A Shotgun Full of Rock Salt

By: firefly

Notes: Gone for a year and this is what I have to show for it! Ha ha! But no, seriously, being an adult sucks and I'm sorry. As the Naruto manga is ending very soon, I thought I should wrap up if not at least update a couple of my fics (the other being HoA). Thank you to everyone for their patience and encouragement!

A Shotgun Full of Rock Salt ch.4

The weather seemed to be reflecting the mood in the house that week.

Cold, grey skies shadowed the grounds, casting a pall on the mansion. Besides the noise of construction, the Uchiha district was eerily silent.

The only movement came from the corner of the backyard, where Itachi sat feeding his birds. It was the spot he'd relegated himself to after the dismal first encounter with his wife—not that he had any hard feelings. Her animosity was understandable and he was just sorry she had to be roped into all this.

That, as well as the need to get away from his brother led him to spending long hours alone in the backyard. It wasn't very exciting, but taking up his usual pastime of training young prodigies was out of the question now that Sasuke had forbid him from leaving the grounds. His eyes were another problem.

It seemed the Sharingan, the Swiss Army Knife of doujutsu, had a few setbacks. A pair of eyes could only handle being transplanted a finite number of times. The pair Itachi currently had once belonged to some member of his family, who'd had them gouged out by Danzo and implanted in his arm, and then gouged out again to be transplanted back to Itachi.

Needless to say, the physical trauma had left them a little damaged. If he strained them too much or had a sudden spike in stress, they had the tendency of gushing blood.

He'd had the pleasure of discovering this during training when his Sharingan had haemorrhaged all over Hyuuga Hanabi's face. But since training with Hanabi was indefinitely cancelled, he'd been forced to take up a different pastime.

He'd been trying to get his birds to talk. Ravens were known to be capable of mimicry, and though he'd had little luck thus far, his birds were highly intelligent and he had faith they would pick it up eventually.

The sound of footsteps brought him out of his reverie and he glanced through the open door and into the house.

Sasuke was standing in the middle of the hall, staring up at the ceiling with narrowed eyes. "She's been in her room all day."

Itachi said nothing, surprised that Sasuke was exhibiting concern for someone other than himself. But then he continued.

"She's acting suspicious; planning something." His eyes narrowed further. "I don't like it."

Itachi closed his eyes and uttered a silent prayer for strength. "Sasuke..."

"I'm going to go check on her," Sasuke decided, suddenly striding towards the stairs.

Itachi watched him go, knowing this wasn't going to end well.

He heard his footsteps vanish into the upstairs hallway. Then there was the sound of a door bursting open and Temari's voice shrieking in surprise. "Hey! Get the fuck out of my room!"

There was a loud crash and the sound of the door slamming shut again. Then Sasuke slowly came back down the stairs, red-faced and scowling. Itachi didn't have to ask and resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

His ravens stopped cawing and pecking the ground and stared at him, their beady eyes dark with pity. Sighing, he reached up to the bird perched on his wrist and gently stroked its feathers.

"Will I ever be happy?" he wondered.

"Nevermore," said the raven.

The only thing worse than isolation was being forced to join her new husband and brother-in-law for dinner, especially after Sasuke had barged in on her while she was changing. But it was either that or starve, and Temari figured fifteen minutes together in the same room wouldn't be too bad.

She was wrong.

Sasuke was there exactly at seven, setting the table when she came down and stopped in the doorway. He turned his head and stared at her with an unnervingly blank expression before he pointed to one of the chairs. "Sit down."

It sounded more like an order than an invitation. And he didn't even apologize for earlier. She clenched her jaw to keep from retorting and took a seat, if only so she could eat quickly and go back to her room. Itachi came soon after, only adding to the awkwardness when he sat at the other end of the table without saying anything.

Temari chanced a glance at him and found him staring lifelessly into his plate.

God help me, she thought in desperation.

Sasuke wordlessly placed a helping of the chicken onto her plate, along with rice and cooked vegetables. Temari barely looked at it and started eating, more desperate than ever to finish and leave.

