If These Walls Could Talk
Chapter 4
I'm well into a two-hour investment of my soap operas one Saturday afternoon when the door flies open with a loud bang. It startles me enough that I reach for the hidden kunai in the couch cushions. Except it's just Naruto with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. I pause to ponder the ability that Kushina and I had to create the literal personification of a golden retriever.
"Dad! Dad! Guess what?! I'm going on a date with a GIRL!"
I feel my mouth begin to creep open in bewilderment. Gods, I love him, but what kind of stupid teenage girl would say yes?
Sasuke comes through the doorframe next and even from the couch I can see his eyes roll. "It's just Sakura. Don't let him fool you." I told him to stop rolling his eyes like that; they were going to get stuck.
Naruto's neck splotches red in response. "That's beside the point, asshole! I asked if she wanted to go to Hanabi's birthday party tonight, and she said yes. By definition, that makes it a date."
"Yeah, if you're a fucking loser," Sasuke retorts.
"Hey now, watch your goddamn language boys," I interrupt. "Whose birthday? Where?" I can never remember if Hanabi is the loud or the quiet Hyuuga.
"They convinced Nara into using his parent's land for a bonfire," Sasuke explains, clearly the only one listening to me as Naruto continues to victory dance in the middle of the living room.
"And you're going?" Sasuke is just in the beginnings of a head shake no when Naruto latches onto him like an oversized, tan leech.
"Of course you're coming. You can be my brooding buffer. And I need to practice what I'll say to Sakura tonight." He dashes off to his bedroom presumably to get ready.
I turn to Sasuke once they're gone only to find him glaring daggers in my direction. I smile sheepishly, running my fingers through the hair at my nape awkwardly. I obviously missed a very big clue.
"You weren't going to jump to my rescue?" he asks sullenly, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It'll be good for you; you need to be around other people. Besides I need a night to air out that dungeon you call a bedroom." I mean this as a joke, I swear. Instead, it creates the opposite reaction of what I'm expecting.
"Guess I'm not good at much of anything, am I?" He stalks off, mid-tantrum, but his words are what unsettles me. Sasuke tries so hard to excel at what he knows he's good at. His comment is something more than a pouty, teenage remark. It opened a window to the soul of his self-esteem. There, it's ugly. Broken. The slam of his bedroom door rings out in the silence that follows.
I numbly enter the kitchen with the intent of fixing some tea as an apology. Sasuke is a ticking time bomb a lot of the time; I always have to be careful with my words. I can joke around with Naruto, and he'll give back as good as he gets. Sasuke is too…sensitive.
The water reaches a boil, and I place tea bags into the two mugs to steep. I jump slightly when I notice Sasuke in the doorway. One hand clutches the back of his neck, and the other grips the doorframe so hard his knuckles have turned white. The deep slashes on his wrists have healed to scabs by this point, but they still serve as a reminder that his life can be so fleeting.
"Naruto just left. He was mad when I said I wasn't going."
"He'll get over it, but you should try to go next time." I want to admonish him. I want to tell him it's not too late to catch up with Naruto. I don't. I have to validate what he feels -however quick-changing it might be.
"Minato—I have a favor to ask," he mumbles, casting his eyes up at the ceiling so he doesn't have to look at me. I lean back on my elbows and nod. He takes a deep breath, exhaling it slowly, and allows his feet to shuffle nervously at the tile floor beneath them.
"Well…" I urge, waving my arm in the hopes it would get him to spit what he needs to say out.
"Would you agree that I'm worthless?"
He says it so fast that, at first, I don't quite understand. When I decipher it, my eyes widen, and a frown pulls at the corners of my mouth. "Why would I agree to something stupid like that?" I question like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world and, in truth, it might as well be.
"Minato!" he snaps, impatient.
"Okay, okay." I back down, lifting my hands in a show of peace. "You're worthless. You're the most worthless shinobi I've ever met."
He cuts his eyes at me and then back at the ceiling quickly. "You didn't say it right. Tell me and mean it."
Such a brat. What is the point of this stupid game? I stare across the room at him, wishing he could look me in the face so I could see what he's really getting at. Why in the hell would he want me to call him worthless?
