An unauthorized sequel. Mea culpa.

Escalation

x

After a week, things had gone from bad to worse to freakishly bizarre.

Shisui narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. "You did not name the cat that."

Itachi appeared to be ignoring him, absorbed in the task of stroking said cat—Madara, he had named it Madara—behind the ear. After a moment, he said, "Perhaps it's just me, but I feel that he bears a certain resemblance to Great Uncle."

"In that they're both obscene sadists, yes," Shisui snapped. "What the hell is this? Why can't you be a normal person? What do you even need a cat for?"

"A pet can fulfill a person's needs in ways that even other people can't," Itachi said, in perfect seriousness.

"Oh really?" Shisui raised a challenging eyebrow. "Are you having sex with it?"

Itachi just gave him a mulish look. Shisui opened his mouth to further emphasize his point, but all that came out was a horrific sneeze.

Itachi frowned in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Shisui said immediately, forcing down the sniffles. "Seriously, I'm putting my foot down. Either the cat goes, or I'm cutting you off. What's it gonna be?"

Itachi actually seemed to consider it for a moment, which was when Shisui realized that the situation was dire. Any man who would trade in his regular source of carnality for a terrifically unattractive fur ball was clearly seeking an extended stay in the loony bin.

"Sometimes you can be so unreasonable, Shisui," Itachi said, with a put-upon air. He bent to pick up Madara, and trailed elegantly into the kitchen.

"Couch!" Shisui yelled after them. "For a week."

x

"Do you have to be this stubborn?" Hana asked with a distinct lack of sympathy. "Why don't you just tell him that you're allergic to cats?"

Shisui glared, and gently gave in to the urge to sneeze all over her turkey sandwich wrap. He momentarily felt bad about it, but Hana was doing something that looked suspiciously like copying calculus problem sets off of his legal pad, so he figured she had it coming.

"Because it's not manly," he groused, barely audible through his stuffy nose. Then again, there wasn't much that was manly about pouring antihistamines down your throat by the pints either. "I'm suffering a lot here. Don't you have anything nicer to say?"

"You lost that privilege when you dumped me for your cousin," Hana informed him.

Shisui sighed, rubbing his watering eyes. "It's so ironic. And to think we broke up because I was afraid you might one day replace me with one of those pound pups you love so much."

Hana pursed her lips in thought. "Well, I'll give you one piece of advice," she said finally. "Fight like a girl."

"If you mean withholding sex, I already tried that—"

"There's another way." Hana smirked wryly. "Come by my house after class."

x

With the fall of the evening, Shisui raced up the stairs to his apartment in elaborately victorious strides. The effect was somewhat mitigated by the incessant sneezing fits, but he was much too overcome with joy to care. Flinging open the door, he planted himself in the entrance and said, "So I've given this whole keeping a pet thing some further thought."

Itachi looked up from his book, immediately wary. "And?"

"And I've come to the conclusion that the only reason—" he made a disgusted face, "—the only reason Madara is so restless is because he's cooped up here all day without anyone to play with. Therefore—" he stepped away from the door, "—I've taken the liberty of bringing him a playmate."

On cue, a low, menacing growl filled the room. Madara the cat leapt away from the food dish and scampered onto the dining table, hissing in obvious fear.

"This," Shisui announced with great justice, "is Cujo."

x

Later that night, Shisui lay flat on the couch, sapped of all will to live. In the adjacent armchair, Itachi sat in complete silence with a shell-shocked expression on his face natively found on children from unsettled warzones.

Scattered around them were the detritus of their formerly spotless living room. It had taken nearly a year off of Shisui's life to enforce separation, but they had finally managed to sequester Cujo in the laundry room. Madara, for his part, was snoozing away in Itachi's lap with nary a care. Shisui mentally planned his slow, agonizing death by bathtub-drowning.

Itachi shot him a look brimming with accusatory huffiness. "Some of those books came from the library. Do you have any idea how much money I'll have to pay in fines?"

"Your books?" Shisui said incredulously. "What about my vinyl collection? I'm never going to find another original LP of Electric Ladyland again." He closed his eyes in bleak depression, and pinched his nose, feeling another sneeze coming on.

Itachi wordlessly handed him a Kleenex. "I'll do something about Madara, but you'll have to return Cujo to your classmate as well. An apartment is no place for a dog."

"Cujo's been through a lot in her life," Shisui argued. With a name like Cujo, he shouldn't have been terribly surprised. "She deserves a happy home."

"Happy is not an adjective that comes to mind when I think about our present situation," Itachi replied. Then he sighed, resigned, and said, "I'll call Mother tomorrow to see if she would be willing to take them both. There's plenty of space over there, and Sasuke's always wanted a dog."

"Oh thank God," Shisui muttered into his Kleenex. The door to the laundry room clicked open at that moment, and Cujo came bounding out, hopping onto the couch in one leap to curl up affectionately on top of Shisui. At least somebody in this madhouse was on his side.

"I gather that this means I'll be allowed back into the bedroom," Itachi ventured, an anxious note sneaking into his voice.

Shisui chuckled. "Oh, we'll see about that." From atop his stomach, Cujo barked cheerfully in agreement, and Shisui burst out laughing at the baleful look on Itachi's face.

x

end