Deidara moved again slightly in his sleep, and nestled himself deeper into the thick, white covers. When he was dreaming, his nose twitched slightly, Sasori noted. As Deidara's face twitched slightly again, and his nose moved, Sasori smiled. He wondered what Deidara was dreaming about.
Sasori leant back and rest on his elbows, and tilted his head slightly. The morning Sun shone through the window, and made Deidara's hair glisten like gold. With the white sheets around him, and his golden blond hair framing his face, he looked like an angel; Sasori's angel.
Sometimes, when Sasori was alone, he'd muse that Deidara was sent to him to make life seem brighter and more cheerful. Every time his life hit a new low, his blond haired lover would be there for him, to pick up the pieces and put them back together. And he did it all with a smile.
Sasori loved nothing more than watching his Dei-kun sleep. He himself hardly slept at all, his dreams were troubled and when he did finally sleep, he usually felt a lot worse for it. He smiled as Deidara turned again and lay on his belly, splaying his arms and legs out across the width of the bed, and his blond hair fell across his face.
Sasori reached out, and gently brushed Deidara's hair away from his eyes. He pulled his hand back quietly as Deidara hazily opened his eyes.
"Morning Sasori-chan," Deidara murmured, still half in the embrace of his dreams. He reached out and placed his hand in front of Sasori, and Sasori gingerly put his hand over Deidara's.
"Morning Dei-chan."
Deidara smiled, gradually gaining consciousness, and shuffled closer towards Sasori. The room they were in was cool, as Sasori could only afford to live if the heating was constantly shut off. Deidara pulled the blanket towards Sasori, realizing that in his sleep he'd rolled and pulled it away.
Deidara swept Sasori into the blanket, and for the first time, he seemed to be the one in control. Sasori relaxed in Deidara's arms, and sighed contentedly as Deidara ran his fingers through his reddened hair. Deidara smiled. He loved these moments. Moments when his Sasori-kun just let go of his troubles, and dropped his guard.
Deidara looked down at Sasori, and tightened his grip around him. He wanted to protect him sometimes too. He kissed the top of his head, and gently nuzzled his red hair with his cheek.
"I love you Sasori."
Sasori murmured a reply, and wrapped his arms around Deidara, feeling Deidara's soft, long hair brush against his hands.
Deidara leant back slightly, and realized the clock on the bedside table said "09:00," which meant that class had already started. Deidara jumped up, and moaned as he pulled on yesterday's clothes and brushed his hair up. Sasori lazily got out of bed and stretched, smiling as he watched Deidara frantically getting ready. He eased on some loose jeans, and a plain black top, and ruffled his hair in the mirror as he followed Deidara out onto the street.
They practically ran all the way up the street to school, and as they made it through the double doors into the hall a chill simultaneously ran down both their spines. Familiar faces met them, but not Itachi or Kisame. The boy whose nose was crushed by Sasori loomed over the pair, with his two friends backing him up.
Deidara and Sasori knew they couldn't win this fight, and gripped hands with each other as they made their way past the trio of overbuilt teens, hoping that they'd leave them alone. They were right to presume they wouldn't.
Instantly, the larger of the pair grappled Sasori away from Deidara, and held him back by his waist.
The "leader" of the trio grabbed Deidara, and pinned him up against the lockers in full view of Sasori, whose curses were muffled by a large hand.
Sasori bit into the boys hand as hard as he could, and the warm, metal taste of blood rushed into his mouth, but the boy simply winced, and tightened his grip, digging his elbow into Sasori's stomach.
Sasori could only watch.
Deidara winced as the large boy crushed his throat with his thumbs. He whimpered as the boys hot, sticky breath neared his face.
"This doesn't feel right to you, does it?" the boy growled, planting a hot, unwanted kiss on Deidara's lips. Deidara kicked as hard as he could into the boy's groin, but the boy didn't move. He was set on making his mark, so that Sasori would never fuck around with him again.
