The new Reader Traffic feature? Very cool.
Title: Nictation
Summary: In which there is a staring contest.
Sasuke's sitting on an overly large cushion that's the right blend of fluff and comfort. He would've been completely happy, had it not been for the shinobi lounging on another pillow on the other side of the low wooden table.
Hatake's wearing his forehead protector on a slant to cover the Sharingan eye. The other is closed and the rest of his face is covered with the facemask attached to the skintight shirt. One arm, covered in a long glove spanning all the way up to his bicep, hangs listlessly from his propped up knee. He's still wearing his uniform, sans the silver armor and the dog mask. Sasuke can see the white wrappings wound around his thigh with the kunai holster hanging off. He looks just like every other jounin in Konoha's ranks at the end of a day's mission; free of the standard, long-sleeved sweater with the bright, red swirls, and the murky, green flak jacket. He could've passed, if not for the telltale swirl tattooed onto his skin.
And right now, he's ignoring Sasuke. (Though more accurately, he's ignoring everyone.) He's leaning against the wall, dozing.
Sasuke bunches his hands together in his shirt and glares. It's not a typical glare, noo, it's the glare. The one that should burn holes into whatever he directs his gaze at, because the Uchiha are legendary for their doujutsu, so it would make sense that he would be able to reduce shinobi to piles of dust if he wills it, wouldn't it? Or at least, some parts of them, since Hatake's ANBU.
But Hatake doesn't even so much as twitch.
Sasuke bristles. His teeth grind together behind tightly closed lips as his shoulders tremble with the temptation to reach for the pepper shakers and—
"Sasuke," Itachi says, slanting him a look that looks like every other look he gives him.
Sasuke visibly deflates, and then pouts. It quickly turns into a sulk, which morphs back into a glare when he notices the eye that's now half-lidded. He's watching him. Sasuke can't read him, so he doesn't know if he's laughing at him or if he's amused or if he feels anything at all behind the mask. His eye doesn't give anything away, but at least he's looking at him.
He could've been asleep and Sasuke might've had a better chance at determining his thoughts. It's the mask. Perhaps that's what aggravates Sasuke the most, the fact that he covers his face. He doesn't like it when he can't see people's faces. It's like they're hiding. People who wear masks always have something to hide, he'd overheard his father say once, and when they hide it'll be harder to see and he might miss important things and then he'll never be good enough to beat Itachi.
Hatake hides his face all the time, and it's like lying, and Sasuke hates liars. And perhaps, what he hates the most, is that he can't read him no matter how hard he tries.
To Sasuke's right, Itachi lets out a soundless sigh, excuses himself and stands up. He's going to see what's taking Shisui so long, he says, there's a chance he's gotten lost again.
Hatake waves a lazy hand through the air and tilts his head almost mockingly in dismissal. Itachi leaves without another word. Sasuke turns the glare to C-rank katon-level fierceness, teeth bared.
"Aren't you a little ray of sunshine." Hatake slips forward, elbow coming to rest on wood as he nestles his cheek in his palm. He might be smiling, but Sasuke can't tell even at the closer proximity. He's blinking slowly.
A thin black brow twitches and Sasuke stares back at him impudently. He refuses to blink.
The silence stretches to ten seconds, then fifteen, then twenty. A faint smirk tugs up the corners of Hatake's shadowed lips. He hums. "Is that how you want to be," he says, and it's not really a question. A spark of what Sasuke's certain is amusement plays over the grey iris. Hatake tilts his head to the side, keeping his gaze connected with Sasuke's. He stops blinking.
And suddenly, it's a Staring Competition. Determined, Sasuke purses his lips together and widens his eyes just a bit to keep them from closing. Being an Uchiha gives him an advantage. He has an unusually longer blinking rate than most; he's confident it's longer than Hatake's.
Never mind the fact that he's had his eyes open for an extra twenty seconds than his opponent. Sasuke likes to think he's generous that way.
The seconds trickle by and Sasuke quickly grows frustrated. The eye is still hooded in its perpetual state of sleepiness. It doesn't appear as if he's moved a hairsbreadth in the past thirty—thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three—seconds. As the time reaches well over the minute mark since the mutual commencement, Sasuke feels his eyes burning. They're starting to strain with the lack of lubrication, but he can feel tears gathering at his tear ducts. He bites his lip and furrows his brows together and widens his eyes even more, as if forcefully keeping his eyes open would keep his eyelids from surrendering.
He starts holding his breath someway between one minute and forty seconds, and two minutes, unconsciously. He isn't aware of it, until Hatake opens his mouth and says, "I don't think Itachi-kun would forgive me if you asphyxiated." The eye curves slightly, but it's still open, and it doesn't shut. Hatake hums again with a slight inflection that could either be considering or boredom—Sasuke looks deranged, and perhaps a little bit cute, but still very deranged.
Sasuke tries not to get angry, but it's so hard not to and he really, really wants to kick the man in the shins. Sasuke's very good at that, usually. He breathes through his nose, fumes silently, and then becomes suspicious. He wonders if there's a technique that allows the user to turn into a statue, because that has to be what Hatake's doing, if just for his eyes. There's no way he should be able to keep this up.
At three minutes, Sasuke's eyes are strained with reddened veins and the man is completely out of focus in his sight. It's only through sheer force of will that they're open, but it's a new personal best. Grudgingly, he's surprised he's managed it for so long, but why isn't Hatake showing any signs of tiring? A small sound—of resentment, indignation, or perhaps frustration—bubbles at the back of his throat.
"Kakashi-san," a smooth voice cuts through their gaze and drags it towards Itachi, who's standing at the edge of the table with a wry expression on his face. Shisui is at his side, brow raised and mouth smirking.
The interruption forces Sasuke to blink. He whimpers (not because he lost—he hasn't registered that yet) because his eyes feel painfully like sandpaper no matter how much he blinks. He lowers his eyelids completely, and brings his hands to cover them for extra protection. He scowls when he feels tears sliding onto his lashes as he blinks furiously.
Itachi settles down next to Sasuke and continues, ever polite, "Please stop antagonizing my brother."
There's a slight rustle, indicative of Hatake leaning back against the wall. He chuckles softly, a low, sensual sound that makes Sasuke less angry than he wants to feel. He has to resist the urge to peek out from beneath his hands. "We were just engaging in a harmless competition, weren't we, Neko-chan?" A mischievous smile colors his voice.
Then Sasuke gives into the temptation and glares at him again. The sudden flooding of light is a little stinging, and the silver of the man's hair is perhaps just a little bit more blinding, but his glare is now a B-rank katon-level glare. "Cheater!" he hisses.
Shisui laughs.
Itachi wipes his chopsticks over with a tissue, and then rearranges them on his bowl.
Hatake simply stares at him blankly.
Sasuke huffs and scowls and turns his face to the side, pert little nose in the air.
As if to prove a point—or most likely, just to get a rise from Sasuke who's too disciplined in Itachi's company—for the duration of the dinner, Hatake never once blinks, nor does he remove his eyes from Sasuke's.
He also deliberately monopolizes the peppershaker's time.
