Okay, this chapter's short, I know. But I AM SWAMPED. Ugh. ANd I had to end it, b/c I was just dragging it out and well, ya'll should know how that is. Anyway, here it is, enjoy! review!!!

Disclaimer: Duh

Luv much

Nicola

Chapter Four: Running Away

When I came to, I found myself lying in my bed, the curtains drawn closed, and the lights off. It was dark, the kind of dark you get in the middle of the night, so naturally I assumed that it was around midnight or the early hours of the morning. In the darkened bedroom, I started wondering if this was what it would be like when I lost my eyesight. No, wait, I couldn't think that way. Never. I wasn't going to go blind. I was just going to be an average ninja with average eyes, just like everyone else. Yes, that's what I was going to do. Ignore what Sakura had claimed was plaguing my vision, ignore the sad looks I was bound to get, ignore the sympathy everyone was probably going to offer. They didn't know the truth; they didn't understand that it was impossible for me to go blind, because they didn't know my eyes like I did.

I rolled off my bed, my feet hitting the cold floor and making me shudder at the chill. My room was exactly as it had been when I'd dashed inside in a blind rage. Except…my desk was pushed into the middle of the room, leaving my door open for someone to come right in. Who had done that? Nothing in my memories offered an answer, so I forgot the little question for the moment and padded to the door. If it was nighttime, then everyone would be asleep, and sitting on the roof would be totally acceptable. As long as I didn't get caught.

I opened the door as quietly as possible, crept down the hallway on my tiptoes, and slipped out onto the back deck. One jump and I was on the roof, swaying a little unsteadily before I sat down. I hugged my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees, and stared out at the vast, empty Uchiha district. All of the people who had died, all of those poor, innocent people…and they'd all been killed at the hands of my uncle, although I couldn't really refer to him as an uncle. He was just another person who was related to me who had the Sharingan, and had he known I existed, would probably look down on me just like his brother did.

Heaving a sigh, I turned my gaze upwards to the brightly shimmering starts, wondering where Mom was right now. She had left for her mission a day ago, and I desperately wished she was with me, sitting her with her arm around me like she usually did when I was upset. Whenever Dad got onto me about some chore I forgot to do or didn't complete quiet to his standards, she always comforted me and told me I was just perfect the way I was. But she'd never mentioned the Sharingan.

Mom never talked about my Sharingan problems, never spoke of how that made me different. Maybe it was because, in her eyes, I wasn't different. Because to her, I was still an Uchiha, still her daughter, still just as wonderful as they day I'd been born. But in a family made up of men with the Sharingan, and one extremely powerful woman, Mom's comments did little to make me feel any better.

I heard someone next to me clear their throat, nearly making me jump out of my skin, and I flipped my head around to see who it was. Light brown hair billowing around her face in the cool nighttime breeze, hazel eyes warm and comforting, Mom sat next to me on the roof, one leg bent, the other stretched out in front of her. She smiled kindly at me and placed a calming hand on my arm.

"Relax, it's just me," she said, and her voice was like a lullaby, soothing my jittery and upset nerves. I found myself smiling pitifully back.

And then, I was collapsing. I inched over to my Mommy and buried my face in her shoulder, feeling the tears coming on again. She pulled me into her lap, rubbing my back and rocking me back and forth. I didn't know when she'd gotten home, but probably she'd been down to visit Dad and he'd told her about my Sharingan. And the possible blindness that was not going to happen to me.

We sat there for the longest, me weeping my little heart out and uttering words that were more like the mewing sounds a cat makes. The only pieces I could decipher (and that was pretty pathetic, considering I was the one cat-mew-talking) were something along the lines of "Mama" and "Daddy" and "Sharingan," which pretty much explained my situation, although I didn't doubt Mom could understand everything I was saying.

Once my good sob was over, I sniffled and wiped my face, embarrassed to even look my Mom in the eyes. But she lifted my chin up and made me. I flushed, but it was well-hidden by my already splotchy cheeks.

"Mikoto," Mom began slowly, her eyes serious and loving, her mouth in a straight line. There was no sign of humor on her face. "You are not going to be disregarded just because you don't have the Sharingan. We'll get through this as a family, okay?"
I heard something else behind her words, something that had me worried. I loved my Mom more than anything on this planet, and I greatly respected her opinion. But when she spoke like this, with a passion I only heard whenever we were discussing Konoha or family, it made me very, very uneasy. Her voice would get mildly husky, and her eyes would either take on a far-off look to them (when discussing Konoha) or they would bore seriously into whomever she was talking to (about family, of course). Right now, those hazel eyes of hers were looking so hard into mine I almost felt the pressure.

