Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.
Title: Gray-colored Happiness
Chapter: 21 of 42
Chapter 21
It's not what I expected.
Not that I expected anything, because I didn't.
This is entirely unexpected.
Where was I?
There is a delighted sort of squeal, a bit girlish and I'd like to laugh at him, but with the next moment I can't. Because suddenly I can feel and taste Naruto deep in the back of my throat and it is enough to make me light-headed.
It is not rushed or violent as I suppose it ought to be with all the pent-up tension and conflicting emotions that have always existed between us. Instead, it is clumsy and inept and messy and somewhat embarrassing.
It is my first kiss.
Not counting the accidental one forced on me three and a half years ago.
Both have been with Naruto.
Funny that.
I'm not going to say it's perfect and everything I ever wanted and waited for because it's not. It is a mix of many things but none of it is that perfection sort of dreamy romantic crap. And I am hardly a dreamy romantic.
Yet it is what it is and I suppose because of the awkward, uncomfortable clumsiness of it, it is a variety of perfect.
And now I am being sappy.
I am never sappy.
He still has the salty, spicy taste of ramen, but there is another flavor that lingers just below the surface. Deep and rich and earthy and like nothing I've ever tasted before and I think that it is the unique flavor of Naruto himself.
His tongue feels thick and heavy in my mouth and the low noise in his chest changes, growing guttural and I'm not so sure it's altogether human anymore. He slowly slides his tongue along mine, his breath and voice hard against me and . . .
He seems to know what he's doing, but I don't and I'm not sure how I feel about that. Someone else has had this; someone else has sampled what should be mine.
Naruto should be mine.
Always mine.
I simply follow my instinct and his lead, though it still irks me. Naruto, better at something than I am.
It's terrible that I'm sure it's true.
But still, it is thrilling and sweet and almost a little sinful to be kissing my best friend.
And very, very weird.
And I just, I just . . .
I don't know.
The groan this time comes from me, rolling over our entwined tongues and I just don't care.
We come apart with a wet pop as Naruto drops away, sending a sudden warm burst of air over my face. Opening my eyes, I feel foggy and faint; my breath coming in short, ragged gasps and every nerve in my body is humming in a way I have never felt before. Naruto gazes up at me with those big blue eyes shining in the shadow of his face and his mouth drawn into the biggest, widest, goofiest grin I think I have ever seen.
I wonder what I look like, dazed and panting like an idiot.
He whispers huskily into the space between us. "Sasuke . . ."
I have nothing to say.
He tries to reach up to me, but that's too much so I drive his hands harder into the dirt beneath them. Slowly, I push our conjoined hands up above his head, feeling his nails break skin and drag blood along his fingertips as he pulls them up to my knuckles. My breath catches in my throat.
That new, unfamiliar sensation is coiling down in the depths of my self, white and sharp, and it makes it very difficult to think about anything else.
My heart is pounding so loud and fast in my chest that there's no way he can't hear it.
The small cuts in my hands throb weakly and a tiny amount of blood trickles over them, just enough to drip into the grass and stain it slightly pink. Naruto just lays there, his hair splayed out around him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles for air.
He looks really good like that . . .
I lean down close to him, our lips almost touching but not, and breathe in the last of the breath that escapes him.
His hands keep pressing harder against mine and I know he's fighting to touch me.
And I want him to. I want to feel his hands on my skin, but at the same time, at the same time . . .
Part of me wants him to stop.
Part of me anticipates him hurting me.
And part of me, the part I desperately want to deny, wants him to drive his nails deep into my skin until I feel the slice of them through my flesh.
It is wrong and I'm not ready for this.
I'm not ready for him to see what I really am because it's different and worse, than what he thinks.
If he looks at me, he'll see all that's wrong and dark twisted there, so I lower my forehead to the ground beside his face, sliding my cheek against his. His skin is much softer than I would have imagined. The first inklings of hair tickle my face as his warm breath brushes the edge of my ear.
It is an achingly peaceful moment that I just don't want to end.
And then, inexplicably and without warning, Naruto releases a great peal of laughter as if he has just been witness to the funniest joke in the world. It is loud and coarse, echoing off the great expanse of trees and it is just so Naruto. The vibrations of it ripple through my cheek and body and I smirk at his audacious idiocy. And the palpable tension of the situation seems to drift away into nothing. Good-naturedly, as much as I can be in such a situation, I punch him in the shoulder and he recaptures my hand with his own, twining our fingers together, pale white contrasting starkly with golden tan.
