ALRIGHT! CHAPTER TWO! This chapter's song is by Limp Bizkit (No one knows who that is… XD) Behind Blue Eyes is the title of the song, and it is strangely composed, but it seems to fit the over all plot in my head...(I type this before I actually type the chapter, so editing is needed.) I know all the words by heart, so no worries about incorrect lyrics this time! ;P (Most likely)

I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did while typing it (as the blood circulation to my ass depletes!!) TMI, but I like doing random shit, so ENJOY!!! x3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------No one knows what its like to be hated

To be faded

To telling lonely lies

"Wow." That was all I could really say. I looked back up at Sasuke then back at his schedule.

"Hm?" He looked at me blankly for a second before taking two steps closer to me looking at the paper in my hand with contained confusion.

"You have all the same classes as me," I said softly. That was a strange occurrence, to be sure. The only other person with nearly enough of the same interchanging periods as me in either semester was Sakura Haruno, an up beat girl that slightly irked my nerves, what with her outrageous pink hair-dye and all. No person should be that damn…colorful.

Sasuke chuckled once. Or something that could almost pass as a chuckle. More like a cough of amusement. This guy really didn't know how to show emotion and it was starting to get a little creepy. And why show emotion now? This guy was an enigma I half wanted to solve, half wanted to kick in a closet and forget. But that's not my point.

I cleared my throat when I noticed just how close he was to me. Not only did he creep me out, but he gave off an almost dark aura. Just a feeling that traveled up my spine that told me his eyes were boring into me while I pretended to still be looking at the kanji on the page that I was no longer seeing. It made me want to scream…and I had no idea why. But I absolutely refused to let him see that in my expression, so I threw on my most nonchalant face and shrugged.

"Right. So, uh…I guess you can just wander for the rest of this block and lunch if you've got a bento, then meet me in front of this window and you can follow me to third." I said all this in one breath, rushing as I shoved the paper into his chest. For some strange reason my face was red. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, but I was repudiating to admit that it was because he was at such a close proximity. I looked up to see a smirk on his face as those ebony eyes regarded me.

I backed up quickly, turning on my heel and walking in the direction of the doors that led to the staircase that would take me to the roof, I left him standing there.

Why did I get this gut feeling that he understood something? There was something too damn knowing in that smirk.

No one knows what its like to feel these feelings

Like I do

And I blame you!

And no one bites back as hard

On their anger

None of my pained will can show through

I slammed the door behind me, ducking into my corner that over looked the many trees on the school grounds and the bustling road that came with Shibuya. I pulled out my sketch book, but found that I was still shaken by his eyes. Why did those eyes look so fucking familiar?!

No one knows what its like to be mistreated

To be defeated

Behind blue eyes

I pulled up my uniform sleeve tearing off the bandages from last night and stared at my festering cuts. Blood had fought its way through and crusted the thin but deep incisions. And I finally allowed myself a shiver. I was scared to acknowledge it, even to myself.

And no one knows how to say

That they're sorry

And don't worry

I'm not telling lies

But my dreams

They aren't as empty

As my conscious seems to be

I have hours…

Only lonely

My love is vengeance

That's never free

Those were my eyes.

Behind blue eyes

I thought only I could hold that look of blank sorrow. I clenched my fist, watching the severed skin stick up in protest against the strain. I had the strong urge to cry. But I swore something to myself at that moment. I would never let anyone see those dead eyes. Not from me.

"That's not healthy."

My head snapped up to meet the very thing I wanted to do away with. "I said you could wander, not stalk me to the roof!" I was pissed off that he'd come up here. Not only that but he was wearing that smirk again.

"And?" His tone dared me to challenge him. Well, that was an improvement. So I decided to test him.

"You Americans' are as arrogant as they say, huh? Thinking you can just waltz into another country and do whatever the hell you want. That doesn't fly here in Japan. You'll get your ass beat." I had looked away, smirking at my wrist, which had started to bleed again. Fantastic.

"You Germans' think you can just boss whoever you want around, just because you believe you're 'superior'. That doesn't fly anywhere. You'll get your ass shot." My entire body turned in his direction as I squinted against the sun that seemed to be perched on his shoulder as he leered down at me. I hadn't been expecting that.

