AN: WOOHOO AND DADDY IS BACK AFTER A LONG, UNINTENDED, 3-WEEK SILENCE!
Seriously, I try and update every two weeks because I got school now, but it took longer than I had expected.
And please, as you read this, do not regard the story as Urban Fantasy. Menma just had himself legitimate . . . bodily issues, so Kurama is really just a normal fox.
KigenDawn: No, this would be neither. ObiRin is shipped here. Meanwhile, Kakashi is . . . you know . . . single.
What was that?
Was it the dead space, lingering around on the two meters of space that Menma distanced himself from Naruto? Maybe a day or two would've been possible. But Menma never expected that their lack of communication would last for a whole week.
No matter how compelling it was for Menma to send even a single phrase to Naruto, he couldn't bring himself to. A pride that high was placed first. Menma hated his hamartia. He knew that the hubris was there—only it was difficult for him to pin it down, just for a single conversation with Naruto. He grunted as he clawed on his black blanket. Had Naruto never said that . . .
Naruto decided that perhaps it was wrong—immoral, even—to apologize for something he was unable to control. But he sure as hell wanted to apologize. It was a lose-lose situation for both of them. They hated tossing and turning on their respective beds, knowing well that someone whom one had a broken bond with was sharing a dorm with the other.
They weren't able to stomach such a dire situation. They thought they were close—inseparable—but one confession ruined it all. Perhaps wanting romance with someone of their own blood was something so unnatural that it could ruin such a bond with massive fortitude. But then again, loving someone of the same gender is unnatural. So is loving someone of the opposite gender. So is loving someone of a higher age group. So is loving someone of the same age group. So is loving someone of a different color. So is loving someone of the same color.
Loving, in general, is never natural.
Love is a bitch, ready to tell people, "You'll never see it coming."
As Naruto exhaled a short puff of air, he trudged to Menma's bed. As if implanted into Menma's initiative, he turned around to the other side, so as not to meet Naruto's eyes. It was a lot of constriction in Naruto's chest. He resigned next to Menma.
"You know, there is really no use in shutting me out, Menma. It's just gonna hurt us more."
"Us? Naruto, I could keep this up for years."
"Then—damn—it's hurting me!" Naruto said, with conviction. Menma gulped. "The least I want is for us to be brothers again. A week is already too much for me. I don't . . ." Naruto clawed the cotton of his pajamas, with his pain prominent in his eyes. "I don't think my poor heart can take it anymore."
"Your heart isn't poor," Menma deadpanned. "It's abundant. Too abundant—in fact."
"Then goddamn take the contents of my heart, baka! Store it in yours! Or at least let's be twins! I don't care!" Naruto threw himself on Menma's back without hesitation. Menma grunted. Naruto whispered on the collar of Menma's pajama shirt, "Just don't shut me out. I get hurt more than you think."
There was an unhealthy silence between their touching bodies for a while. The dead of the night reigned supreme across the campus, with moonlight leaking through the centimeters of space on the blinds. The humming of the air conditioner was a sweet lullaby to one of the twins—but a distraction to the other. Seconds turned to minutes—thirty-four minutes to be quite specific. Menma rolled away from Naruto's clutches and silently dropped himself on the floor. He scratched his head and glared at the snoring Naruto. He rolled his eyes.
No matter how cute—I admit—you are when you're knocked out, I would like some time to myself tonight.
Almost effortlessly, he picked Naruto up like a sack of feathers and moved his shoulder forward to wipe the dripping saliva. Doing his best not to be lured by Naruto's sweet smile, he sauntered barefooted towards the door. With shaky eyelids, threatening to close at any moment, Menma focused on going down the wide stairs of the empty dormitory. He took a long yawn at the second floor. He could hear a few people of little importance, conversing with each other on the first floor lounge. He scowled.
He passed through the hallways of the first floor and headed straight to the farthest room: Room 120. He could hear the rapid typing of the keyboard inside. He snickered.
Always busy with academics, I see. Classic Sasuke.