"Nii-san," Sasuke said, taking the carving knife to the chicken again, "what part do you want?"

Itachi didn't look up from his plate and murmured that he wasn't hungry.

Silence fell on the room like an oppressive blanket. Temari looked up from her plate, pausing mid-chew. Sasuke was eerily still, holding the knife above the chicken and staring at his brother with an expression she could only describe as frightening.

Itachi seemed to realise he wouldn't be going anywhere until he ate, especially since Sasuke was more than willing to force it down his throat. So he sighed and offered his plate up in silence.

Sasuke's expression immediately grew calm again and Temari watched with growing confusion as he proceeded to cut Itachi's chicken into little bite-sized pieces. She only understood when he handed Itachi a spoon instead of chopsticks.

It took a fair bit of effort to keep from gaping at them and she forced her attention back to her meal. It was beginning to feel like she wasn't living with a husband and brother-in-law as much as new roommates. Except one was clinically depressed and the other a paranoid lunatic.

The rest of the meal passed in unbearable silence until Temari shoved the last of the rice into her mouth and immediately stood up. Before she could start toward the door, Sasuke's voice broke the silence.

"Temari."

Not without trepidation, she stopped and turned around.

"Stay," he said. "I need to talk to you."

"Does it have to be right now? I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

"It's important and it concerns you."

"But—"

"Sit down."

Temari bristled at his tone but didn't argue. He was starting to get that wild look in his eyes again and frankly it reminded her too much of a homicidal Gaara for her to risk irritating him any further.

A few minutes later, Itachi got up and left without a word. Sasuke cleared the dishes and invited her into the living room. Temari reluctantly followed, resisting the urge to bolt when he beckoned for her to sit and sat directly across from her.

She hated to admit it, but Sasuke was seriously freaking her out. She suddenly regretted leaving her fan upstairs.

Sasuke seemed oblivious to her discomfort and pulled a folder out of a bag he'd brought with him. Then he raised his head and just stared at her.

"What's this about?" Temari finally demanded.

"Paperwork," he said calmly.

"What kind of paperwork?"

"Your blood type is O, isn't it?"

"Yea—how do you know that?"

Sasuke didn't answer and just pulled out a medical form. "I need you to sign this."

"If you think I'm going to sign that without knowing what it is, you're crazy."

"In case something happens to me and Itachi needs an organ donor, you'll be his second option." He paused long enough to slide a paper towards her. "You have to sign this consent form."

Temari looked blankly at the form in front of her. Then she looked at Sasuke to see if he was joking. When his expression didn't change, she had to bite her lip to keep from swearing at his audacity.

"No," she said, struggling to stay civil. "I refuse."

Sasuke stared at her like she was a babbling idiot.

Temari clenched her jaw and shoved the paper back at him. "Just because you guys swap eyeballs like trading cards doesn't mean I'll take part. My answer is no."

"You don't have a right to refuse."

"Really?" Temari said, struggling to contain her fury. "Mind explaining why?"

"You're his wife," he said coldly. "You have an obligation to sign this."

Temari's lips parted but no sound came out. Sasuke's face blurred until the only thing she could see was a vision of her fist connecting with his jaw. "You smug son of a—"

"Sasuke. Leave her alone."

They both glanced up towards the front of the room. Itachi stood in the doorway, regarding his little brother with disapproval.

Sasuke frowned resentfully in return. "I'm doing this for your own good."

"I know you are," Itachi said, with the weary sort of affection one held for a loved but deeply disturbed relative. "But not at the expense of her comfort. Save this for another time."

Sasuke seemed ready to argue, but relented at the entreating look his brother was sending him.

"Fine," he muttered.

Temari slowly eased her grip on the armrest, relaxing a little. Against her will, she found her gaze moving towards her saviour, who returned the glance briefly with an apologetic look before he turned and left the room.