And I couldn't help but smile.

"Alright smartass, you got me," I laughed. I turned back to my wrist, which had started stinging in the exposed air, so I grabbed the bandages and reapplied them as he stood watching. And thus followed the ever awkward silence. I checked my watch and seeing that there was still half an hour left of second, grabbed my sketch book again.

"You draw?" he asked as I pulled a mechanical pencil from my bag. No shit, Sherlock.

"Mm hm." I didn't say anything else as I started to draw manga aimlessly. I heard a grunt beside me as he sat down.

"You're good," he said softly, watching as I lazily dragged my pencil across the paper. I couldn't suppress the grin that spread across my face as I began doing five-second chibi doodles in the corner.

"Whose that?" Sasuke asked, pointing to the fox boy with whiskers that I had drawn lazily snoozing against the edge of the page.

"Me," I said nonchalantly, beginning another random doodle of a cat.

"I could never draw anime well," he said in a placid tone. I looked at him, slightly puzzled.

"You know about anime?" I asked. He didn't look the type at all despite his Japanese heritage.

"Yeah. It's actually pretty popular in California. I always did like Inuyasha. And there was Hellsing. But I can't draw worth a shit…"

I couldn't help but laugh at that. Not one of my forced, 'let-them-think-I-actually-care-what-goes-on-outside-my-personal-bubble' laughs, but a genuine laugh. He looked at me blankly, but those eyes showed some form of emotion. A spark that showed I had struck a nerve, whether good or bad.

"At least you admit it!" I gasped. The bell rang with that and I started laughing even harder at his slightly put off expression. "Oh Jesus, w…wipe that look off your face!! You look like I just took your candy or something!" I grinned widely at him as I watched those eyes flicker. It was amusement that I saw.

His mouth pulled into an awkward grin as I put my sketch book away, still smiling. Maybe the non-lingual asshole wasn't so bad after all.

"Sasuke-san, do you have a bento," I asked as I stood up, swinging my bag over my shoulder. He just had a 'what the hell is a bento?' look on his face. And I was laughing again.

I felt light. Honestly, how can a guy I've known for an hour and a half trigger such a reaction? I had to admit, Sasuke was one mystery after another.

"Man, we have got a lot of work to do with you."

---

My dad's car wasn't in the drive way when I got home that afternoon. Neither was Gaara's, which wasn't a shock since he had an apartment in the much busier part of the city. Hopefully, my mother was sleeping and I could grab some food and sneak up to my room without encountering her. I was happier than I'd been in weeks and I for it to stay that way.

I opened the door quietly to hear one of my CD's playing, which meant only one thing. Forget food and get upstairs, lock my door and wait for the storm to blow over. I hurriedly closed the door, locked it just to be safe, and began dashing up the stairs.

"Naruto, sweetie, is that you? Come in here and dance with Mommy!" I groaned miserably, praying my approaching excuse would busy her enough to let me slip out. "You know how I like to stay up to date with you and your brother's hobbies!! And you like to go to these rock concerts and dance," she laughed airily, making me quirk an eyebrow. I can't dance worth a crap and she so knew that. Damn, she had to be even more smashed than usual or she was popping pills again.

"Mom, I'm tired and I feel sick. I'm going to get an aspirin and go to bed instead, okay? I'll…dance with you tomorrow," I said from the middle of the stairs.

"NO! Naruto, come here!" she whined, walking out of the living room with a bottle of imported Russian vodka in hand. As usual, she was amazingly steady on her feet despite being completely wasted. "Your Daddy and big brother left me again!! You're the only one who will come home to Mommy!" There were tears shining in her green eyes as she looked at me with a quivering lip. "Your Daddy has been talking to other woman again and your brother hasn't talked to me in weeks!! He just stays locked up in his room playing his videogames and ignoring me! And your Daddy won't let me go to Paris!"

Situation: My thirty-six year old mother was drinking heavily, crying about being abandoned by her cheating spouse and first born child. She thought we were still in Germany, at home, and she was looking at me like a kicked puppy.

