10

The Start To A Great Journey

Part I

Sugar Storm - Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

Microscopic Polyangiitis.

Defined as the inflammation of the blood vessels. It's symptoms show through the organs; eye symptoms, and lung issues. Deadly Issues. But thankfully there was medication.

Itachi held the two medication bottles in his hand. This was what was going to save him. These 46 pills and 100mg of liquid. All of that time spent as a child, getting every test imaginable, waking up at night unable to breathe, and now after just seven hours he had an answer. One bottle contained Prednisone, small, round and white pills. The other was Rituximab, a liquid that was administered by a needle.

Who could imagine such small things held such power? Itachi rolled the Prednisone case in his hand, watching the pills fall over one another. Well, they wouldn't 'cure' him, but they'd put him in remission. Dr. Martin seemed confident that he had a good prognosis.

She mentioned that Itachi's case wasn't the worse she had seen, and that it would only be a matter of time before he began to feel better. His lungs would never be completely strong, but the attacks would stop.

Rest and relaxation. That was prescribed along with the medication. Itachi was getting lots of it, after five days in the hospital on bed rest. He was thankful that he was being discharged this afternoon, but wary of going home with Maria.

The visiting hours were 11 AM to 9 PM, and she stayed by his bedside for all of those hours. She would go home for the night, but always, always would be there in the morning, as soon as they would let her in. She brought him food, refusing to let him eat the "bleached grey taco's" that the nurses would try to bring him. She also brought him books and books, so the silence they were in for hours wouldn't be uncomfortable. She hadn't mentioned anything about the rejection, and Itachi was hoping she just wasn't waiting until they got home.

"Are you ready to go home?" Itachi lifted his eyes from the pill bottle to Maria, "Like, are you positive?"

"This is the third time you've asked me this."

Her brows furrowed together and a small pout formed on her face. "I want to make sure, what if next time we don't get to the hospital fast enough?" A hint of worry was on her tone, her body stiffened and her hands clutched at her sleeves. Itachi sighed.

"There won't be a next time. I will be fine Maria."

As annoying as her concern was, they had made progress. Itachi would rather subtly conversation then the awkwardness they would sit in. At first Maria couldn't even look at him. She would enter his room, throw books on his bed and lay food on the movable table that was attached to his bed. She would either sleep in what looked like a very uncomfortable position in the chair, or do other mundane things. Sometimes she would knit.

At the end of the second day she begrudgingly and red faced presented him with a navy blue scarf, the one he had watched her make for hours. He didn't know what to do with it. Of course he wouldn't wear it, but at the same time he didn't want to throw it away. For now it sat on the table, untouched.

He also got well acquainted with the television. Of course they had it back home too, but nothing quite like it was here. Maria had brought an alien movie in one day, and while watching it Itachi almost asked if it were real, the effects were so good. Mostly though Itachi focused on the news, to occupy his mind with the politics of this world, and halfheartedly listen to the ramblings of TV hosts and cougars.

As boring as his stay was he was grateful for the rest. He was already feeling better, and tonight he decided was the night. The night to set his plan in motion. He already had his medication, which even if didn't completely put him in remission, would give him enough time to save Sasuke. He looked at the clock on the table, it was three in the afternoon now and he would be discharged in an hour. The time couldn't seem to move fast enough.

You know what sucks? Sleeping in hospital chairs in the waiting room.

I thought it would be easy, since I had done it when I was a child while waiting for my fathers death, but I realized on the first night that the chairs had either gotten smaller or I had gotten bigger. But the uncomfortable chairs weren't what kept me awake, they played a heavy role, but it wasn't what was weighing on my mind. My father died when I was asleep. I woke up to the sound of my mother sobbing and Tim tugging on my sleeve. We had been in the waiting room for two days, ready to go be with my father when it was his time. But when that time came he was gone before the doctors could even tell us he was going down hill. I promised myself that I would never leave anyone I loved to die alone after that.

Not that I loved him or anything.

I most certainly didn't. He was cold, a total jerk, and wasn't even that attractive. I caught myself glancing at him in the bed, nose in a book as always. He wasn't... attractive. His hair was out of its pony tail, tousled around his shoulders, dark and luxurious. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen. He had dark eye brows, which sloped downwards in a serious expression.

A familiar twist began forming in my stomach. Why was I kidding myself? "Come on Maria... looks are deceiving. He's a total jerk."

I found my eyes leave him, moving to the navy scarf. Jesus, what was I doing? Was I trying to bribe him to like me with a hand knit scarf? Granny always said that the way to a mans heart was through his stomach, so that's why I would swing out to restaurants and bring him actual edible food. I brought my head down and rested it in my hands. What the hell was I doing?

