Being Dead
Part Two: Echo
What Sasuke hadn't told Naruto was this: He'd been haunted before.
The ghost had been his brother.
Today was his last day at the restaurant. He'd applied for, and gotten, a job at a local company. Officially, he was an assistant. Unofficially, Sasuke saw endless data entries and errands in his future.
Sasuke went through his closing tasks carefully and meticulously. He would never come back here again. It felt... good.
"We should go out and celebrate," Sakura said. "There's a new bar on the ground floor."
Sasuke put up the last chair.
"Or you could just go home," Sakura conceded, "and brood." She put the dispensers away. "Have you opened that box yet?"
"Aren't your friends waiting?" Sasuke said. He pulled the door open.
It slid shut with a slam. "That's a no, then," Sakura said, to an empty table.
xxx
Sasuke kept the box in the living room, next to a cutting blade. He didn't watch TV much anymore.
"I wore that garish uniform for the last time today," he told the box, and then felt ridiculous.
The months had given it a light coat of dust. Sasuke sat on the couch and stared at it. He wondered what was inside almost as much as he wondered why Naruto had disappeared.
Sasuke gave in. He fetched a rag from the kitchen, to wipe away the dust on the box. If he was going to talk to it, he should keep it clean.
"Was it my fault you left?" Sasuke asked.
No answer, but he was used to that. He ran a finger down the blade, then brought it up. It slid easily through the layers of tape. The lids popped up; through the crack, Sasuke saw a glimpse of orange.
Naruto's favorite color.
He felt suddenly sick. "Shit," he said, and pushed the lid shut with his palm.
The doorbell rang. Sasuke dropped the blade, and then winced.
He got up. Sakura was at the door.
"I brought--you're bleeding."
Sasuke glanced at his thumb. "An accident," he said.
He crossed his arms. Sakura swung the plastic bag. Sasuke uncrossed his arms. Sakura sighed.
"Thanks for letting me in," she said, and shoved her way past. Inexplicably, Sasuke found himself holding the plastic bag.
"Don't just invite yourself in like that," Sasuke said, but she was already gone from the kitchen. He closed the front door.
There were containers of chicken and rice in the bag. Sasuke set the food out on plates.
"You opened it."
Sakura stood at the doorway. She looked proud, or maybe like she was about to cry.
Sasuke said, "I didn't look inside," and set the timer on the microwave.
"Can I, then?" she asked.
"No," he said.
"Then," she said, "I won't until you do. So you better hurry up."
She hit him lightly with her arm on the way out.
"You aren't staying?" he asked.
"No." She turned to look back at him, with only one of her shoes on. "Listen, Sasuke, I've always liked you, but... I can't do this." She knelt down to put on her other shoe. Her pink hair covered her face. "I'm meeting with Lee right now."
She straightened, and smiled at him. "I know you'd never call me if you needed me, so I'll come by once in a while to make sure you're eating. See you."
The microwave beeped. "See you," Sasuke said, and watched her leave.
xxx
xxx
On Monday, Sasuke walked into the living room. He looked at the lid; it was raised higher than he remembered. Sakura had lied. She'd opened it.
He dropped the damp towel and sat down in front of the box. There was definitely something orange inside. He touched the cardboard and, slowly, lifted--
"That took you a while, man."
Sasuke froze. He didn't turn around. He didn't dare turn around.
To the box, he said, "You came back."
"I've been here all along, actually."
Sasuke's fingers trembled. He stared down at the contents, but his mind's eye saw only Naruto.
"You really came back," he breathed.
Warm fingers touched his shoulder. Sasuke felt the weight and the heat, and an itchiness in his eyes.
He turned around--
--and woke up.
Streetlight leaked into the room, casting blurred shadows. He heard cars, the near-silent movement of the curtains.
He reached for the blanket. By the time he closed his eyes again, he'd already forgotten the dream.
xxx
xxx
Something else Sasuke hadn't told Naruto: The day they met, Itachi stopped haunting him.
Sasuke woke up. It was a Monday, and it was his first day of work.
Sasuke dressed slowly, in muted colors. His tie was dark blue. The morning breeze ruffled his hair: he hadn't yet gotten into the habit of closing his windows.
It had been sixty-eight days since--
Since.