"I know, Mom," I whispered, not really believing the words as I said them. Not only was Mom talking about my Sharingan, she was talking about the blindness. And I was not going blind, there was just no way I was.

Mom pursed her lips. "I hope you do." Then she smiled unexpectedly and started getting to her feet, forcing me to stand, too. "Come on. It's almost time for your brother to get up. You might as well help me fix breakfast or something."

Busy work, I thought bitterly as I jumped down onto the deck with Mom and walked into the kitchen. Mom surveyed the kitchen with her hands on her hips, her lips pursed in disappointment. Of course, after my well-earned breakdown last night, neither of the two men in the house had done the dishes, cleaned up the counters, or anything, so the entire kitchen was a complete mess. Dirty bowls, plates, cups, and silverware were stacked up rather high, and I could even see some clean dishes mixed in there. Crumbs, a few dried up spots of juice, and even a smudge of ketchup littered the counter in a sad, disappointing mess.

Mom's lips formed a silent "wow" while I looked around for a dishrag. There it was! But…it was at the bottom of the stack of dishes. I held my hand on the stack of plates and whatnot while I gently tugged the rag out from under them. I ignored the persistent stabbing pain in my chest, rubbing the dirty dishes, picking off crusty food from their surfaces, hoping that mindless work would help keep me from thinking about my current situation.

I vaguely heard Mom muttering about the counters and the floor that hadn't been swept, but it wasn't anything that really concerned me personally, and I was way too sucked into my own thoughts.

But I didn't have much time to wallow in my sorrow, because the moment I put the partially-cleaned dish into the other side of the sink for soaking, two things happened at once. Itake walked into the kitchen twirling a kunai around his finger, and someone knocked on the front door. Mom looked up at the knocking, probably wondering who would be coming to visit so early in the morning. The sun was just starting to creep up, and if Itake was only now coming out of his room, it was really early.

Mom shrugged her shoulder, and I sighed. That meant that I was going to have to get the door. I trudged unwillingly through the living room and down the little hall that led to the front entrance to our house. There wasn't a peep hole, and even if there was I wouldn't use it. We were shinobi, and we could certainly protect ourselves from any potential intruder.

I slowly opened the door, hoping that it wasn't someone I knew, because my eyes were all red and puffy from crying myself to sleep and weeping on my Mom's shoulder. To my disappointment (my great disappointment), there stood Arashi, in all of his handsome ANBU glory, his hand on his little brother's shoulder. Soma was looking sheepishly at his feet, shuffling them around on the front porch. I licked my lips nervously and rubbed the back of my neck. I hated any sort of confrontation.

Arashi squeezed Soma's shoulder, hard, and Soma looked up. His green eyes were apologetic and wary, while Arashi's were calm and strong. I met Soma's gaze for a split second, turned my eyes back to Arashi, and silently asked him what the hell he thought he was doing.

"We were stopping by for a visit," Arashi said smoothly, shaking his brother's shoulder. "You know, to offer our hellos and consolations."

I bristled. They didn't need to come and say how sorry they were that I wasn't going to have the Sharingan. I didn't need to hear how I could still make it as a Jounin and be a halfway decent ninja without the Sharingan. I knew the truth, and it would sting ten times worse if I had to hear it from my best friend.

"Um, come on in then, I guess." I held the door open, and closed it behind them as they took off their shoes. They walked into the living room, me tagging along behind, and Arashi hollered a greeting to Mom, who yelled welcomingly back. I gestured toward the couch, and while Arashi flopped down comfortably on the sofa, Soma took his time and sat down gingerly. I might not have had the Sharingan, but I could still tell when someone was nervous.

I sat on the chair—Dad's chair, but he wasn't up, so I wouldn't have to hear him holler about it—and swallowed hard. My mind was already whirring. It wasn't helping with Arashi and Soma sitting there next to me. Soma and I had argued yesterday, and we hadn't made up. A large part of me wished we would, but a more obstinate part refused to make amends with anyone who had the audacity to totally blow me off like Soma had.

My teeth gritted together, and my fists clenched, all on their own. I guess my mind was too numb to tell my body what to do, so it had just responded to the nerves coursing through my veins. I swallowed hard again, ran my hand over my puffy eyes, and cleared my throat.

"So…what's up?" I asked as casually as I could.

"Nothing much," Arashi replied, not-so-subtly nudging Soma with his elbow. Soma rubbed his ribs and glared. "We were just stopping by. Mom told us what happened and all, so we figured you could use some friends. Soma knew that your mother wasn't home, and everyone knows how unaffectionate your dad is." Arashi shrugged one shoulder. "It seemed like a good idea. Right, Soma?" He nudged his little brother, whose glare only intensified. Arashi scoffed. "It was Soma's idea, but he's too much of a chicken to admit it." Arashi stood, stretched, and ruffled Soma's hair. He glanced around the room, obviously looking for Itake, and I pointed towards the backyard. He grinned, gave me thumbs up, and left me alone with his little brother.