He looked down at Naruto. The blonde was grumbling and chewing on the tip of his own collar. Menma sighed.
I hope you'd like a sleepover.
"Hey Sasuke. Open the door."
"R'you Naruto?"
"It's Menma. Do me a favor."
"Give me a sec."
After passing the promised deadline by seven seconds, the door creaked ajar by Sasuke, with hints of bags under his eyes. Sasuke looked down at Naruto, then back up at Menma again. No matter how much in love he was with Naruto, he said, "What's this?"
"This is my younger twin." Sasuke almost protested as Menma allowed himself inside the neat room. It was surprising for Menma to see such a clean room. His shared dormitory was quite messy when both the twins felt lackadaisical. He set Naruto down on the silk bed. Sasuke followed. "Naruto will stay with you for the night. Take care of him."
"What? Why?"
Menma shrugged. He had a hundred-yard stare across space, paired with a tasteless frown.
"We're not in good terms . . . for now. And I don't want to feel bad because he's in my peripherals. So I guess we both need a bit of a break-off until we feel cool enough to patch things up."
Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose. Menma—a person full of pride. Sasuke could perceive that he would have to undertake lots of mental stress if he didn't reconcile with Naruto. But as a member of the Uchiha clan, he had to let Menma learn the hard way.
Purposely changing his perspective of the issue, Sasuke said, "I understand your point. You should take all the time you need."
Quite the opposite of what Sasuke should recommend. Any longer and a misunderstanding could turn into a grudge. Menma bobbed his head and reminded his friend again to take care of Naruto. Sasuke accepted his request and led Menma out.
"Are you sure you two will be fine?"
"Yeah, I'm sure we will."
And for a second, Menma wanted to hesitate at his statement.
Menma wasn't at peace. Taking Naruto away did not help. In fact, it deprived him of even more important sleep. He could still smell Naruto's scent of ramen and after-practice sweat. And, frankly, he wanted to squeeze every essence of it and whiff it all up in his system.
If that weren't enough to keep him from being hysterical, then perhaps the actual person would. Two days ago, he started hearing voices in his mind, begging him to forgive Naruto and move on. However, he did not answer the prayers of the damned voices.
And apparently, those voices were his.
He didn't know whether his mind was being guilt-tripped or he was going insane. Menma wanted to dismiss it as the first, but the latter seemed to make more sense to him. He didn't like being lonely—he loathed it with all his heart.
He didn't want to try and sleep; the voices might catch up to him again. He sat upright and bit his knuckles.
The silence of the room was noisy.
"Night terrors . . . must be night terrors."
Menma didn't want to touch the floor. Perhaps it would've turned into a membrane-like monster or something. What a childish fear. But it was to be expected from a person who possesses monophobia. How he wished Naruto were there. He missed Naruto's warmth. He missed exchanging security with Naruto. He missed the passion and adoration between the both of them. And—God—he missed the actual person.
But Naruto wasn't gone—Menma was.
Where was the Menma with a burning heart? He was absolutely nowhere to be found.
Menma needed to cry.
"I hate myself."
He wanted Naruto back in his safe clutches again.
He wrapped his blanket around, as if the blanket were to serve as armor from all nightly evils and spirits—like every childish belief. The chill of the night crept on his toenails. He shivered. He glanced at the marigold bed. Kurama was glaring at him with bloodshot red eyes. Quite the killer intent people didn't like. Fear instilled on his heart. He tried to cover his terror with a fake snicker.
"D-don't scare me like that . . . Kurama. Come on, just go to sleep."
Menma's ears perked up, as if a sudden shock was delivered. His surroundings went blurry, then clear in a nanosecond. He shook his head and tried to regain his rapidly-lost balance. He looked back at Kurama.
As if a color-changing fox wasn't enough, Kurama rolled his eyes and growled, "I can't be at peace if you aren't at peace, idiot."