Sasuke left without looking at the box in the living room. He took a taxi to work.
It was on the ninth floor of a glass-walled high-rise. A tired-looking man in an oversized suit greeted him, saying, "Shikamaru Nara."
Sasuke was blank. He grasped the man's hand and realized: Ah. That was his name. "Sasuke Uchiha," he said.
Nara squinted, or maybe that was his usual expression. "Aren't you that--nevermind. Not my business. This way."
Sasuke looked around. He remembered visiting his father at work; this place was uncomfortably similar. Naruto would have hated it. He'd have made fun of Sasuke's tie, too.
As he watched, an older man walked in, his face suggesting deep vexation with life in general. His left hand glinted; married, then. Sasuke wondered if that was him in ten, twenty years.
Behind the man was someone younger, with long, black hair and cold eyes--
No.
No. No fucking way--
"Oi."
Sasuke whirled around. Nara stared. "Er, are you alright?"
"I--" Sasuke looked back. He saw only the older man, putting his briefcase down as if it contained all his life's troubles. "I'm fine."
"Why don't we get you coffee first," Nara said.
"I'm fine," Sasuke insisted.
"No, coffee," Nara said.
Sasuke hesitated. He looked back at the door again: nothing but negative space defined by three lines and the floor.
"Fine," he said.
xxx
xxx
Another dream:
Sasuke was moving. Packing was tedious.
He reached for the tape, running through his mental to-do list. The dishes would have to be protected. They'd bring the TV in the back of the car.
His fiancee, girlfriend, wife entered the room. "What should I do with this?"
Sasuke grunted. The scissors were dull.
"Sasuke?"
"Whatever," Sasuke said. He looked up at Misa (or Mitsuko, or Miyuki), and--
"Put that down."
She stared at him, baffled. "Put what down?"
The long years had given the box trailing cobwebs, and dust that turned Ayaka, Ayumi, Yumiko's fingers black. The angle was impossible, but Sasuke thought he saw orange.
"Put it down," he said, again.
Tomoko--Takako--said, "But it's been years, Sasuke. You should let go." Saori smiled dreamily at him. She dropped the box.
Sasuke caught it. He awoke with his hands outstretched, a woman's voice leaving mild echoes in his ears.
He slid out of bed to close the window. The sky was dull and gray-blue. There were no stars. And, at the corner of the street, was a darkened figure.
Sasuke drew the curtains shut. His lips were dry, and his heart beat a too-fast rhythm against his chest.
xxx
xxx
Sasuke woke up an hour early and walked to the newspaper stall before work.
His steps slowed when he reached the street corner, and then stopped. Sasuke tightened his grip on the coins in his hand. He studied Itachi dispassionately. His brother was still thirteen. His eyes were glassy, like ice.
"You're back," Sasuke said.
He bought his newspaper with money slick with sweat. When he walked back, he saw that his brother had disappeared.
Sasuke read the newspaper on the way to work. There had been another shooting; a scandal involving Hyuuga Industries; the highway tolls might be nationalized. Sasuke went through each article carefully, until his breathing evened out and his hands stopped shaking.
xxx
It got easier. Somehow, it got easier. Before Naruto, he'd been resigned to a lifetime of Itachi. He simply had to recall and hold on to that resignation.
His brother was, at least, a completely silent ghost. But he had a presence that Naruto had never achieved, in life or death.
Sasuke sat at his desk. Itachi hadn't found his way upstairs yet. He took advantage of that time to play at organizing the forms Nara had given him. Nara was a terrible boss.
A mug of coffee was put in front of him. Ino's smile was charming.
"Shikamaru not in yet?"
"No," Sasuke said. He tried not to encourage Ino. It didn't work.
"How about lunch together?" she said. "You really look like you should eat more. My treat."
Sasuke closed the file. The temperature dropped steadily.
Itachi was coming.
Sasuke stood. "I'm eating lunch with Sakura," he told her. It was a convenient excuse. He picked up his bag with suddenly stiff fingers and tried not to look around the office.
"I'm coming too," Ino said. Sasuke didn't answer; she took it as agreement. She was cheerful and chatty, and didn't find his silence strange. Her heels clicked smartly against the tiles.