She didn't dawdle to see if Sasuke had anything left to say and quickly followed suit, taking the steps two at a time and barricading herself inside her room.

Tedious or not, self-imposed isolation ended up giving her a lot of time to think. Despite her immense dislike for Sasuke, she found her opinion softening in a grudging sort of way towards Itachi. So far, he'd done as she'd asked and stayed at least ten feet away from her at all times, making it a point to leave whatever part of the house he could hear her approaching.

And the few times they did run into each other, he'd consistently thought of her comfort and left before things could get awkward. He'd even gone so far as to save her from his organ-hungry brother.

As the days passed, she actually found herself feeling sorry for him, much to her annoyance. A part of her still despised him for what he'd done in the past, but it was clear that he derived no pleasure from living. His current situation was more punishing than anything she could imagine, so her anger ebbed into a weird, semi-detached pity she didn't know what to do with.

Plus she was growing intolerably bored. How everyone expected her to sit pretty and play housewife was beyond her, and sitting in her room all day finally drove her stir-crazy enough to venture out the next day.

Thankfully, Sasuke was nowhere in sight and she was able to relax a little as she explored the house. She strayed into the kitchen, wondering where Itachi had gone when she caught movement outside the window.

Ah, there he was. He was standing in the yard, watering the weeds again. Something told her that was counterintuitive to having a healthy lawn, but she supposed he had to fill his time somehow.

Which was pitiful, really. But who was she to talk? She was standing there watching him water the damn weeds.

Pursing her lips, Temari crossed her arms on the windowsill and studied her new husband. The way they'd gone on about him, it was like they'd made him out to be some kind of god. A genius, they'd lauded. The most brilliant shinobi of his time.

But they'd said the same thing about his brother during the chuunin exams. And Hyuuga Neji. And Gaara. And Kakashi. And Shikamaru. And even Konohamaru, apparently, because the kid had somehow mastered the rasengan. What did that make Itachi, then? A super genius? It sounded stupid even thinking it.

She frowned. It was hard to discern just from looking at him because ninety percent of the time he just looked like he wanted to kill himself. The rest of the time, he looked like a relatively normal guy. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Average build. Average height. Normal.

So why was she still standing there looking at him?

Something felt amiss. Some absurd, totally random thought cropped up in her brain, telling her that this was a pivotal moment and she should have been realising how handsome he looked in the sunlight.

What the fuck? She thought in response.

She vigorously shook her head and rubbed her eyes before looking at him again. He was squinting in the bright light and looked resigned to what he was doing. The water fell from the hose in a droopy stream.

He looked kind of pathetic, actually.

Temari wondered where the disturbing thought had come from and anxiously rubbed her temple. Being held prisoner in the Uchiha mansion was doing her no favours. Staying here would undoubtedly kill her.

At the same moment, she heard muffled footsteps and noticed a Sasuke-shaped silhouette appearing behind the screen door. Turning, she quickly left the kitchen and headed back to her room, realising she had to find a way to escape the house before she went as insane as its other two occupants.

"Hokage-sama, it's time for your conference."

Naruto woke with a startled snort and looked wildly around the room. After a few seconds, he realised he'd fallen asleep at his desk and there were voices outside the door. As if on cue, three loud knocks resounded in the room.

"Come in!" he said hoarsely as he tried to arrange his desk into something presentable. The door opened and two ANBU walked in. They stopped short when they noticed Naruto's bloodshot eyes and the garbage dump collecting around the office.

"Er, Hokage-sama, are you all right?"

"Fine!" Naruto said, sweeping the trash off his desk. "Just fine! What's up, guys?"

"You have your conference in ten minutes," the one in the lizard mask said. "Did you, uh, forget?"

"Conference?" Naruto echoed blankly. His eyes darted left and right before he began gnawing his nails. "Where's Kakashi?"

"You sent him on an A-rank mission a week ago."

"When's he coming back?"

"We don't know, sir."