Dead silence. Menma wasn't sure how to react. A fox just talked to him. According to zoology and common sense, foxes weren't supposed to have the human ability to communicate through speech. What would have Naruto said about that? He would've freaked out at first and then would find it cool afterwards.
Almost nonchalantly, yet still shocked, Menma said, "I knew you're a magic fox."
Kurama snorted and jumped towards Menma's side. Still the same appearance. Still one bushy tail and a hateful look. Nothing else. Menma was about to faint.
"I'm not magic, kid. If I were, I'd probably be a Kyuubi with majestic nine tails or something right now—but I'm not. As far as I know, your conscience is residing in this animal body, as a form of a physical guide. You've been ignoring your inside voice for a whole week. I guess you'll suffer the consequences by attaining mental chaos, or according to what humans name it: insanity."
"Insanity?" Menma repeated.
"Are you deaf or something?!" Kurama scoffed. "Yes, insanity. Your system has the initiative to be with the one you are happy with. However, you, yourself, want to push the person away because of Naruto's incest feelings towards you. And that's scary."
Menma sighed. "So I'm a madman now . . ."
"That is correct."
"And I can talk to my fox."
"Because you are crazy—yes. But again, I'm just—"
"Yeah, my conscience brought to the physical plane of existence, possessing my pet, I know."
Menma fell back, with the fox purring on top of his inflating and deflating abdomen. He expected a better, more terrified reaction. Not every day a person would realize they are crazy. However, Menma half-expected it. No person in the right mind would get intimate with someone who carries the same genes.
And speaking of genes, he wondered why he had black hair and Naruto had blond, even though twins were supposed to have similar genes.
He dismissed it and regarded it as a shower thought for later.
He caressed Kurama's tail and stared at the plain ceiling. The least he could do was talk to his fox.
"Do you think Naruto needs some more time to think?"
"Obviously. You hurt him pretty hard. He needs to contemplate about what are in between you two. But I believe he shouldn't overthink."
"Hmm . . ."
Menma bolted upright, almost flinging his pet off the bed. Once Kurama got on all of his fours, he growled, "Why'd you do that, idiot?! I could've fallen! You are absolutely—"
He sighed. "Sorry."
"You do not say sorry to a fox of authority, you repugnant scrotum-sucking oxygen-thief!"
"Whoa, tone it down on the toxic—"
"Shut it, vermin-ridden politically-ambiguous, vain-smegging penis! I do not tolerate animal abuse!"
"But I did not even intend to hurt—"
"You have hurt my animal host by flinging me by a hundred yards—"
"Berries."
Kurama's ears stood up. His rage was disabled at the mention of the delicacy. The fox approached Menma and nudged his pajamas on the stomach area.
"Berries?"
"Warm and unrefrigerated yet fresh berries."
"Good berries."
Menma opened the cabinet nearby and snatched a doggy bag with ten pieces of Kurama's favorite food. The fox wolfed on them as Menma opened the bag. He didn't mind the juice dripping.
"You," Menma remarked, "Menma Namikaze, are the craziest person alive."
He closed the laptop and set it under his bed. There were some options there. He could wake Naruto up, let him sleep, or . . . that was all he could think of. He picked a yogurt cup on his tiny wooden cabinet and licked a thick amount of the creamy substance.
"Err . . ."
The yogurt was plain Greek, so he didn't quite have the taste for it. He figured that he wasted a couple of yen for such a stupid product. Well, at least it was healthy. He walked to the light switch and flipped it off. The lights immediately died down. He caught heat on his cheeks. He bit his lip. Menma just dropped him off. There was no big deal, really. He crashed on the brown sofa on the right side of the room.
"I don't know why your brother dropped you off here, but . . . goodnight, I guess."
Sasuke curled up and faced the support of the sofa, making the most out of the comfort. He could've slept with Naruto, but he respected Naruto's privacy.
There wasn't much to do any more than study. Sasuke wanted to do something out of his boredom. Out of sudden realization, he lowered his phone's brightness and pulled out a random copy of his bucket list that was on a piece of tissue. Or at least a copy of a part of his bucket list. He wanted to focus on one of them at a time and the others for later.