Eventually his laughter subsides and ends in a sigh that ruffles my hair.
He takes a breath and brings our linked hands to his face, tenderly kissing the injured knuckles. It is a gesture so . . . affectionate that it completely alters the atmosphere.
Then the whole world goes still.
Because Naruto begins to slowly drag his tongue along the back of my hand and laves up the small traces of blood like some sort of animal. I should be disgusted, I know, yet I turn to watch, unable to look away. His tongue feels so . . .
And that coiling within me twists tighter and tighter, deep within my gut, sharp and sweet and so close to pain but not. He stops with one last fleeting kiss and the feeling lingers briefly before painfully filtering off as if it no longer knows what to do. He brings our linked hands down to his chest while his other pulls free and begins stroking the side of my arm. I am in such shock at the moment that I don't think to let any of it bother me.
Because it should, shouldn't it?
My eyes are wide when I turn to look at my hand driving into the dirt.
"Sasuke."
His voice startles me because it sounds normal, so much like the old Naruto. The Naruto I wanted so much to see; the Naruto that I . . .
I swallow back the saliva that has pooled in the dip of my mouth and lift my head to face the trees.
And everything stops, like the crash of a runaway cart into a solid brick wall.
Staring back at me from the interlocking curtain of leaves are circle black eyes surrounded by a face of white and black and red. The stare is intense and calculating as if tabulating every nuance of the moment.
'Any more and we will have to inform the council.'
And my crystalline future shatters into a thousand jagged pieces, lodging straight into my long dead, yet rapidly beating heart.
It all went downhill from there.
o.o.o
I've never really thought about it before.
Being gay.
Of course to be fair, I've never really thought about being straight either. I've never truly considered anything because there wasn't "anything" to consider. There wasn't any time for it and there wasn't supposed to be future past Itachi.
The fact that he's male doesn't really bother me.
The fact that he's Naruto is annoying because Naruto is annoying.
But none of that is it. I can't allow there to be anyone.
If I let him, Naruto could rule my every action, hurt me at every turn, and destroy me from the inside out.
Everything in me is twisted up and rotten and what should go together just doesn't anymore. He wouldn't understand.
And I don't want him to.
This is doomed from the start.
I pull away, keeping my eyes on him as I lean back on my heels. When I flick my eyes back up, the mask and any trace of the ANBU wearing it has completely vanished, off no doubt to inform the elders.
It changes everything.
/Sets thing to rights, you mean./
My mysteriously absent parasite has returned at the worst possible moment. What a knack he has for that.
'Your opinion. And I see no reason why I should care about that.'
I move back to sit on Naruto's thighs, his legs stretched out beneath me. He follows, his hand on my chest as if a string attaches us, until he too is sitting up. Then he releases me and puts his hands on the ground behind him, resting his weight backward.
He is still wearing that goofy grin.
"What," he asks. He is breathless.
I show him my displeasure. "Don't get the wrong idea."
He smiles bigger, his eyes crinkling closed. "I think it would be pretty hard to get the wrong idea."
A growl issues from my throat. "This was a mistake."
"Oh, I don't think it was that bad," he says offhandedly.
'That bad'? My eyes slim to nothing as I try to restrain my mounting rage.
But he just grins and laughs and leans forward, cupping my chin in his two hands. "In fact, I'd say it was pretty good. And besides, we have plenty of time." He whispers the last two words softly over my mouth, "to practice."
And he catches me unawares to kiss me once more, his lips plump and warm and there it is again, rolling and wrapping and enveloping me, the sudden desire to swallow him whole or let him swallow me.
It doesn't much matter which.
Without conscious thought, I grip his thigh, my fingers cutting through the fabric of his pants. I push forward until his head falls back under mine. His neck arches harshly as he fights to keep contact while still retaining balance. I'm up to my knees now, taller than him, my mouth working to press his head as far back as it will go. One of his hands has moved from my face so that his fingers can lace through my long bangs. I can feel his tongue mapping out the contours of my mouth and I push back with mine, neither of us giving ground.
There's a little bit of pain at the back of my neck where his nails bite into the sensitive skin near my spine.
I keep pushing as if however close I can get is never close enough.
But then once again there is the need to breathe.
I release him almost violently, the separation making a smacking sound, and scowl down at him. His face is flushed pink, but the blue of his eyes seen through the drowsy slits of his lids glows. One side of his mouth quirks up, showing me the white sharpness of his teeth.