"C-Can't we...uh..." Naruto's eyes sightlessly travelled the room as he scrubbed his hands over his pants. "Can't we postpone this thing till he comes back?"

"Practically the entire village is waiting for you, Hokage-sama."

Naruto made a small, frightened noise. He looked around, briefly considering knocking the two ninjas out and making a run for it, but then remembered he was hungover.

Slowly, he stood up and did his best to fix his appearance. When he thought they weren't looking, he took a deep swig from his whisky flask and stashed it back in his robe. The ANBU saw what he was doing and slowly exchanged looks.

"Well then," Naruto said, wiping his mouth on his robe. "Let's give the people what they want. Can't be too hard."

The liquid courage only lasted him the ten-minute walk it took to reach the village square. By the time he reached the stage and heard the rumblings of the audience, Naruto was itching to drain his flask until it was empty. Before he could reach for it, one of his aides pushed him into the spotlight.

Stumbling, he somehow managed to keep from tripping over his robes and stood blinking stupidly in the bright light. A headache immediately began pounding behind his eyes and he reached up to block the glare.

"Your notes!" one of the aides hissed offstage.

"Oh! Uh—" he fumbled inside his robes, littering the stage with used tissues and candy wrappers until he found a stack of index cards. Clearing his throat, he looked up and mustered a smile at the village people.

They didn't smile back.

Sweating, Naruto cleared his throat again and began reading. "Thank you everyone for coming. As you know, the last few months have been hard on the village. The economy is struggling and the village has been in a rece—recess—um, the village isn't doing too good. But I, as your Hokage, am hopeful that—"

"Enough of your blathering!" a woman shouted near the front of the stage. "We want results! When is the south-side road resurfacing going to be complete?"

Naruto gaped at her, the index cards growing damp in his sweaty hands. "That, uh, that's a great question! Let's save those until after I'm—"

"I want to know why I haven't received my social security check!" someone else yelled.

Naruto looked wildly around at the audience as the murmurs slowly began escalating into a protest.

"My insurance premium is too high! Make it lower!"

"I was laid off!"

"I don't like that dango stand on my street. Tear it down!"

Naruto's breath began to hitch uncontrollably as his gaze darted around the crowd. The index cards hung limply by his side, then fell all over the stage when he tried to protect his face from a tomato someone lobbed at him.

"Stop! Please!" he begged, raising one hand in supplication as others joined in. Tomatoes and cabbages rained over his robe and he fought back tears, wondering if this was what his dreams amounted to, wondering where his fire and determination had gone. But then he felt the weight of his flask and realised the old Naruto was gone, drowned somewhere in the soul-sucking void of politics and booze.

Something soft and small hit him next and he lowered his arm from over his eyes to see what had landed at his feet.

It was a decapitated pigeon.

His mouth fell open in horror. Looking up, his gaze landed on a decrepit old man a few yards in front of him. As he looked upon those glaring blue eyes and that bitter, twisted visage, he realised with a wave of terror that he was seeing his own future.

"There are too many birds nesting on my land," the old man wheezed. "Get rid of them!"

That was the clincher.

Fisting his fingers in his hair, Naruto let out a high-pitched scream and ran off stage.

3:20 AM.

Temari groaned softly and slumped back into her pillow, trying to block out the glowing red numbers on her bedside clock. After a while of trying to get back to sleep, she gave up and lay curled up and shivering in her blankets. Her room was freezing.

She'd worn as many layers as possible without feeling ridiculous, but they did little to help against the cold seeping in through the cracks and old weather stripping.

Frustrated, she flung off her blanket and got out of bed. Finding her slippers, she jammed them on and shuffled out into the hallway. The house was as dark and still as a tomb.

Feeling goosebumps rise on her arms, she quietly started down the hall.

There was no way she was going to wake Sasuke up at this time of night. After seeing all the traps he'd rigged on the property, he'd probably mistake her for a burglar and stab her in the neck.