Surely…he doesn't feel like that, does he? Christ, what if this is just another way to hurt himself? It's not physical, but it has the potential to cut just as deep. "I'm not going to say that," I begin quietly. His eyes snap to mine angrily, eyes spinning red with his Sharingan, but I power through. "I'm not going to lie to you and say something I don't mean."
His emotions are so volatile in that moment that I can feel the tension cutting between us. Would he go so far as to use the Sharingan on me? Sometimes Naruto, with the actual fox demon inside him, is more stable than Sasuke when it comes to anger management.
Thankfully, all he does is stalk towards me and swipe hard at my stomach with his fist. In the next moment, he's wrapping his arms around my midsection and pressing up close against me in an embrace. I know he's sorry for taking his frustration out on me; it's not the first time. I'm pushed back until I feel the edge of the counter, and a sharp pain shoots up my spine.
"Why can't you do something this simple?" he mutters heatedly. His fingers curl sharply; they pinch the thin skin of my lower back.
I forcefully pry his fingers from me and hold him at arm's length, staring him down without a hint of teasing in my eyes. "Listen here, you ornery brat. You aren't worthless to me."
His eyes cloud over with some unnamed emotion I couldn't begin to describe. He jerks away pitifully, rushing from the kitchen with the harsh slam of the door behind him. I should follow him. Any good parent wouldn't let their child go through such internal conflict alone.
I stare down at our tea which has now become too bitter and tepid to drink. I'm not good at this.
The floorboards in the hallway creak under my feet as I make my way towards Naruto's open bedroom door. A flash of blue is curled up on the otherwise strikingly orange bed. I step into the dim room. Sasuke looks much younger than almost sixteen with the way he is curled up. It causes my stomach to clench painfully.
I sit on the edge of the bed and wrap an arm around his midsection and pull him up against my leg. He moves easily, limp as a rag-doll. He grunts lowly and swats at my hands in a piss-poor attempt for me to leave him alone. "Why won't you talk to us?"
There's a pause and Sasuke sighs loudly in the room. It sounds so exasperated and so much like Sasuke I can't help but snort laughter. "I did," he admonishes childishly.
"Forcing me to tell you that you're worthless is not what I meant."
"I don't…I don't know what to do with all this," he murmurs lowly, placing a hand against his chest. "Sometimes it just seems to block everything out."
This is the most he's ever alluded to the depression he feels inside of him, and it breaks me. I feel hot tears blur my eyesight. "Alright, tell me why you think you're not worth anything to anyone. To us." My voice catches.
Without missing a beat, I hear his reply. "Next question."
"Stubborn fucking Uchihas. Okay, so why is Naruto's room the first place you come to when you're upset?"
There is silence from him, but I wait patiently because he is about to admit something I'm likely never allowed to speak of in front of or to Naruto.
"Everything smells like him in here. I guess it calms me down more if I'm around things that are his."
I laugh out loud this time. "Seriously? It smells like wet, dirty socks in here. How is this comforting?!"
He sniffs the air a second before turning his head to smirk back at me. "You're right, it does stink. I hate it in here."
I chuckle and swing myself off the bed. "Okay since you're deadset on not getting drunk in a field somewhere, I'm ordering out. What do you want to eat? And please don't say ramen." One of my damn kids has to have an aversion to the stuff; I'm going to die of sodium poisoning before I make it to 60.
"Sashimi and rice." As if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He slides out of bed and passes me on the way out of the bedroom. His face has more color, and his eyes look a little livelier than they did moments ago.
Sashimi and rice, it is.
"Let's watch a horror, too," Sasuke calls from the living room. I can hear him digging around in my extensive movie collection like he hasn't seen each and every one before.
Somehow, I've successfully beat back the monster this time. Would I be as lucky the next? He's crouched over several options laid out on the floor in front of him. He seems to almost be excited to be spending a boring night in with me. A rush of guilt passes through me. Maybe I'm not giving him enough time outside of work? Maybe I need to focus a little more on our bond instead of all three of us? Perhaps I need to sincerely try to help my son – by getting him the right kind of counsel.
My denial has gone on for too long. The only way I can help Sasuke now is to make sure Naruto and I are not his only resource. He will fight it and vehemently cuss me for involving other people.
As the light from the television reflects the dark hollows beneath his eyes, I know that he's worth it. His life and well-being are worth every moment of mine he hates me for.