His clammy, sweaty hands edged their way up Deidara's shirt, and Sasori watched helplessly as his angel fell. Deidara's eyes went pale, and he stopped screaming. It would just waste energy. He'd been in this situation before, years before, and he knew that the best thing he could do would be to block out what was happening.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, resigning himself to his fate.
Horrible, unwanted feelings, his body responding but him not wanting it to; Think about other things. It's happening to someone else. It'll be over soon. Large, awkward hands feeling their way around, hearing Sasori's muffled cries.
"This is disgusting isn't it?" the boy growled again, smirking, "this is what you and your faggot boyfriend do, isn't it? It's no different."
Deidara lowered his eyes, and stared coldly. He wasn't going to scream for help. He wasn't going to loose every last ounce of dignity. He'd live. He'd survive, as he had before.
Sasori madly shook his head as the larger boy edged his hand towards Deidara's zipper, and Deidara made one last attempt at escape by kicking out at his attacker.
Sasori closed his eyes and wished it all away. Just as he did, he heard a loud thud.
"I am not in the fucking mood for you people."
Hero-kun… Deidara was slumped on the ground, and his attacker was next to him, cowering away from the tall, dark boy.
"Do you want me to repeat myself?" Itachi growled coldly, "I said I'm not in the fucking mood. Now get lost."
The trio instantly backed away, the floored bully pathetically trying to scramble to his feet.
Itachi smirked; satisfied with the effect he had on the bully, and motioned for Sasori and Deidara to follow him as he walked out of the double doors and towards the field.
It was cold today, and it looked like it was going to rain. Sasori sighed, thinking he should've worn something warmer. That morning, the sky had been beautiful, clear. Now rain clouds loomed ahead, and all Sasori wanted to do was go back to his flat, and hide himself and Deidara away from the world.
Itachi had carried Deidara some of the way towards the bridge, Deidara still shaken from his earlier experience. Sasori wanted to help, but when he'd tried, the pain was excruciating in his stomach, and he had dropped to his knees.
Deidara flinched and shook his head. He wanted to be put down, and Itachi did so, not letting go until Deidara was steady on his feet.
Sasori gently touched Deidara's arm to reassure him that everything was going to be okay, and Deidara flinched. Sasori snatched his hand away as if he'd touched acid, and sighed. He knew Deidara would take a long time to get over this, but couldn't understand why he'd let Itachi carry him with no problem.
Itachi unzipped his rucksack as they reached the tall, thick grass, and pulled out a small bottle containing green liquid.
Deidara looked questioningly at the bottle, as did Sasori.
Itachi noticed the eyes on the liquid, and smiled weakly. "Absinthe," he said simply, and unscrewed the cap. His face tightened slightly as the liquid made its way into his mouth and down his throat. It was hot. It burned.
Deidara watched as Itachi sighed, and looked at the half empty bottle. He seemed immune to it's effects. "Are you okay, Hero-kun?" Deidara murmured.
Itachi noted the genuine concern in Deidara's voice. He thought it was strange. They'd known each other not even two full days, and already Deidara seemed to care about him and his feelings.
He smiled weakly, appreciating the tingle of emotion that he hadn't felt for so long. The people who he called "friends" were merely a group he stayed with for safety.
They weren't concerned about his feelings. They didn't notice when he felt bad, and they didn't care when they did. And yet, this small blond boy talked to him like he'd known him years, telling him about his day, asking if he was okay…
"I'm fine, Dei-kun," he said, looking to the boy. He was a mess. His blond hair was ragged, and his shirt had been ripped. He had a bruise that was slowly darkening on either side of his throat where the boy had pushed his thumbs deep into his neck. It was when he noticed that, that a flash of anger overcame him, and then, concern. "Are you?"
Deidara nodded, and brushed his hair out of his eyes. The material that had held his hair up had been lost in the struggle, and his blond, lower back length hair now fell in a mess of waves around his face. The weather was getting worse, and a wind had picked up, meaning Deidara had to fight to keep his hair out of his face.