With that thought, she slowed to a stop outside of Itachi's bedroom. She grimaced, knowing she wouldn't have resorted to this if she'd had any other choice. Besides hating to ask for a favour, she felt kind of bad waking him up. He looked like a zombie during the day, so she figured the only time he had any peace was when he was asleep.

So just crawl into bed with him, an innocent voice said.

"What?" Temari said out loud, her eyes widening.

There. Again. For the second time that day that foreign, nagging voice surfaced in her mind, this time with the stupidest suggestion she'd ever heard.

There's nothing wrong with that, it continued amicably. It's just to keep warm for the night. And I'm sure he won't notice you getting in, even though he's ANBU rank and could probably notice a pin dropping on the other side of the house.

What the hell kind of reasoning is that? She wondered.

It sounded close enough to the rampant idiocy Gaara had described in his story that she made a mental note to see a neurologist.

In the mean time, she did the most logical and respectful thing she could do and knocked on his door.

As she waited, she had to forcefully beat down that same voice singing about the possibility of him showing up at the door half-naked, hair all sexy and tousled, voice all deep and husky, boxers hanging dangerously low on his—

The door opened.

Itachi blinked down at Temari through squinting, puffy eyes. He was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and an old sweatshirt that said KA Class of '79.

The sight drove the bawdy mental image right out of her head and she managed to collect herself.

"Your heater's busted," she said. "My room is freezing."

He blinked once, slowly, before nodding and disappearing back into his room. Temari stood there, shifting uncomfortably, until he came back with two hot water bottles and an electric blanket.

"I'm sorry," he said, handing them to her. "The heater has been doing that lately. I will tell Sasuke in the morning."

She slowly took the items from him, almost melting in relief at the heat that permeated her frozen fingers. The blanket was still warm. Then she blinked, realising what that meant. "Wait. What are you going to use?"

"I have more," he said, looking at the doorjamb and taking a step back. "Sasuke gave me several."

Temari stared at him, wondering what he was doing when she realised he was retreating out of respect for her 'ten feet' rule. Her expression softened a little.

"It's okay," she muttered, hugging the bottles to her chest. "You don't have to do that anymore."

He paused and looked at her. There was an awkward moment of silence.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked.

She thought a moment. "Antacid, if you have it."

He nodded and went back into his room. Then he emerged holding a pill bottle and offered it to her.

She accepted it, about to thank him when Sasuke's irritated voice floated through the hall. "I can hear you. Go back to your rooms."

Temari turned her head and glared in the direction of his room. By the time she glanced back around, Itachi was already in his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

She stood there for a moment, feeling a little better for the fact that Itachi didn't seem as bad as she'd once thought. Looking down at the warm electric blanket, she couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude.

It probably smells like him, the voice suddenly said in rapture. If you call yourself a woman, you'll bury your face in it RIGHT. NOW.

This time, Temari formed a fist and ground it into her temple in an effort to bore the voice out.

What the hell is wrong with me? She thought, a little frightened as she hurried back to her room. She had no desire whatsoever to know what Itachi smelled like; probably regret and broken dreams, if she had to hazard a guess.

She sat on her bed and held the blanket up in front of her with a grimace. Well, it wouldn't hurt if she checked, just to be safe—

She brought it closer to her face and tentatively sniffed.

It smelled of fabric softener and mothballs.

Relieved, she wrapped it around her shoulders and dropped back into bed.

Kakashi yawned behind his mask and stretched, arduously making the long climb to Naruto's office. That A-rank mission had really done a number on him. He looked forward to nothing more than going home and sinking into a hot bath.

He emerged onto the top floor, about to continue onwards when he came to an abrupt stop. There was an abandoned shopping cart in the middle of the hallway.

Blinking, Kakashi looked around and noticed the floor was littered with paper cups and other trash. And, he hoped he was wrong, did he smell urine?

As if on cue, a haggard looking man in soiled rags went shuffling past him, pausing long enough to yell nonsensically at the air before continuing on into one of the nearby rooms.