"And for today, our bucket list goal will be . . ."
Cook for your classmate.
Oh, something easy. Sasuke breathed a sigh of relief. He could do that now and hang out with Naruto after he's done whipping up a delicacy.
"I guess I can do that. Probably for a surprise. I'll wake you up later."
For sound blockage, Sasuke put his noise-negating headphones on Naruto's ears. He almost ran his hand through the golden hair. He didn't have to worry if the dorm room gets aromatic. Unlike what cartoons show, the sense of smell does not work while asleep. He turned the lights on and got to the cupboard.
"I'll start with what takes the longest."
He grabbed the small rice sack next to the fridge and poured six cups of rice on the rice cooker. He added seven and a half cups of water into it too.
"Wait for thirty minutes for the rice to soak in . . . I'll have to go to the others then."
He opened a can of spam and a container of eggs. He cracked two eggs on one bowl on his right hand, whilst slicing the block of spam into eight medium-sized slices on the other. He cut the insides of the slices until a proportional hole was made in each of the spam cuts. He whisked the eggs with immense aggressiveness and grace. He blessed the mixture with pinches of salt and pepper.
After washing his hands, he placed a frying pan on the electrical stove. After he had melted the butter on low heat and spread it on the surface, he turned the stove off and filled each space inside the food with the liquid scrambled egg on the pan. From there, he cooked it in high heat and constantly pressed them.
For the remaining pieces of spam, he would cook them later. He flipped the cooking pieces around and waited. He headed to the rice and poured in half a teaspoon of salt and cooked it. The smell of the area was umami and sublime, as if he were in a restaurant. Fortunately, it was just a simple recipe for such an effect.
Once he assumed that the spam was cooked to perfection he scraped them out, added and spread butter, and included the rest of the spam in. He took out a container of seaweed on the cupboard for his spam musubi. He would've added cheese into it, but he didn't purchase a pack that week.
Sasuke would've been more than glad if Naruto enjoyed it. It was the only recipe he crafted. Regarding the Uzumaki's culinary reputation, he wanted to impress the son of the late Kushina Uzumaki. She was one of Konoha's greatest chefs.
"I hope your son isn't a picky eater, Aunt Kushina," he whispered.
As he waited, he watched Naruto sleep. It disturbed Sasuke. Naruto looked like he was having a bad night. Sasuke frowned.
"What's up with—"
"Grrrumph . . ." Naruto moaned in his sleep. Sasuke was shook awake. He clasped his mouth shut with his left hand. Naruto grumbled, "No . . . goodnight . . . need . . . kiss."
Sasuke almost choked himself to a grand death.
"Goodnight . . . kiss?" Sasuke bit his left thumb. "Damn that Menma . . . Maybe he didn't like it when you ask for nightly kisses? Is that why you two are in bad terms? That's quite a stupid matter to tackle bitterly."
Naruto started tossing and turning on the land of sweat dreams and comforting cotton and fluffy pillows—otherwise known as a bed. He groaned as if he were trapped in a nightmare. Sasuke broke in cold sweat. He didn't want to do it . . . but—for all the good above—he felt as if it were his obligation to do it. He approached his classmate with caution. His heart was drumming inside its small ribcage. Sweat dripped down on Naruto's pajamas.
Keep your calm, Sasuke.
Sasuke wasn't thinking of going plain and simple. He wanted to perform something riskier. He eyed the cracked lips and licked his own. He bowed and contemplated, a few more inches close to his goal.
If you aren't going to do this, he's gonna wake up and he'll kill you . . . I think.
Can't you brush your teeth first? Sasuke conversed with himself.
Too late for that.
He placed his hands on the bed for support and closed his eyes. He could already feel the intensity and the spice of the kiss. He just needed to go a little bit closer . . .
Fifty millimeters.
Forty millimeters.
Thirty millimeters.
Twenty millimeters.
Ten millimeters.
One millimeter . . .
His phone rang.