Hey, Hi, Hello.

Welcome to chapter two of 'Believe In Me'. I hope you like it! This chapter's called Nausea. I tried to make it as long as the first chapter was but fell short about 100 words. Oh well! Song is 'The Day I Left The Womb' by Escape The Fate (when Ronnie was the singer)! This song relates well to the story, though some of it is in a more metaphorical way instead of literally.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Naruto; that honor belongs to Kishimoto-sama! I also do not own the song or Ronnie Radke (but damn I want to)!
WARNINGS: Cussing and a horrible mother.

Anything in bold is important or with emphasis.
This is what memories look like.
'This is what song lyrics look like.'

~BELIEVE~

'Brother, put your needles down.
The best thing for you
Is to leave this awful town.
Pretty soon, you'll
have kids to feed.
If you see mother,
tell her I can sing.'

~BELIEVE~

Seeing Sakon's bruised face makes me smile.

He's at school again the Friday before school ended before break, and in none of Konan's classes. Nor is he anywhere to be found during lunch. Thankfully, however, he was stuck with three other members of our little group, the Akatsuki, in Chemistry class. And every time I look over at him I can't help but want to laugh. He had a weird looking patch of gauze over his nose, but you could still see how ridiculously swollen it was. So that was the focus of my interest.

The teacher informs us the lecture was over for the day and we could just sit around and talk. I take this opportunity to completely turn my chair sideways, to provide for an optimal view of him. Next to me, there's Kisame, Kakuzu and Itachi. I don't pay much more than halfhearted interest in their conversation, preferring to look at the glorious profile view of that stuttering son-of-a-bitch's misshapen nose. I'm having great fun doing so- until Kisame asks me a question.

"So, Madara, why do you wear the mask?" Kisame's leaning back in his chair, obviously highly curious.

I turn slightly in my chair to better look at him. "Because," I answer simply. "I don't like my face." From the corner of my eye, I can see Sakon looking at me warily. I lift a hand and wave at him, at which point he jerks in his seat and faces forward again.

"Well why do you dislike your face?" Kisame asks, again. I roll my eyes at this. Didn't he realize I didn't want to answer?

"I look like someone. Now do we have to continue talking about this?" I ask, feeling a little bit annoyed. Yeah, yeah, they were my friends and deserved an explanation. But I didn't want to give it now, especially because I was basking in the glory of observing Sakon's fucked-up face. Was it so bad that I wanted to? Maybe it should have been but damn I wasn't gonna stop.

"We deserve an explaination," Itachi deadpans. What, could he somehow read minds? Apparently so. I blink in slight surprise before answering.

"Ah, fine, since I know none of you will drop the subject. We can all gather at the café after school and I'll explain. Okay? Only one more class," I reply, trying to placate them. It seems to satisfy them, enough so that they left me alone about it.

~BELIEVE~

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Those were the first words I heard as I woke up. The sounds of breaking glass and someone being shoved into a wall follow in rapid succession, and already I feel my chest tighten. So it was one of those days, I think, slipping out from under my bed covers and standing. At seven years old, I was pretty grown up. I slide slippers onto my feet and open my bedroom door, casting a glance to the bed my older brother used to sleep in. His name was Izuna and he moved out two years ago to live with our grandmother. I still really missed him, but I did get to talk to him on the phone and he sent cards during the holidays. I only had two brothers, both of them older than me.

Downstairs, my mother and oldest brother are fighting in the kitchen. Obito-nii was standing near the back door, an ice pack pressed to his face. It was swollen and bruised. My mother is standing across the room, a shard of a broken plate clutched in her hand. She's holding it threateningly, eyes ablaze with fury. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, filling me with dread. This was not going to go well.

"Nii-san? Kaa-san?" I ask, feeling unsure of myself. My mother wheels around to face me, the broken plate still clutched in her hand. She's gripping it tightly enough that it cut into her palm, blood leaking from her fist and dripping down her arm and onto the floor.

"Here's your little bitch brother," she spits out, hand poised threateningly. She steps forward as Obito does, but she reaches me first and knots her free hand through my hair, yanking me up. "Stupid fucking brat, I should cut that pretty hair of yours off!"

My hair was something I loved about myself, and it fell in spiky, feathery waves to the nape of my neck. I can feel tears building up in my eyes. "Don't fucking touch him," Obito says, eyes full of hate. They seemed to almost glow red with it, emanating and staring accusingly at my mother. "Touch him and you'll regret it."

My mother chuckles. "And what's making me stop...?" The shard is pressed to my head, near my face. If her hand slipped just the right way it would cut my face instead of just my hair.

Obito's voice shakes. "If you don't hurt him, I'll leave."

Her hand freezes, her grip on my hair slackening. "Oh, really?" I'm sobbing freely now, praying to whatever was above that she would let go and my aniki would comfort me. "Fine. I accept your terms."

She lets go and my body crumples to the ground, legs collapsing beneath me. She backs off and Obito rushes forward, lifting me up in his arms and carrying me upstairs. I can barely see through my tears, and sobs wrench from my throat. Obito takes me to my room, sitting on my bed and holding me close to him. I press my face to his chest as he tells me, "Don't worry, otouto...I will come back."

~BELIEVE~

Too soon, though, and school ended. Kisame informs the group of the meeting and we all head to the café. Said café, Yondaime's, was run by the Namikaze-Uzumaki family and a common meeting place for us. We make it there quickly, and after greeting the woman at the counter (Kushina, one of the co-owners) we move to our regular spot at the back. After we settle into the big ring booth and Kushina-san drops off our normal starting orders (the best coffee and tea available) everyone looks at me expectantly.

I sigh softly and fold my hands together. "Well, seems I have some explaining to do."

Kakuzu snorts. "Yeah. You do."