Sakura was already at the cafe they'd agreed to meet at. She stood and pulled the corners of her lips apart when she saw Ino. It wasn't a smile.
Sasuke ordered coffee--black, no sugar--while they acquainted themselves.
He might have been resigned to a lifetime of Itachi, but he'd been quick to learn that changing locations gave him time while his brother caught up.
It was just that sometimes, running wasn't an option.
"I'll pay for your lunch, Sasuke," Ino said. She sat down.
"No," Sakura said. "It's no trouble."
Sasuke looked at Ino. He looked at Sakura. Maybe he shouldn't have let them meet. "I'll pay," he said.
"It's fine, Sasuke," Ino said.
"Absolutely not," Sakura said.
Sasuke drank his coffee, and treasured the warmth that settled inside him. It would help against the cold.
xxx
xxx
Not a dream, but a memory:
Lunch--not with Sakura, and not with Ino. It was warm. For Sasuke, it was warmer than it'd been in ages.
He downed his drink. Water, not coffee. The ramen tasted terrible. Sasuke couldn't understand the obsession. He also didn't understand the warmth.
Why wasn't it cold? It had been a full hour. His brother had never taken so long before.
"You eating that?"
"No," Sasuke said, and watched the person before him with quizzical eyes. He wondered, "Who are you?"
No answer. Ramen seemed higher on the priority list than answering inane questions. Sasuke pulled his drink closer and studied the person opposite him through the distortions of glass and water.
"By the way, I didn't bring any money," said Naruto Uzumaki, who had blond hair, and blue eyes, and an easy smile.
Where was Itachi?
Slowly, Sasuke shook his head. "I'll pay," he said. He pulled out his wallet and opened his eyes. He saw his bedroom ceiling. It was fucking freezing.
"You're still here," he said.
Itachi didn't answer, of course. He never answered Sasuke's questions.
Sasuke got up from the bed. He gathered the covers in numb hands and walked towards the living room, where that box full of Naruto's belongings was. The floor was hard, and the covers didn't help.
He closed his eyes again, and didn't fall asleep. But he felt a bit better.
xxx
xxx
"You know, you always look sick," Nara said.
Sasuke was doing his work for him again. He kept his eyes in front of him.
"You always sleep," Sasuke said.
"You should sleep more," Nara answered.
Sasuke closed the file. "You should do your job. Here." He slid the documents over. "For the meeting. Give me a raise," he added.
Nara looked through the papers. "Where's Chouji?" he asked.
Sasuke frowned. "At his desk."
"Ino?"
"Waiting for me to return to mine," Sasuke said.
Nara looked thoughtful. "You always know exactly where everyone is," he said. "But you never look around. You're scared to."
Sasuke stiffened.
Nara didn't push him further. He said, "I'll see about that raise."
Sasuke didn't reply. Anyway, Nara was right. He knew exactly where everyone was: Chouji was at his desk, Ino at Sasuke's, and Itachi was by the door: too still, too dark, and too silent.
Sasuke wrapped his arms around himself. Even though the air-conditioner wasn't working, the room was too cold.
And suddenly, he didn't want to deal with it anymore. He didn't want to deal with Itachi anymore.
"I'm leaving early today," he announced. "Go to your damn meeting, Nara."
"Fine." Nara stood as well. "That fits you better," he added.
"What?" Sasuke said.
"Anger," Nara said. "It fits you better."
Sasuke almost smiled. He packed up his things.
xxx
Itachi beat him home. It was punishment, maybe.
Sasuke stood at the bottom of the stairs. When he looked up, the angle made him see the Itachi from his memories: taller, older, wiser.
Sasuke walked up the steps. At the landing, he found himself standing next to a child.
"What was it about Naruto," he said, "that kept you away?"
Sasuke heard a distant car alarm; two cats hissing each other into submission; the creak of metal as a neighbor headed home. Itachi was silent.
Sasuke reached forward. He'd never touched Itachi before.
His fingers met against sliding, liquid cold, like mud and water against skin. Sasuke had always wondered how Itachi died. Maybe this was his answer.
Itachi was looking at him, and his gaze was perfectly aware. Sasuke had forgotten how dark those eyes were, how utterly black.