Sasori watched the exchange between the two, and the unusual concern that Itachi had shown towards Deidara. The Itachi he'd seen was cold. Sasori had only seen one flicker of emotion from Itachi, when he started to talk about his past.
Sasori sighed. His Dei-kun flinched when he had touched his arm. All he wanted was to be able to talk to him, to hold him and let him know everything was okay. But he knew he couldn't, and he felt powerless. He couldn't shift the paranoia that was stemming in his head. Dei-kun had flinched. Sasori understood that Deidara would be jumpy after what had happened, but he'd been fine… in Itachi's arms. Sasori couldn't erase that thought from his head. Why be fine with a stranger? Why not him?
The ground was now being spotted with rain. The sky was about to open up and unleash a storm.
Deidara was glad of the cool water lightly touching his skin. He felt dirty, his head was all over the place. The night before… was perfect. Yet the boy had made it seem disgusting, wrong.
He lowered his eyes, which were now glassy with tears, to the ground. His trainers had blood on them, and as he touched his face he realized his lip had been bleeding.
It hadn't bled from the punch of the larger boy, but from his teeth. He'd been so scared, and had bitten into his lip as hard as he could trying not to scream.
As Sasori edged closer to him, guilt panged in his stomach. He didn't mean to flinch, didn't mean to back away. But as Sasori gently put his arm around Deidara's shoulder, as he did many times before, Deidara's body tensed.
Deidara sighed, and looked at Sasori. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and tried to make his body un-tense. He wasn't the only one who needed to be held, and he slowly put his arm around Sasori's waist.
Sasori smiled weakly. He knew how much it was going to take for Deidara to be okay, and he also knew how much it had took for Deidara to not freak out and push him away.
"It's okay Dei-chan. Just tell me if something doesn't feel right."
Itachi looked over his shoulder at the two. Deidara had had it rough. Itachi looked forward, and arched his shoulders back slightly to crunch his shoulder blades. When he'd lived at home, he'd been lectured daily about that being bad for him. But oh well, he thought. Old habits die hard.
"Looks like the party's started without us," Itachi proclaimed loudly, and laughed slightly.
Sasori thought it was more of a drunken cackle, and realized that while he'd been paying attention to Deidara, Itachi had drank the rest of the small bottle, and had started on another.
"You think we'd wait for you bitches to turn up and steal our gear?" Hidan groaned. He was lying on the ground, and Kakuzu was sitting cross legged next to him, with a pile of twigs in his lap.
"What's with the twigs?" Itachi asked, bemused by the scene, "he been taking something he shouldn't…again?"
Kakuzu rolled his eyes, and groaned and Hidan made a lunge for the pile of twigs. "He's been taking something alright. Been trying to sacrifice himself to the Gods. All Morning. With twigs."
Hidan at that point successfully grabbed a twig, and aimed it at his chest as Kakuzu snatched it off him and slapped him around the forehead.
"Fuck you Kakuzu…" Hidan started, but as he turned to his friend, his eyes widened and his skin went at least three shades paler than usual. "…Oh, my God… Satan?" Hidan started to back away, and smashed into Kisame, who raised his eyebrows and looked unimpressed as Hidan wailed into his lap.
"Hallucinogens?" Itachi asked, raising his eyebrow.
Sasori frowned; Itachi seemed to know more about drugs than he was letting on. He watched as Itachi walked up to Kisame and slid down the wall, into the same half lying position he was in when they had talked before.
He watched as Deidara walked forward, making the climb up to the bridge seem as easy as walking on flat ground. He stood in front of the group, and Sasori watched as his eyes widened at the skyline view. He stepped over Hidan, who was now flailing his arms into Kisame's chest as Kisame's face grew more and more annoyed.
Deidara was still quiet, and hadn't said anything since apologizing to Sasori. Sasori walked over to him, and sat on the ledge where Deidara was perched.
Deidara leant back on the palms of his hands, and let his legs fall over the edge of the ledge and dangle a few feet above the lake that splashed more viciously than Sasori's last visit here.