I feel the deep rise and fall of his chest with hands that have somehow made their way beneath his shirt. Quickly, I pull my fingers down across the taut muscles of his belly and hear the hiss he makes through his teeth.
I fall back to my heels and roll to my feet in one smooth motion.
Naruto watches curiously from the ground.
"No," I state.
"No," he asks, puzzled.
"No," I repeat adamantly, taking a step back and feeling the atmosphere pitch. "You can't kiss me."
He chuckles and lowers his head, shaking it in disbelief. "I think it's too late for that. I already did." Tilting his head, he peers at me from under long blond lashes. "And you kissed me back."
Panting still, I stare at him. "Well, it's not happening again."
"Why not?" He questions cheekily. "That last one," he rubs the back of his neck, "hurt a little bit, but, um, yeah. You know." Raising his head, he suggestively runs the tip of his tongue roughly beneath that razor canine.
I wonder what those teeth would feel like . . .
No! This is enough of this.
/Quite indeed./
'No one asked your opinion. Why don't you be a good boy and go back to your little room?'
/Now that I don't have unpleasant foxes taking up my space, I don't need to./
"It doesn't matter what you think," I snarl. I wave my hand at him. "Whatever you think this was, it wasn't. It was nothing more than a momentary lapse of judgment. An effect of the heat and way too much change and rule to my life. So don't get the wrong idea."
Naruto's eyebrows shoot up near his hairline. "What are you saying, Sasuke?"
I groan at his stupidity.
"Do I have to spell it out for you, dobe?"
A thousand different thoughts and emotions flicker over his face until comprehension finally settles there.
He leaps to his feet and I take a calm step backward as he bears down on me. "You're going to tell me this means nothing?" He shakes his head vehemently. "Who the hell are you trying to convince? Not me, I hope, because I was there. I felt it and it sure as hell wasn't just me who wanted that."
He's yelling now and I suppose he thinks he has the right to be angry. But he doesn't understand. Just because I let him kiss me doesn't mean anything's going to change.
/'Let him kiss you' is a very broad interpretation of what just happened./
'Shut up.'
/I'm only pointing out that you're the one creating this particular predicament./
"You're the one trying to kid yourself." I tell Naruto flatly. "It was just another accident. And it won't be repeated."
The lines of Naruto's face carve into his cheeks and his irises flash crimson, just like the air around him. It is only for an instant and then it is gone.
Kyuubi.
I bring it out in him more than anyone else. So it's best all around not to let this go any further.
/Well, if that is the case, then all is well and good. Now perhaps we can move onto something productive./
"I saw it, Sasuke," Naruto says cryptically.
I have no idea what he's talking about.
"I saw . . ." He pulls his mouth down into a frown. "You wanted it just as much as I did."
My eyes catch the small part to his lips, and a hint of his teeth beyond. I see the slight remainder of blush on his cheeks and the tousled mess of his hair.
Maybe I did.
But it changes nothing.
/Exactly, my foolish little pet. Exactly./
"You can't think," Naruto suddenly says and I had almost forgotten he was still there. "You can't think that now that I know I can have you that I'll give you up."
I scowl at him, but say nothing.
I feel suffocated as I know the cage I'm trapped in keeps constricting smaller and smaller.
o.o.o
"You must come with us."
Those are the first words I heard upon arriving at Kakashi's apartment.
They are also the last.
I never actually made it through the door, the three heavily armed ANBU were already waiting for me, barring my way and demanding my compliance.
Of course, it might be for the best.
I only nodded and they took a triangular formation around me to prevent even the thought of escape.
I won't deny it; the thought did briefly cross my mind. But I've gone down that path once before and look where it got me. Right back where I started, only worse. There's no hope of freedom.
Since my entrance into the non-descript room, the same one I met the elders in upon my return, I have seen neither hide nor hair of anyone. They have left me here to sweat it out.
But they have, as usual, underestimated me. Nothing they do can be worse than what has already been done. Considering everything, executing me at this point would almost be redundant.
It would be easier to just let it happen.
/I reject that idea./
'You don't get a say.'
/Do not be foolish. You can accomplish nothing if you are dead./
'There's nothing left to accomplish. Except for maybe ridding the world of you and my death would take care of that rather efficiently.'
/So cruel, my pet./
'Stop that.'
/You are handling all of this far too well./
I sigh and stare at the blank wall. He's right of course. The interfering little bastard.