His last hour admitted went by painfully slowly, filled with awkward silences and my pitiful attempts to make conversation. When the nurse finally came in to release him I almost sighed from happiness. We rented out a wheelchair, much to his displeasure. Dr. Martin said it was fine, and that he should rest for a couple more days just to make sure his lungs were catching up. He had an appointment scheduled in a week, and she said by then they should be able to tell if the medication was working.

He shifted uncomfortably in the wheelchair, and made no attempt to speak to me during the care ride or now as I pushed him into the house. "This really isn't necessary." He whispered, tapping his foot on the chairs foot rest impatiently. I scoffed in reply, not wanting to get into yet another fight about his unstable condition. I didn't want him to start coughing up blood again.

"I'd rather you not ruin anything else with your blood, I doubt the stain will come out of the car..." I whispered, mostly to myself. If he heard he made no indications of it. I left him in the living room with the TV for company and I scampered off to the kitchen to begin making supper.

The house hadn't been touched in about a week, and already there was a thin layer of dust settling on the counter top. I swiped the marble counter, rubbing the dust I caught in my hand on my pant leg. I looked around the rest of the kitchen, seeing what else had happened while I was gone. The flowers were drooping and less vibrant, in desperate need of water. I sighed, turning away from the gloomy sight and filled a pot with broth and pre-cut vegetables that were in the fridge already. Soup would be easy to make, and easy on his throat.

Like every other meal, we sat in silence. There was something different about this silence though. Usually he would only be focused on eating. It was easy to tell that his focus was elsewhere tonight, as his brows were furrowed and he had a far away gaze. "Are you okay?" I said quietly, bringing a spoonful of carrots and broth to my lips.

His eyes focused to the present momentarily before he shut them. "Of course."

"Are you in any pain? Just let me know and I can get some pain killers for you-"

"Maria..." His tone was soft, but demanding. He was a master at it, a master of manipulation. I had been with him long enough now to understand some of his tricks and personality quirks, so I thought that if I could press maybe a little bit harder...

"Listen to me for once!" I snapped, letting the carrots fall back into the bowl with a plop. My sudden outburst caught his attention, as his eyes snapped open and met mine. "I'm only trying to help you. Why won't you just let me?"

He leaned back slightly in the chair, looking me over with a scrutinizing gaze. That was it. That was the face he made when he was deciding if he should tell me the truth or not. "You've been lying and keeping things from me, and it's not fair."

"It's none of your concern. I'll be leaving soon and then you can forget all about this."

"Forget?" I whispered breathlessly, "How the hell could I forget this? Forget you?" That was ridiculous. This was one of the most unthinkable things that has ever happened to me, and he expected me to just forget it? I let my gaze drop to the steaming bowl in front of me. "And... and what if I don't want you to go..." My voice was so quiet I was wondering if he had even heard me. He rose quickly from the wheelchair, signaling that he had indeed heard me.

"I will not be dragged into this teenage love story Maria. You do not know me, so you are constructing who you think I am in your mind. I can assure you, the fantasy me you have conjured up is nothing like what I actually am."

Without another word he left me alone at the table with his wheelchair, taking his bowl of soup with him. I gripped my spoon harder and began shoveling the vegetables into my mouth.

Part II

Final Fight - Ryuichi Sakamoto

I couldn't stop thinking about it. Watching old re-runs of criminal minds didn't help, nor did the cold shower I stood in for at least an hour. Now laying in bed, the thoughts were suffocating. I smacked my forehead as I read the time of the clock. 2:30 AM.

Sleep was elusive, but very much needed. I was exhausted. After much tossing and turning I threw the covers off. I had to talk to him. Maybe if I explained my feelings a little bit better, he would understand. Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding.

I got out of bed and carefully tiptoed through the hall to his door. I knocked a few times, but after hearing no answer I carefully opened the door a sliver. He wasn't there. In the pace where I would usually see him with his nose in a book, there was a made bed and a small note on the pillow. I quickly ran over, confused, and grabbed the note.

Thank you for everything. Goodbye.

"That IDIOT!" I threw the note down on the floor violently, then bolted out of the room.

I rushed around the house, checking every nook and cranny for him. After I was sure I had checked, and double checked everywhere, I retired to the back porch in a huff. I was angry. No, I was pissed. How could he just leave like that? Without even saying goodbye in person to me? And in the middle of the night no less?

Of course, its not like I could just leave this issue of the disappearing weirdo and hope he would return sometime. Especially with him still sick, and ruder then ever. I had to find him. To make sure he wasn't passed out in another field somewhere, and to make him apologize. I looked out of the glass faced door into the darkness that was the trees and saw a figure heading into the woods. My heart lurched. It was him.