Great. I stared stonily in Soma's general direction, not meeting his eyes. He didn't deserve the kind of respect given when one met another's eyes. He was a complete and total jerk. Just because I hadn't wanted to train that day didn't mean he should've been such a you-know-what.

I blew through my lips; all of my anger sagging to the bottom of my feet as I mistakenly looked at that handsome face. I was taking this so far out of proportion. Soma didn't deserve my hatred, although he did deserve a good whack on the back of the head. Besides, looking into those green eyes, beautiful green eyes, made me want to melt. They were so apologetic it was like staring into the face of a tiny little puppy who knew he'd done wrong and wanted to cuddle and make it up to you. Oh, it sent my heart beating rapidly, and I let a smile creep over my face.

"I'm so sorry, Mikoto," Soma said in a voice barely above a whisper. It was a good thing my hearing was great, or else I wouldn't have heard him. At his words, I could feel the lump rising in my throat, and feel the tears brimming behind my eyes. I took a shaky breath, and was unable to resist when Soma stood up and held his arms open. I flew into his chest, weeping for the second time that morning into someone's shoulder. Well, I didn't quite reach his shoulder, but it was still the same.

He held me, rubbed my back, and didn't say a word, just let me cry. I hadn't thought I'd had any tears left, but apparently I did, because when I finally pulled back, his shirt was soaked where my head had been. I smiled sheepishly, feeling stupid. There was no reason for me to cry, right? No, other than the fact that I had no Sharingan, that my Dad hated me, and that I was never going to become the great ninja I'd been brought up to be. Soma wasn't smiling, though.

His green eyes were sad and looked full of tears he wouldn't let spill over. His face was twisted into misery and pity, which stung, because I hated to be pitied by anyone. He leaned forward and down a little bit and kissed my forehead. Normally, this gesture would've sent my heart soaring into the skies, but at the present moment, in the present situation, I really, really, really just wanted to crawl into a hole and die until someone came up with a way to give me the Sharingan.

He pulled me into another hug, pressing me against his wet shirt. I sighed, relaxing. For the moment, wrapped in Soma's arms, I could forget about the strangled relationship between my father and myself, forget that I was not going to have the special ability hereditary in my clan, forget that I was supposed to be going blind. But it all came running back to me the second I stepped back from him.

I sighed heavily. "Thanks, Soma."

"No problem," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. I cleared my throat, bounced on the balls of my feet, and shot a glance at the kitchen. Where was Mom? Still cooking, or cleaning, or something like that, probably, but I really needed her to come out here and help me. I wasn't cut out for this sort of stuff, all this intimate stuff.

"Uhh…wanna stay for breakfast?" I asked, trying to find something to distract myself from the annoying flutters in my stomach. Soma shrugged, so I led the way into the kitchen, where Mom had already set out places for Soma and his brother. He sat down at the table, smiling a greeting to Mom, who grinned in return.

I took my place next to Soma and fidgeted, wringing my hands together and twiddling my thumbs. And it bothered me. I had never before been nervous around Soma or Itake—they were like family to me, since I'd grown up around them. Soma was my best friend, and there was no reason for me to be jittery when he was in the room, you know, other than my hopefully unobvious crush on him. But that was it! Nothing else, and normally I could control the girly feelings in my chest.

While Soma chatted it up with Mom, talking about something I was clueless about (or I just didn't want to hear), I looked out the window. I could see Itake and Arashi sparring outside, their moves perfectly choreographed to each other. Itake punched, Arashi dodged, rebounded with a kick, Itake twisted in the air away from it, and doubled back with some shuriken expertly aimed and tossed. The way they moved and sparred, like it was an actual battle, made me envious. Every time I'd tried to spar with someone, I could never get into it the way everyone else did. It just didn't feel right, didn't feel like the real thing. Others could focus and make themselves imagine it was a battle for their lives, but I couldn't. To me, it was like playing ninja as a kid. There was no real point to it, and there was no danger. No reason to fight like your life was at stake, or the lives of your friends.

Itake and Arashi stopped sparring, Arashi having pinned my older brother down on the ground. Itake punched his friend on the shoulder, and Arashi chuckled, returning the gesture. He held out his hand and helped Itake up, who apparently challenged him to a race. I watched as they sprinted full-fledged to the house, at their top speeds. It wasn't but two seconds before they reached the door and flung it open, chuckling, slapping each other on the back. I look on in envy.