Conclusion: She was having a memory lapse, thinking that I was that stupid seven-year-old again who couldn't see through her obvious attention seeking lies. My brother had called her last night to invite us to dinner. He called every night to let us know how his day had gone. My Father's frequent phone calls were to his secretary and other employees, which almost every one of them are males. And I refused to give in to her pity fest. She was the cheating spouse, the one who wouldn't talk to Gaara unless he bought her gifts and expensive things that she wanted, particularly overly pricey liquor.

"Mom, I'm not in the mood," I said in a low voice, not meeting her gaze.

"Naruto! Don't you dare back talk me! Now get down here, NOW!" Hanging my head, I dropped my bag on the stair and slowly walked down the stairs to stand in front of her, glaring. Her red hair that was normally pulled into a neat pony tail or bun, always done in some elegant way, was in a fly-away mess, her make-up coming off, making her look pitiful. I hated seeing her in this state.

"I'm here," I said through clenched teeth. She smiled sweetly, hugging me. She buried her nose into my hair, sniffling as she squeezed me tightly to her chest.

"Only you love me. Your Daddy and older brother hate me, but you, my little boy, you love me," she said in slurred German. If she only knew how twisted she had her thoughts right now. I remained silent as I scrunched my nose against the sting of strong alcohol in my nose. She'd been drunk for a while. "You love your Mommy, right baby?" I refused to say anything. I had been taught at an early age not to lie, and I spitefully didn't want to be honest now.

"Naruto? You do love me…right?" She had pulled back from me, setting the almost empty bottle of vodka on the hall table. I still didn't say anything as I stared at the Persian rug underneath my feet in distaste. Unnecessary, expensive, showy…and I hated all of it. It was all a sham to me.

A sharp stinging pain in my cheek pulled me from my thoughts as I suddenly hit the floor. She didn't look it, but the woman had a strong arm.

"You. Will answer me. When I. Ask you. A question!!" Her chest was heaving as I rubbed my cheek, glowering at her without saying a word. Her foot made contact with my chest, sending me sprawling again. I clutched what felt horribly like a cracked rib, gasping for air. She grabbed a fistful of my spiky hair pulling me up into an uncomfortable sitting position, breathing in my face, her red hair flying in her face.

"M...Mamutou*!! I'm…ah…sorry!!" I howled, face creased in pain. She let me go, grabbed her bottle and went to turn up the music louder. I got up and climbed the stairs as fast as I could without crying out in pain, grabbing my bag as I went. I locked my door before I screamed in pain, anger, and the understanding that my family had finally met its breaking point.

In the clouds

Or the grave

I'll stay if you go away

Concrete

Tall as the sky

Movement passing me by

When you blush

What a rush

A reminisce

Cold crush

Next door

Ear to the wall

All the tension made for the call

I wish, I wish

I wish it was

All that easy

~Just put an end to it all…please.~

*"Mamutou"(ma-moo-too), which I bet you a million dollars is spelled wrong (and my grandmother would slap me for it too) is "Mother" in Polish. It is NOT the proper pronunciation or even word, but I've pronounced it that way since I was five and never bothered to correct my pronunciation as I got older, to my step-father's amusement and annoyance. (He is "Tata" which is obviously the word for "Father" in Poland. No joke! That one's correct!!) "Mama" is plenty common, but when I'm pissed off at her and she starts yelling at me in German and Polish, I call her that and then argue back in Polish since I understand that language a little better. I'm not Polish, but growing up in a house with three Polish speaking adults, you practically become Polish.

I don't own Inuyasha or Hellsing. Actually, I don't even know what Hellsing is. An ex-boyfriend of mine told me about it but it went in one ear and out the other, since I was happily reading yaoi.

This is actually how me and the closest person to me met. (Okay, we were in America, and there was no racial slang, and it wasn't a school and he was black, not Japanese. XP And I'm not just German. I'm also Irish and French.) And this was the exact impression I had of him too, to be honest. HE WAS CREEPY!!! DX That is, until that fateful day he asked for manga drawing lessons. O_O He never did get those lessons either… :P SHUT UP!! I'M LAZY!!!!

But love comes to a hopeless person in strange ways.

And the graphic domestic violence was actually a final whim (and sad attempt for personal therapy… Ox.) Guess there's another reason for this to be rated mature.