I nod. "So...the mask. I wear it because I bear a striking similarity to someone. My older brother, Obito. I'm not comfortable speaking about it any further."

The table sits in silence for a moment, all processing what I've just told them. Then Hidan speaks up, grumbling, "Well I don't give a fuck what you fuckin' look like under that dumbass mask, Madara-bitch. You beat the fuck out of that retarded ass heathen fucker Sakon. That's fucking good enough for me."

I blink. "Maa, Hidan, your acceptance is alarming."

He rolls his eyes and mutters, "Shut the fuck up." I chuckle.

"What Hidan is trying to say," Kakuzu states, "is that whatever is under the mask doesn't affect what we think of you. You're still you, and a friend."

I'm serious as I say, "Thank you..." The table fades into silence again, this time contemplative. I glance over at Pein. He's looking at his hands, folded on the tabletop, deep in thought. My stomach tightens, refusing to settle and filling me with a queasiness. I absentmindedly press a hand to it. Pein, who was normally so kind to me, hadn't even looked at me, much less said anything since the incident earlier that week. I feel sick to my stomach now, and much less calm than I was before.

But I keep silent. Everyone else was taking this difference well, so why couldn't he? "So when did you start wearing the mask?" Sasori asks this question.

"When I was seven," I explain, and he accepts the answer with a nod. I look over at Itachi. He hasn't spoken, though I suspect it's because he plans to ambush me with questions later on, one-on-one. Everyone else is looking contemplative and I sigh heavily, putting my elbows on the table and leaning forward, resting my head on my folded hands. I was tired, confused and sick to my stomach.

"When's your birthday, un?" Deidara asks, and I frown a bit at his question.

"Christmas Eve, not that I celebrate it," I respond, shrugging my shoulders and looking down at my coffee. A mint leaf floated on the surface, swirling around. How peaceful, just like the rest of this place. Ample but not uncomfortable lighting, most of it natural and streaming in from the large storefront windows, the smell of all their teas blended together, pictures and paintings decorating the walls. Said walls were painted a deep blue, and the floor was white and black tile. Very home-y environment, one I enjoyed.

"Damn, right before Christmas?" Konan asks. "We're definitely celebrating it this year!"

"Ano, that's not necessary," I mumble, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Nobody was listening to me. I turn from the group and lift the edge of my mask up just enough to drink a mouthful of my mint coffee. Then I push the mask back in place, put my coffee on the table and settle back into my seat. Konan and Deidara are planning away, talking about all the stuff they're going to get. They rope in Zetsu and Sasori, letting them know that they would need their help in specific. Kakuzu, Kisame and Itachi are all discussing the project that we were assigned by our Chemistry teacher. Which leaves Pein and I.

Pein's moved on to staring down into his tea like it's the most interesting thing in the world. My stomach still hurts, the feeling only dulled by the warmth of the coffee I drank. I bite my lower lip nervously, wondering if I should say anything or just keep my mouth shut. With a sigh I decide 'fuck it' and I speak. "Ne, Pein-san, you okay?"

He blinks, looking at me with those gorgeous gray eyes of his. His head is propped up with his hand, his head titled to the side as he finally looked at me. Then he delivers the verdict, the answer to my question, solving (or rather just making my thoughts even more jumbled up) my confusion. "No," he responds shortly, voice cold and devoid of any potentially comforting emotion.

I nod and quickly come to the decision that I should have just shut up. The next thing I do is stand and head to the bathroom. Sasori calls out after me, asking, "Hey, Madara! Where are you going?"

"To throw up," I reply, reaching the door to the bathroom. It was the only one available, if you didn't count the one for the staff in the back. I push it open with one hand, the other rising to move my mask out of my face. The bile was already rising in my throat.

~BELIEVE~

Standing in the bathroom of a tea shop I religiously attended with my friends with a splitting headache, the lingering taste of vomit still in my mouth, the nauseousness usually accompanied by a second bout of puking and the aforementioned friends worried and waiting for me to reappear is not any sort of fun. Neither was peering at myself in the mirror, noting the ashen bags under my eyes and the shade of my skin, sickly and sallow. My face was sticky with sweat and my bangs, having fallen free from the bun my hair was normally kept in and covered by a beanie, cling to my damp skin. I hate being sick, I decide, staring myself down. My eyes are a little bit darker than I remember, glinting red when I tilted my head a certain way. Just like Obito. I look just like him, as he was cemented in my memories. I normally avoid looking at myself in the mirror, preferring to just not look at all because I was afraid of what I would see. But here I was, near-delirious and more than a little sick, staring at myself in the mirror. I touch my face, trailing a hand down my cheek.

I normally didn't get sick like this, so why now? Was my emotional distress really enough to cause physical sickness? Apparently so. I wish Pein-san would talk to me about this, though I might start getting even sicker because my heart was broken.

Damn, I am pathetic.

With this in mind, I wipe my face off with a paper towel from the dispenser by the door. I toss it in the trash, make a face at myself in the mirror, and put my mask back in place. Then, after tidying my hair as best I could, I march out of the bathroom feeling determined. That determination crumbles once I step out and see the detached and rather annoyed look Pein has on his face. Then I just want to run back into the bathroom and hide there forever. Or at least until Pein talked to me again and didn't hate me like he seemed to now.

My stomach turns. "Pein-san..." I shake my head. "I gotta go now, okay? See you later." I don't pause to see if he says anything, or if anyone else notices I'm leaving. I don't even turn back to grab my school bag or the rest of my coffee. I just leave, running away with my figurative tail between my legs.

~BELIEVE~

TA-DA.

Chapter two is done. I hope you enjoyed it. I feel like I am going too fast with certain parts, and not fast enough in others. Gomen T/-\T even so please review!