Arashi and Itake were the best of friends, always had been. Soma and I, being the younger siblings of the pair and always forced to tag along, inevitably became great friends. But we didn't have the same relationship. Arashi and Itake were like brothers from another mother, as they attempted to refer to it. They shared everything, thought alike, never argued, joined the same teams, got the same grades, and had a friendly competitiveness between them. Soma and me? We had something totally different.

Soma and I were good friends, sure, best friends even. But we weren't like our older brothers. While Itake and Arashi enjoyed everything the same way, Soma and I shared different opinions on many things. For instance, he wanted to train every day for at least two hours, while I was content to take a day off here and there, which was why we'd gotten into an argument before. He liked spicy ramen—I preferred plain, non-hot noodles. He thought that the role of the Hokage should be kept in the family, and I always insisted it should go to the person who would best suit the position.

Sure, we hung out all the time and cared a lot for each other, but when you came right down to it, we were complete opposites on most concerns. And it made it worse that I had such a terrible crush on him, and that he was bound to be a great ninja while I was going to be stuck with lowly positions, like teaching at the academy or something. No greatness came to those who didn't possess great bloodlines and the traits of their bloodlines. Naruto and Sakura were amazing ninja—therefore, Arashi and Soma had inherited their determination, grit, and brains. Me? I'd gotten nothing. Maybe stubbornness from my mom, irritability from my dad, but nothing else. Just plain old boring Mikoto with nothing going for her other than a famous mama and a frightening daddy.

I sighed heavily, looking disdainfully at the plate full of food in front of me. I was so tired—I couldn't even register what was on the chinaware. It was blurry around the edges and looked a little yellow, or maybe brown. Whatever. I just needed sleep, as usual.

Arashi and Itake had already washed up and taken their seats and were gobbling up as much food as possible when Dad finally walked in.

The room suddenly hushed for a split second, then the two older boys' chatter broke the silence, Mom gave Dad a hug and a kiss (a real kiss that made me want to gag, really), Soma greeted him with a quick wave and a "hello," and I stayed quiet. Dad sat down across from me, next to Itake, and Mom sat down on his other side after bringing their two plates over. I watched my hand make my fork push my unrecognizable food around my plate, trying not to look up and have to face my Dad. But he cleared his throat, and Soma nudged me with his elbow, forcing me to glace at him.

He was staring at me, those black eyes focused on mine, with an unrecognizable expression. Mom gave him a quick look, her hazel eyes soft and warm, which probably meant that whatever expression he had on his face (since she could read him like a book) represented something good, not bad. Or maybe he was attempting to be sympathetic. Yeah, Dad, sympathetic? I don't think so. Even Itake was giving him funny looks.

I shifted uneasily as I met his steady gaze, and he pursed his lips.

"Are you okay, Mikoto?" he asked in this strange tone that I'd never heard him use before. "How are your eyes?"

Of course. Abrupt, as always. "Fine. Why?" I knew why—they were still living under the assumption that I was going blind, and going blind fast. Yeah, definitely not gonna happen. "I'm fine, Dad."

He shook his head. "No you're not. You're going to go blind, Mikoto, and you need to understand that. I don't care how upset you are about this and how far in denial you've already gone, but you're going to have to accept that you are going to be blind very, very soon and learn to live with it."

Everyone at the table was silent. This was a long, long speech for Dad, since we normally received an "Ah" or an "Un" in response, something we'd learned to interpret from age two. Dad was still staring at me, and I flinched at the hardness in his gaze. He wasn't going to be taking any crap today. I knew I had better listen to him and just fake it, because soon enough they would see that I was not going blind.

"Okay, Dad," I whispered.

"And don't you think about your abilities," he added, glaring now. "You're going to live just as normal as possible without your sight."

I was just about to nod when Itake muttered under his breath, "And her Sharingan."

"Itake!" Dad said loudly, but I'd already heard him. My big brother thought I was going to be a failure, too. My father already knew it, my mom was still encouraging me, but the two most important figures in my life had already written me off as a mistake, someone that would never get anywhere.

I stood up from the table, slammed my chair backwards, and headed for the kitchen door. Mom called after me, and I heard her stand up to come after me, and someone else did, too. I heard Dad's voice holler for me to come back and we'd talk this all out, but that wasn't going to happen. I wasn't going to stay long enough to hear it. Mustering up as much speed as I had, as much Uchiha nerve that ran in my useless veins, I darted off into the trees, hoping to put as long of a distance between myself and my family.

okie doke, there u have it, she's gone. Up and left to go on her own adventure, to deal with her quickly coming blindness. So...yah, I hope you enjoyed it. I'll update ASAP, and sine Thanksgiving is nxt week, I mght b abl 2. Oh, sorry, i was txting and typing. Lol. There I go again. I luv txt msng. Hahaha. Sorry, had to do that.

Anywho, REVIEW!

Luv much

nicola