Sasori wrapped his arm around Deidara, who was starting to shiver as the rain blanketed him. He looked up to the sky, which was unusually dark for a morning, and sighed heavily. It was almost black, and all they had for cover was a crumbling, unstable looking old bridge, and Sasori's thin jacket between them.
Sasori took off his jacket, and wrapped it around his and Deidara's shoulders. "I wanted to show you this before," he murmured, squeezing Deidara's shoulders to reassure him that everything was okay.
"When I skipped class with Itachi, the first thing I thought of when I saw the skyline was how much you'd love it."
Deidara smiled weakly at Sasori, and leant his head on Sasori's shoulder. He was starting to relax, and regain his old confidence. He just needed time.
Itachi watched as Sasori pointed out landmarks on the skyline. The pair were getting the worst of the rain by sitting on the ledge, but they seemed happy enough.
He sighed as Sasori wrapped his coat around his and Deidara's shoulders, and remembered when he had someone to care about.
Oh fuck it… a voice in his head thought. who needs love anyway?
He smiled half heartedly at the thought, as another voice argued back that he needed it. He shrugged off the thoughts, and plastered a grin on his face. It was fun time.
He reached into his rucksack, and placed down paper, tobacco and a clear plastic bag with small grassy chunks of cannabis in it. He smiled; it was time to forget.
He rolled up the parts, leant back, and lit. He inhaled, and closed his eyes contentedly as the familiar taste hit the back of his throat.
Kisame tutted and Itachi smiled. The only person in the group to have a problem with his habit was Kisame. It wasn't as if this was the hardest drug he'd took either, but Kisame tutted all the same.
Itachi opened his eyes and rolled them. "Problem, mother?"
Kisame smirked, and tapped Itachi on the side of his face. "It's bad for you Itachi, it'll drive you mad."
Itachi smiled weakly, and tapped Kisame back, on his arm, "Correction, dear Kisame. It's what keeps me sane."
Sasori and Deidara turned slightly and watched as Itachi grinned at his friend and pushed himself up, making funny faces and noises as he did, joking that he was going mad that very second.
Kisame groaned, and Itachi grinned at him and ruffled his hair. He had a habit of doing that to try and cheer people up.
When he lived at home, before his parents found out about his involvement with gangs, and the lifestyle that went with it, he'd ruffle his little brother's hair up a lot, because as he grew up it made him giggle. He missed Sasuke… He made a mental note to go and see him as soon as he could.
"You should be drinking, Sir Misery," Itachi said, while thinking Oh my God… Did I just call Kisame Sir Misery?! "Here."
Itachi reached into his rucksack again, and picked out another small bottle, with dark green liquid, "This'll make you happy. It's borderline poison."
Kisame's eyes widened. "Pfft," Itachi grunted, "Pass it around. You don't have to drink it all. We all know you can't handle your drink for shit."
Kisame raised his eyebrow at Itachi's remark, but decided to let it go. Itachi had probably been drinking on the way to the bridge, and the drugs were probably going strong in his system too.
"Fine..." Kisame said, tipping the small bottle back. As he did, Itachi clapped. He smirked slightly. This was too easy. Kakuzu was occupied with controlling Hidan, the lovebirds only had eyes for each other, and Itachi hadn't even got a clue what day it was.
Nobody noticed that the volume of the liquid didn't decrease. Nobody noticed Kisame's tongue blocking the opening of the bottle, so the alcohol didn't flow into his mouth.
He put the bottle to the side facing away from Itachi, and looked at his friend as he tipped the contents of the bottle onto the floor beside him. He checked out of the corner of his eye, but nobody would tell any difference. The floor was soaked by the rain anyway. He even faked a wince as the non-existent alcohol flowed down his throat.
Itachi's eyes widened. "Aah, you drank it all!" He applauded Kisame again. He seemed pleased with Kisame, and lay back down, stretching as he did and crunching the base of his spine.