I was always urged not to go alone off into the woods when I was young, especially in the night. Granny would warn me of big cats that would love a little girl as a snack. My father was a little more whimsical and said it would be the fairies that would lead me away, leaving me confused and lost. Ignoring the memories and warnings I flung on my sneakers and bolted out the door.

The forest really is terrifying at night. Its thick canopy doesn't allow much sunlight through, and any that it does is dappled along the uneven mossy ground. I didn't need light though, I knew this path inside and out.

I knew all of its tricks, the fallen tree, the jutting rocks, the small streams. My feet moved without much thought as too where I was putting them, the only noise I could hear was the soft wet squelch of the moss beneath my feet. That was strange though. Even in the night the forest is never quiet, there is always life. The distinctive call of the resident barred owl's, the rustling in the underbrush from scavenging vole's; these are the sounds of the forest at night, the sounds of its life.

I was too preoccupied with my rage to really listen to the forest and realize just how strange the silence was. There wasn't even a breeze to sway the trees and rustle their leaves. Aside from my own noisy breath there is nothing to be heard and the woods are simply too dark to see much at all. Black trunks against an almost black backdrop doesn't make for much too see and my imagination begins to supply horrors to fill the void. I couldn't shake the feeling of something being not quite right. As I continued down the path a feeling of being watched came over me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up and my anger was replaced with fear. The silence pressed in on me and all I could hear was the beating of my own heart and my quickening breath. Something was watching me. I slowed down my pace, and could hear something walking with me, slightly off and barely there, but thanks to adrenaline my senses were heightened so I could pick out the predator's footfalls.

I tried to calm myself down, after all it could just be him. But if it was why wasn't he saying anything? Just as I was convincing myself that it was all probably in my head I heard a twig snap just a few feet behind me. I stopped and turned slowly, coming to meet a pair of gleaming eyes watching me, the predator hidden in the bushes.

My body wanted to either run fast for the hills or pick up the nearest stick for a weapon, but instead I stayed right where I was. Sometimes freezing is the best of the choices, and let's face it, there really are only three. I want to quell the hammering in my chest, but there's no way that will happen now. The beast inched closer to me, emerging from the bush, its glowing eyes never leaving my own.

Its heavy paws are silent on the ground, and its golden pelt renders it nearly invisible. My adrenaline surges so fast I almost vomit, I can taste the saliva thickening my my mouth to a rancid paste.

Why hadn't I listened to the news? They warned citizens so many time about the increase of Cougar attacks, and supplied the warnings with gory details.

I already know my fate, in seconds my throat will be ripped out, flesh consumed, blood staining the forest floor. They always go for the neck. As much as I didn't want to die, my feet were glued to the ground. It still inched closer to me, shoulder blades raising drastically with each step, its head stabilized and barely moving. It's eyes never leaving my own.

"Please God, let me live." I whispered aloud, turning away from the predator and throwing myself forward with even greater abandon.

My lungs and heart were pumping, but the air didn't seem to be enough as I sprinted forward. My heart thumped frantically, all or nothing. Fail and my whole body will pay the price, run and the damage is limited mostly to my shins and knees. My hair danced around my face, sticking to my forehead that was wet with sweat. Being chased was nothing like the movies.

The stars look heroic, sexy and in command of the situation. Reality was far removed from that pretty version of running to save your skin.

Itachi stood in the field, surrounded by seals upon seals. In the forest there was no wind, but in the open there was a slight breeze, the blue field resembled moving water when the flowers swayed with the wind.

The full moon shone bright in the sky, causing the blue flowers to catch the light, setting the field a flame with a blue glow. Ankle-deep, undulating, thick and tangled as a horse's mane. The flowers were everywhere. But, Itachi managed to set down the paper seals without much difficulty.

He let himself scan the field, analyzing everything he had laid out. He was ready. His eyes turned red.

"Kamui."

Branches like reaching arms clawed at my skin, leaving cuts and gashes all over my arms and face.

I was being pushed pass all endurance, but I could hear it getting closer. I could almost feel its hot breath on my neck. Just as the forest started to close in on me and the dark sky pressed down, I exploded from the thick brush to a clearing. Blue flowers shone in the moonlight, but I didn't try to avoid stepping on them like I would any other time.

My run didn't falter even though my legs felt like lead and my ankles were throbbing. Through my salty sweat stinging eyes I saw the back of a figure appear out of the darkness. I reached out my hand, screaming incoherently, and he turned quickly. I could've sworn his eyes were red.

Something heavy hit my back, causing me to stumble forward. I realized the predator had made its attack as I fell to the ground. Claws dug into my side and I screamed into the dirt.

I fought the Cougar, swinging whatever limbs I could wildly, hoping to land at least one strike. Suddenly, the ground began to shake and everything I could see began to swirl into a spiral. Just before I fell into darkness I let out another terrified scream.