONE LIKES YOU, YOU FUCKING FREAK. Take my advice, Uzumaki, and stay away from Sasuke. If you go near him again, the consequences will be… painful. Don't think this is a joke. I'm serious. You will fucking die if you go near Sasuke again.
"Fucking assholes!" Naruto murmured to himself, deleting the email. "I'm sick of getting these emails!"
Kyubi leaned back in his chair, looking over at Naruto. "You got another threatening letter?" he asked.
Naruto nodded.
"Jeez, some people are just so bothersome," Kyubi grumbled. He grinned before continuing. "Hey, Naru-chan, you want me to kill 'em in writing for you. I do it very well."
Naruto grinned, feeling his mood lightening already. Kyubi was a writer, much like Naruto. Instead of poetry, however, he was best at short stories. Most of his short stories were gory, but Kyubi found that the gore gave him a release. His fictional enemies were always modeled after his real life ones. Although he wasn't the type to hurt anyone, unless given proper reasoning, one wouldn't know that from his writing.
Meanwhile, Sasuke was sitting at the oak tree he had first talked to Naruto at. He looked at the sketchbook that Naruto had left behind, staring at one of the pictures. It showed a teenage boy (who bore a lot of resemblance to Naruto himself) with a hole in his chest, blood seeping from that how. In the boy's hand was a gun. The walls around him were splattered in the red substance as well.
In messy handwriting, the boy had written a poem next to it. Sasuke grinned at he read it. Not because it was a very "happy" poem, but because he liked Naruto's poetry. He noticed that this poem, like the other, was simply untitled.
I don't have a history
My past is some old mystery
I don't know what happened before
Do I really care anymore?
Can't I be someone other than me?
Someone you haven't made me out to be
You've called me bitch, called me whore
I got my gun and I'm knocking at your door
And I put my gun up to my chest
One shot – its over – I can get some rest
Dropping blood… stains the walls…
Is it mine…?
Can it tell me all that I wanna know?
Can it show me where I need to go?
Yeah, you stare at me in disbelief
Call 9-1-1 and wish for relief
I laugh, choke, and spit blood from my throat
Letting it stain my treasured trenchcoat
Each and everyday is too much for me
So I'll cry, I'll die, isn't this what you wanted to see?
Stop your shrieks, this is what you told me to do
It's not suicide when the murderer's you
The pain is building behind my eyes
Will it take me off to Paradise?
Sirens scream and flashing lights
Interrupt the silence of the night
I'll go and never return
Leaving you with a lesson unlearned
And I'll sing:
Dropping blood… stains the walls…
Is it mine…?
Can it tell me all that I wanna know?
Can it show me where I need to go?
I walk down Heaven's way
Just like I did back in the day
That was before I knew
How much of me was in you
You swear you hate my soul
Saying I was cold – saying I was coal
Each day and all day
I go down the path but I don't pray
God kicked me out of Heaven and said
I'd wake up in a hospital bed
I was singing:
Dropping blood… stains the walls…
Is it mine…?
Can it tell me what I want to know?
Can it tell me where I need to go?
I wake up and I see you there
Sleeping without a care
Wouldn't you love to know what I do?
Even if you hate me, I'll always love you
So cold, your lips on mine
So tired, wasting my time
Blood stains my fingertips now
Makes me wonder why and how
I remember being so sad
Shooting the gun that my father had
Don't you see? Everything in me is dead
Yet somehow, my blood runs red
Like yours…?
Am I alive…?
Why didn't I die…?
I should be dead
I shot me dead
Why aren't I dead…?
Guess it's 'cause my blood runs red
Sasuke smirked slightly, kindly almost, when he finished reading the poem. He has talent, he thought. So why does he always act like an idiot?
FLASHBACK ((yes… the flashbacks because I don't know what else to write so I shall torture you all with irrelevant pass actions. MWA HAA HAA))
At the age of eleven, students were admitted into Konohagakure, the prestigious school of academics, but even more famous for its athletics and arts. Sasuke had always wanted to come here. This school was the place where people who were serious about studying their different subjects would be. He would have nice… peace… and quiet.
At his old school, Sasuke had been hounded by both girls and boys. He had hoped it would be different in his new school.
… it wasn't.
The first day of classes, Sasuke had stepped into a Creative Writing class, which was about half and half in each gender. He had arrived early, with only one other boy there: a blonde kid who was shorter than Sasuke and had innocent, round blue eyes. Sasuke's immediate reaction to seeing the boy was to stay far, far away, as his peers would be nothing but trouble.
The blonde boy, on the other hand, was friendly. He walked over to Sasuke.
"Hi, I'm Uzumaki Naruto," he said with a wide grin on his tanned face. "What's your name?"
Sasuke didn't answer right away. He seemed to be contemplating what he should do. His face was expressionless. His voice was cold when he spoke. "Get away from me, I don't want to talk to the likes of you!" he snapped, icily.
The blonde looked hurt, almost as though he were betrayed, although they had never met. Sasuke just liked to be left alone, not wanting to be bothered by other people. The response he had given Naruto's kindness was a conditioned response, normally reserved for fangirls (and fanboys, because we all know they exist!), however Sasuke had used it on a person who was actually being nice to him. Sasuke growled in his head. The only person that had ever truly been nice to him was his mother and she had died of leukemia two months before. So now Sasuke felt that he was basically alone.
He looked at the blonde, who had since wondered off. His eyes still blank, mouth still smiling. Sasuke wondered how the hell Naruto could smile like that, when it was obvious he wanted to frown.
It annoyed Sasuke for some reason. He didn't know why. He knew nothing about this boy, but already, it annoyed him.
The rest of the class filed in. Then the teacher, Jiraiya-sensei, asked them their names. When he got to Naruto, the blonde jumped onto his desk, sticking his fist in the air.
"UZUMAKI NARUTO!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Since they were also required to say something about themselves, Naruto continued. "I love Ramen… I hate the three minutes it takes to make ramen… I love miso ramen the best… but I also like chicken ramen a lot too."
Sasuke, as well as the rest of the class, stared, open-mouthed at Naruto. Jiraiya, at the front, just smirked to himself and muttered, "Interesting guy," although only a few people heard it. Sasuke was one of those people.
When it was finally Sasuke's turn, he glared at the class and said, "Uchiha Sasuke." He was silent after that.
"Do you have any likes or dislikes?" Jiraiya prodded.
"No."
"Then why are you here."
"Because I am."
"You're rebellious, aren't you?"
"Hn."
It wasn't that Sasuke was rebellious. It was more that he was just quiet. He didn't like people and he wished they didn't like him. Unfortunately, it was usually the opposite.
END FLASHBACK
Sasuke looked at the drawing and poem one more time before heading back to his dorm. His dormmate, Shikamaru, looked up as he entered but, aside from that, didn't do anything but turn back to the small TV the two boys shared. Sasuke took a look at what Shikamaru was watching. It didn't look too good. Going over to his bed, he dropped his bookbag and flopped onto the soft mattress.
Shikamaru just looked at him, turning down the volume. Sasuke was soon fast asleep.
Okay, minna-san! What did you think of that for the second chapter? How'd you like the poem? Bah… its not really a poem, but lyrics to a song I'm writing. I'm still working out the tabs on my guitar. I really need an electric guitar. This song just doesn't fit acoustics very well. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. The song is called "Is it Mine?" and I'll copyright it Monkeypox Mafia, because that's my band.
Love ya all!
Kyuubi-chan