They all stayed relatively still after that. Hidan had wondered off, and was sitting discussing the pros and cons of drug pushing with a tree, and made occasional lunges for a fresh twig from Kakuzu, who quickly stopped him by slapping his wrist.
Sasori and Deidara stayed wrapped in Sasori's coat, but had moved away from the opening of the bridge and now leant against the wall, sheltered from the rain, which was pouring faster and heavier by the minute.
"Ugh…" Kisame grumbled, rubbing his head. Itachi got up slowly, and tilted his head questioningly at his friend. "The alcohol," Kisame murmured, looking directly at Itachi, "It's really gone to my head."
"Oh, I'm sorry Kisame-kun," Itachi slurred. Everything was starting to rush to his head now. He placed his hand on Kisame's forehead, and stroked it as softly as he could.
"Itachi…" Kisame said, gently taking Itachi's hand and moving it away from his forehead, "Could you come walk with me? I need to walk this off."
Itachi nodded instantly, his head bobbing forward heavily as he did, "Will do."
As he got up, he slipped on the damp stone under his feet, and landed with a thud back on the floor.
"Fucking rocks…" He grumbled to himself as Kisame helped him up.
They started walking away from the group, Kisame leading Itachi. As they went down the rocks and towards the overgrown grass, Itachi cursed as he stumbled. Kisame held his arm and helped him down.
"You're so nice to me Kisame-kun," Itachi slurred, and grinned up at his blue haired friend.
Kisame grunted, and ignored the voice in his head that said. what the fuck are you doing… as he lead Itachi deeper into the long grass.
"Where're we going, Kisame-kun?" Itachi asked, looking around at the grass as if it were the most interesting thing he'd seen in his life. He trailed slightly behind Kisame, his fingers brushing the top of the grass as he walked through it, and found it odd that Kisame was still holding onto his arm.
Kisame didn't react to his question. Itachi brushed it off as the alcohol in his system; he himself couldn't think clearly either. He looked questioningly at Kisame's hand roughly gripping his arm, and frowned, stumbling after his friend.
Kisame stopped abruptly and breathed out heavily, turning to Itachi. "Itachi…" he murmured softly, lifting his hand to Itachi's face, "You're so beautiful." Confusion clouded Itachi's face as Kisame stroked his face gently with his hand, and traced his finger lightly down the scar that ran from Itachi's eye down to his lower cheek.
Slowly, Kisame moved closer, and pulled Itachi's face closer to his own. His lips parted, and were only millimetres away from Itachi's. He looked deep into Itachi's startled, crimson eyes, and noted how flawless Itachi actually was. He'd never been this close to the Uchiha boy, but had wished it many times. He wanted him, bad. His lips brushed against Itachi's.
Itachi had a look that was hard to place. Aesthetically, he was very handsome, very pretty. He had two symmetrical scars that started just under the inner corner of his eyes, and ended in a curve towards his lower cheekbone.
He was rough, raw, but still had a sense of fragility to him. The kind of guy Kisame wanted. Somebody that, of course, he could overpower easily if needed, Kisame thought with a smirk. He liked to be the one in control.
Itachi's eyes widened as he realised what Kisame was about to do. He stumbled backwards, and pushed Kisame away from him as far as he could.
"Kisame, what the fuck?!" he cried, horrified by what his friend had tried to do.
Kisame sighed heavily, and shook his head, ignoring Itachi's outburst.
"Just…let me kiss you Itachi," he murmured, his voice trailing off as he stared at Itachi again, reaching for his dark haired friend's head. "I…love you. Just relax, please…"
Itachi shook his head violently, backing away as quickly as he could from Kisame. Kisame advanced faster than Itachi could move, and as the dark haired boy lost his footing, he cursed as he landed with a thud on the muddy surface below him.
Kisame watched as the situation turned to his advantage, and leapt on Itachi, pinning him to the ground by his wrists. He straddled him, putting his full weight onto Itachi's stomach, making sure Itachi couldn't escape.