Kakashi paused long enough to wonder why dirty vagrants were wandering the Hokage's hallways before he shrugged and continued onward. Not my damn job.

When he got to Naruto's office, he tried the doorknob and found the door stuck. Surprised, he tried again, pushing his weight into it.

The door slowly eased open this time, knocking over a stack of empty ramen cups and other garbage piled against it. Kakashi stepped past the mess and into the room. "Naruto?"

There was no answer. Kakashi stood there and stared around at his surroundings. Wrinkled laundry was hanging from the light fixture and the curtain rod. Various pieces of furniture and antique items were missing. Black paper had been pasted over the windows. Kakashi cautiously took another step into the room, about to call out for the Hokage again when he found him.

The boy was sleeping in the corner of his office on a stack of flattened cardboard boxes. His Hokage robe was soiled and rumpled, draped over him like a blanket.

"Naruto?" Kakashi said in disbelief.

The figure moved and raised red-rimmed eyes to the man standing over him.

"Kakashi-sensei," he said weakly, "how was the mission?"

His eyes were glassy and his hair wild. The blond mop was tangled and greasy and stuck up in all directions.

Kakashi looked at him wearily. "Are you drunk?"

Naruto slowly climbed to his feet, swaying as he made his way to his desk. "Uh, maybe a little."

"Naruto," Kakashi sighed , closing his eyes, "why are there homeless people living in the building?"

There was a long silence as Naruto sobered up enough to realise how this must have looked. All at once, despair overwhelmed him and his face crumpled. "People wanted the bums off the streets, so I rented out my apartment and the office space. Now I'm living here."

"Why?"

Naruto's eyes slowly filled with tears. "Because there's no money left in the budget," he whimpered. Then he broke down crying at his desk.

Kakashi spent the next ten minutes trying to console him, making a note to ask for a pay raise as he accidentally stepped in week-old ramen.

"They said I was going to be impeached," Naruto wailed. "I don't even know what that means!"

Kakashi tried not to recoil when his old student clung desperately to his waist.

"I can't do this, Kakashi-sensei," he sobbed. "There's too many of them—they want too much—and I can't give it to them!"

The jounin gently pried him off and eased him back into the chair. Then he crossed his arms and sighed, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

"Well," he said in a tone of resignation, "I was hoping you wouldn't have to resort to this, but it's obvious we have no other choice."

Naruto sniffed. "What? What are you talking about?"

Kakashi shrugged. "A contingency plan, in case you failed miserably. Except I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"What?" Naruto said desperately. "Tell me! I'll do anything!"

Kakashi straightened and turned away from the Hokage portraits on the wall. God only knew they'd be rolling in their graves if they heard what he was about to say.

Leaning forward, he planted both hands on the desk and looked Naruto straight in the eye. "Sell out."

Naruto blinked. "Huh?"

"You're going to build a casino," Kakashi said.

Naruto stared at him with his mouth hanging open. "W-What? Kakashi-sensei, we can't afford that! The labour—the lumber—who's going to pay for it?"

Kakashi held up one finger, waiting for Naruto to fall silent. Then he lowered his hand and smiled.

"That's why," he said with a wink, "we have Yamato."

Naruto opened his mouth to respond, then slowly closed it again. Kakashi could see the gears turning in his head and watched as a glimmer of hope, tentative and new, broke through Naruto's glazed eyes.

"Kakashi-sensei," he murmured, looking at him in awe. "Are you my guardian angel?"

Kakashi opened his mouth to respond, then stopped when he looked at the tear-stained, bedraggled face of his former student. He decided to let him have this one.

"Yes, Naruto," he said. "I'm your guardian angel."

Naruto wiped his eyes and gazed at him with newfound respect. "You're a genius. How did you come up with this?"

Kakashi shrugged. "To be honest, it's what I planned on doing when they picked me to be Hokage."

"Oh." Naruto paused before looking up at him hopefully. "You wouldn't happen to want the job back, would you?"

Kakashi smiled and patted him on the head. "Not a chance."