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Chapter 13.

Suspended in your Only Hell.

So after two hours of wandering around the mountain in search for that platform that he had seem the other day and no other in the world would be deemed as satisfactory, we finally came upon a real ski instructor who directed us towards the much revered by Hatake ramp.

When we did find it however, he decided that it was time for lunch and we had to head back down to the lodge. Once there I ran over to Iruka's group and hugged Naruto for all it was worth.

'Save me!'

He laughed and waved to my tormentor who waved back whilst enjoying his tuna sandwich.

'Hey boy with too much money!'

I turned to face him.

'I know your legs hurt and the twenty something falls you have undergone aren't contributing to your good health-'

'Three falls!'-I shouted, grumpy and annoyed after the brutal six hours of ski lessons a la Kakashi.

'Ok, thirteen...details…Regardless, I was thinking, we should go down with the ski-lift.'

I must have looked insane to him, falling onto my knees and holding my hands up to him while muttering things like 'I see the light' and 'my saviour'. But surprisingly, he just chuckled.

'You know Uchiha, you're different from them.'

I stopped midway in my upheaval from the ground.

'From who?'

He didn't answer.

As we sat on the cold wooden bench, moving ten kilometres per hour down the snow covered slopes, I began to drift off into my own thought and soon into sleep.

I saw the mountain but from above, as if I was a bird.

And even though I felt the wind, it brushed soothingly against my flesh instead of being cold and unforgiving.

It really did feel like flying.

Until…

I stopped.

Or rather we came to a sudden halt, my body almost splitting in two as the gravity pulled me forward while the safety bar divided my general existence. In other words it hit be in the gut.

Kakashi, who had obviously been more alert, with the 'hip style' that Gai had assigned to his persona, merely put his hand against the afore-mentioned steel rod that was supposed to initiate safety and indeed looked very cool, an expression of mild boredom on his face.

'You suck.'-I choked out as I rubbed my abdomen while he sat there, looking amused by the whole situation.

'Not to worry, this will be over soon.'-he assured me while adjusting his scarf.

And so we waited.

And waited.

And…

In truth, what had actually happened was that the guy on the top end of the lift, some guy called Orochimaru, had relayed over his black walky-talky to the guy at the bottom end that carriage number sixty seven was carrying the last people on their way down. This being the hour when they closed down, i.e. seven thirty, he then happily pulled on his own skies and went merrily on his way.

And later, when the investigation was brought up, the carriage the two stranded men had been on, had indeed been number sixty seven.

However, that was where all the seemingly, followed to the last letter logic seized to exist.

The guy at the other end, having decided to warm himself up by having a few Heineken beers, had heard fifty rather than sixty and was rather surprised that when he pressed the button to stop the lift and there had been nobody getting off.

However, under the ever so dutiful influence of the six bottles that he had consumed, his inner self couldn't give a shit and so he too, much like his co worker, left.

'You've got to be kidding me…'

I would have replied to his rhetorical question but the cold had already worked its way up my legs, my main frame and all the way to mouth, hence the chattering teeth.

'It's already eight twenty and we're still here…'-he carried on, his tone threatening to overthrow the last remnants of calm that the darkness provided. He turned and looked at me. At least I assumed that he did after all, there was not a star in the sky and no moon to provide for the, however poor, lighting.

'Shit…'

I agreed, silently, vowing to kill the person responsible.

'So…'-I tried, my voice breaking, the heat of my breath burning my frozen face as the precipitation clung to my skin, soon cooling down and creating an effect much worse.

'So what?'-he snapped back. There was an awkward pause and then he sighed deeply.-'I'm starving.'

'Me too.'-I replied, nodding a little too enthusiastically.

'Right now…'-he seemed to contemplate for a second.-'I wish I could be in my office, grading papers and smoking...'

I snorted.

'And the truth comes out.'-I mused.

'The truth? Maybe…but you don't know the joy of finding a fresh idea or new outlook in those boring as hell essays my retarded students write…'

'I was talking about the smoking...'

Both of us sat in silence, regretting that both had forgotten to take a lighter that morning, I having lost mine and assumed that he would have his while he had abandoned his in the other coat and assumed I would have mine.

'If you had me as your student, I might provide that happiness…'-I said bitterly, breaking our nicotine based contemplation.

He laughed.

'That would go against my principals.'

Another silent pause which was soon broken by me.

'I'm cold.'

And that was all it took.

He grabbed my hand and pulled, forcing my body closer to his, his lips, dry and icy, pressing against my own; his tongue hot against my mouth. His other hand went down to my pants, the movement heated, forcing me to gasp as the sensation ripped through my mind, my body no longer aware of the arctic climate about us.

'I'm cold too.'-he whispered into my mouth before resuming his previous activity.

TBC

ALRIGHT!

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