Itachi struggled, mud plastering his clothes and face. "Kisame, stop…" he gasped, shaking from the cold, and from the powerlessness he felt being pinned underneath the much larger boy. Kisame stared into Itachi's eyes, but didn't move.
"Kisame, I'm sorry, I…I don't like you in that way…Kisame, get off m-"
"Itachi" Kisame growled, and pushed Itachi's wrists further into the mud, "You should really stop struggling. You'll need all of your energy in a moment."
Itachi's eyes widened, through shock at what his friend had just said, and through the pain that was now searing through his wrists.
Itachi's breathing became erratic, uncontrolled. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, mixed with alcohol, drugs and fear.
"Kisame…" he said quietly, trying to control the shaking in his voice. He sounded scared. He was never scared, and winced at how pathetic he must look, lying in the mud, unable to defend himself and pleading for freedom.
Kisame ignored him, and stroked Itachi's forehead. He slid his hands through Itachi's dark hair, strands slipping through his fingers like silk. He made his hand into a fist and clenched it. Itachi flinched as his hair was pulled violently.
They were lying together, in high grass, in the mud… No one could find them if they didn't want to be found…And Kisame didn't want them to be found. Kisame smirked again, and positioned himself on top of Itachi, pushing his muscular waist into the raven haired boy's smaller, more fragile one.
"We're gonna have so much fun…" Kisame growled, kissing Itachi's neck. Itachi struggled again, but it was no use. He felt sick as he smelt Kisame's hot, foul breath blanketing his face.
"Kisa-" Itachi shouted, anger consuming him as he realised his "friend" wasn't going to give up. Before he could say more, Kisame pushed his lips aggressively against his and tried to kiss him. Itachi choked, Kisame's kiss wasn't gentle… It was like a shark wanting to take a bite out of someone.
Itachi winced, feeling warm, metallic tasting liquid seeping from his tongue. He was going to black out. He couldn't. He felt Kisame's tongue enter his mouth, and tried to yell, his voice coming out as a distorted muffle due to the larger boy crushing his chest with his weight.
He was scared. He had never been this scared in his life. His best friend, the one person in the world that he had, wanted something from him that he couldn't give. His heart was meant for another.
If it had been somebody else doing this, he could have easily broken away, but confusion, mixed with the drugs that were snaking their way through his system, meant he couldn't do anything. His mind was rushing; he needed to think of a way to escape, but how? Kisame had completely overpowered him.
As Kisame's tongue rolled around Itachi's mouth, Itachi growled. Fuck this…he thought, biting down as hard as he could on Kisame's tongue. Kisame yelped, and jumped up, blood pouring from his mouth and down his chin.
Itachi saw his chance to get away, and tried to push himself up so that he could run. He eased up quickly, and his wrists crunched. "Shit!" Itachi winced; falling back down as his arms completely gave way.
Kisame watched as the Uchiha boy tried to push himself up again, his eyes watering as the pain in his wrists heightened.
Itachi felt a shooting pain through his cheekbone. Kisame had hit him with his fist, hard. Blood flooded back into his mouth, and he spluttered as he swallowed some of the liquid.
Kisame couldn't let him go.
"Fuck you Kisame! I… I thought you were my friend!" Itachi wheezed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Kisame lunged at Itachi, and was overpowering him again in seconds. They splashed in the mud, Itachi screamed at the top of his lungs and Kisame struggling to hold onto the wild boy, who was thrashing at him, biting, kicking, and doing everything within his power to get away. Adrenaline was shooting through Itachi's body, and his heart thudded in his throat.
With all the power he could muster, Itachi kneed Kisame in the groin and pushed him away, instantly launching his way out of the blue haired teen's grip.
"Itachi, wait!" Kisame yelled breathlessly, watching as Itachi crawled away desperately through the mud and struggled up, almost slipping again.
"FUCK YOU!" Itachi screamed as he started to run away through the grass.
Itachi's heart pounded so hard that it hurt his chest. His face was a mess of blood, mud and sweat, and he knew he was going to black out soon.