Sasuke didn't run, and he wasn't scared of those eyes. But he stepped away, and fumbled with the lock until he could reach that shelter of illusion provided by his home. Then he stopped.
He'd never dared to touch (to acknowledge) Itachi before, and Itachi had never looked at him before. Both these facts seemed insignificant when he looked at the box, and the lids that were neither open nor closed.
Why hadn't he looked inside?
Because nothing might happen. And if he left it closed, nothing would happen, too, but opening it was more terrifying.
Slowly, he stepped forward and knelt before the box. When he looked back, he saw Itachi framed by the doorway.
Sasuke forced his eyes away.
Against his palms, the box wasn't cold. It wasn't warm, either. It smelled bad. Opening it probably wouldn't do anything.
Opening it might do something.
xxx
xxx
When Sasuke opened the door to find his older brother waiting for him, he wasn't sure how to feel.
The funeral had dragged on. Sasuke had been weighed down by an absurd mix of grief and boredom. But it was over, now. Or it was over, until Sasuke had walked to his brother's room--to his brother's old room--and cautiously slid the door open.
Itachi was silent, and cold. He looked wet.
Sasuke stood and stared for a long time, until the wrinkles set in his suit. He closed the door and turned around, and he walked away. It was the first time he ran from Itachi's ghost.
Later, he would learn that running didn't work.
What did work was--
xxx
xxx
It was odd being at the restaurant again. Sasuke touched his shirt, as if to remind himself he wasn't wearing that ugly uniform and never would again.
He almost said something ridiculous to Itachi, something like, "Wait here," but didn't. Years of habit made certain distances insurmountable.
The restaurant looked exactly the same. It even smelled the same. Sasuke's fingers tightened on the packet in his hand.
Sakura looked the same, too. The uniform still didn't fit her.
"What... Sasuke? What are you doing here?"
"To give you this." Sasuke indicated the packet. "When's your break?"
"In fifteen minutes. Do you want--"
"I'll wait," Sasuke said. Sakura smiled, weakly. Sasuke had never sought her out before. "Okay," she said.
Sasuke stepped back outside, and thought it wouldn't be so bad to come back here, once in a while.
Sakura was out in five minutes, zipping up a bright green jacket that wasn't hers. The envelope Sasuke gave her was brown and bulky. It wasn't sealed, and Sakura grabbed the photographs that slid out on reflex.
Sasuke said, "There's more. CDs. My old wallet." He hesitated. "That orange jacket he used to wear."
Sakura looked down, at two bright smiles and one sullen face.
"They're memories," she said.
Sasuke looked at Naruto's young smile. His lips twitched in response.
"What are you going to do with them?" she asked.
Sasuke shook his head. "Those are for you. I'm only keeping one."
Sakura pressed the photos against her chest, obscuring them under too-large sleeves. She looked peaceful.
xxx
xxx
Naruto had been bright, and warm, and alive, and meeting him had been traumatic.
Their entire grade had seen, and even now Sasuke could recall that chant: Sasuke and Naruto sitting in a tree--
Naruto always yelled back. Sasuke was smart enough not to. He should have been smart enough to stop fighting the idiot, too. But in those brief moments, Naruto had been his entire world.
"Not anymore," Naruto said, and Sasuke turned to see the somber, organized rows of chairs. He saw himself, seven years old, facing a crowd of people in formal suits. They had no faces.
He was holding Sakura's hand. Others--family associates, aunts and uncles--had called him brave. Sasuke thought his younger self looked lost.
He walked forward. Sakura moved aside for him, wearing an orange jacket that looked out of place. She smiled.
Naruto had taken his seat. His lips formed a single word, and he raised his hand and smiled.
Sasuke opened his mouth, and woke up.
He sat up. The temperature numbed his fingers and ears. He didn't look around.
He pressed his forehead to his knees and whispered, "You too. Goodbye," to his feet.
The cold faded, into a tropical warmth. It was enough of a reply that he almost smiled.
xxx
xxx
Sasuke opened the door.
Habit made him check the corners, the area behind him, but there was nothing to see. He pressed PLAY as he passed by the stereo, filling the apartment with music he wouldn't admit to liking.
He set the plastic bag on the table and pulled out the picture frame. He set it by the window, where the day would illuminate Naruto's grin.