He knew Kisame wouldn't follow him; not that that was any comfort. Kisame knew Itachi was the faster one – it had always been this way. Kisame had the muscles, Itachi the speed. Itachi sped through the grass until he couldn't see Kisame. He couldn't see the bridge either, and his head span with a mixture of emotions.
He didn't know where he was, and he didn't care. He just needed to get away.
Rain splashed down heavier than before, and Itachi looked up to the darkened sky. Tears escaped from the corners of his eyes, and streaked down his face. His hair was matted, caked with blood and dirt. His wrists were bruised and the ends of his fingers were numb from the bitter cold.
He rolled down his shirt sleeves so that his wrists were covered. Fuck was he going to look weak. He wiped the tears away from his face with his shirt sleeve, and grimaced.
The drugs had amplified his emotions, and he felt as though he was either going to break out into tears, or explode with anger. He wanted to choose anger. He ran his hands through his matted hair as the rain splashed down onto his bruised, bloody face, cooling him as blood mixed with unwanted tears.
Kisame crawled up and stared at the path that Itachi had created as he had disappeared through the grass. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh as he heard the soft rumble of thunder and the rain pelted down, almost attacking him. He could never get Itachi now; his dark haired love had made it clear he didn't want him.
He sniffed and wiped the mud away from his face, letting the rain wash away the reminders of the struggle. His yellow eyes narrowed menacingly, and he clenched his fists. He didn't like to loose, and he never did.
"I want you Itachi," he growled, "So I'll fucking have you."
Kisame smirked as played out his plans in his head. He would make Itachi want him too. This was far from over. All he had to do was regain his trust, strike again… and make sure he didn't escape next time. All Itachi could do then is give in, he wouldn't have a choice.
Kisame straightened his clothing out, and brushed the last bits of mud out of his hair with his fingers. He waited as the heavy rain washed away the blood that masked his chin.
He decided he would return back to the group, and act like Itachi was being stupid and running away because of the drugs he'd loaded into his system.
"Why does this have to happen to me…?" Itachi whispered softly to himself as he trudged through the grass. He had choked back tears that had threatened appearance, and besides feeling nauseous from the punch to the side of his face, he was starting to calm down.
He was good at pretending everything was fine, even when drugs consumed him. Uchiha Itachi never showed his pain, his tears, because he wasn't weak. Emotion was for the weak.
He paused, and sat in the mud. His clothes were covered in dirt anyway, so he might as well be comfortable while he figured out what the fuck he was going to do. He pulled his knees up to his chin, and shuddered. What if he hadn't got away…? Would Kisame… Itachi shook his head, and buried his head in his hands. "Emotions are for the weak," he murmured, rocking slightly in the cold, "I'm not fucking weak!" He screamed the last part of his sentence, and gripped his head tightly, as if he were trying to claw the memories of the incident out of his mind.
Kisame would still be wondering round somewhere in the thick, muddy grass… Itachi didn't want to chance another encounter with him. He couldn't go into school; they would smell the alcohol on his breath and the marijuana in his clothes.
He gingerly touched his cheek. "Fuck," he winced, examining his hand, which now had spots of blood trickling down it.
He wiped his hand down his dark trousers, the blood blending in with the mud and rain that saturated his clothes.
Maybe… it was best if he went back to the group. Acted normal; told them he'd slipped in the mud and bruised his face on a rock or… something. God, that sounded lame, he sighed.
He couldn't think of any other explanation, and besides, it was hardly unbelievable that he'd lost his footing with everything he'd pumped into his body throughout the morning.
He'd have to go back, he decided. It would seem weird if he just disappeared, and people would ask questions. He didn't want them to know what had happened. He didn't want anybody to know what had happened, he was ashamed.
He needed to look strong; capable of protecting himself. If he couldn't protect himself, then how the hell could he protect others?
There was one thing that was certain. If he didn't go back, he'd look weak. He couldn't stand for that. Uchiha Itachi was not weak.