'Because I don't know where to go from here'. This time is just spare change. And now Naruto's in the mix, complicating things . . .
/That is no reason to throw your life away./
'I never said I was going to "throw it away".'
There are no windows in the room, and no door, only a small set of chairs and a table. There is no way for me to accurately know how much time has passed aside from the ticking in my mind. It feels like days, but can hardly be an hour.
/You should use your time effectively to come up with an appropriate game plan./
'Game plan?'
I stand conspicuously in the center of the room, letting them know I have no intention of accepting whatever meager comfort they have to offer. The will neither lull nor sway me. I am Uchiha Sasuke and Uchiha Sasuke follows no one but himself.
/Noble sentiments. But tell me my dear, where will those sentiments get you?/
'They will retain for me my pride and my honor.'
I resist the urge to rock onto my back foot and cross my arms.
/The Uchiha have no honor. They relinquished that long ago, since before the days of your brother. They had power, influence, and reputation. But no honor. They bargained that away for a grudge and a secret. Do not try to claim such petty ideals now./
'I have my honor,' I assert vehemently.
/Stop deluding yourself. It will get us nowhere. What you have is your life and nothing more./
'No.' I feel the side of my face convulse. 'They have that.'
/Only if you let them./
'Let them?'
I snort aloud. And what has defying them gotten me? The Uchiha name is tarnished too badly now and too many people associate it with "traitor" and "murderer" to be able to erase it. Regaining the status that used to go with that name will take more work than I am prepared for. So without any attainable goal left, I find it hard to muster the resolve to battle for this useless life. Genin? Confined to Konoha? What am I supposed to do with that?
/There is always the chance to change things, to gain power and influence. But only if you live. Until then, follow their demands. Once you have gained their trust, they will not suspect and that is when you can make your move./
'What move?'
/Take control of Konoha. Take your proper place. Show them your true power./
I curl my lip and fight the desire to laugh out loud. 'Is that all? You really have lost what little brain you once possessed. That is your ambition, never mine. Do not confuse us; I am nothing like you. What would I ever want with Konoha?'
/Is it not yours by right?/
The expressionless pale face with the features like mine appears before my mind's eye. "Konoha should be ours. We are the clan with the most frightening power."
Is that what made him insane?
'Leave him out of it.'
/Oh-ho? But he has everything to do with this. He has everything to do with everything. Do not forget, my dear little pet, I was there./
My jaw jerks closed, clacking my teeth painfully together.
'You know nothing.'
/I was there./
I find myself checking nervously to the still damnably closed door.
'I am not him. I do not want to be him.'
/But you spoke of honor. Do you not speak of the clan's honor? Of the Uchiha? Of Itachi?/
'So?'
/Think. How do you expect to achieve any honor in the short extent of your lifetime? Too much damage has been done by those whose "honor" you want to reclaim. Life is extremely brief, my pet. How well do I know that cruel and inconvenient fact?/
'And what do I care about your sick obsessions?'
/But I was speaking of you. Last of the Uchiha and the coveted sharingan. How much privilege do you think they will return to you? No, it will take much more time than you will be given in your life. So much more time. You will need an heir./
'I do not want one.'
/You did./
'When? What are you blabbering about? I never did.'
/And what of your mother? Dear, sweet Mikoto-san. Do not deny it, Sasuke-kun, I will not be fooled. Do not forget that I am here always, intertwined with your psyche, and free to delve through any and all of your memories./
The very thought disturbs me, though I know it to be true. I fist my hands so tightly, trying to divert my mind, until I cease to feel anything altogether. A prickling sensation runs up my left arm.
/You loved her./
'You don't have a right to talk about her.'
/You looked up to her, adored her, and cherished your time with her, though you apparently never acknowledged it. Such a petulant child, always chasing his brother or father, never appreciating his mother. Tch-tch-tch./
'Shut up.'
/So then, do you mean to tell me that you do not want what you had with your mother? You do not wish to pass on her kindness and good intentions? You mean to tell me that you do not miss it?/
'Stop talking about things you know nothing about.'
I flick my eyes again anxiously to the door, but still not even the barest hint of movement.
/Cease with this foolishness. It could be so easy. And then you could make amends, is that not what you want? To set things right with your dear, departed, neglected mother? Do you not wish for a child to foster as you were?/
I actually laugh aloud at that. Anyone watching must certainly think I've completely lost the last shred of my sanity. Even as just an apparition in my head, I feel Orochimaru balk at my unexpected outburst.
'You're the fool,' I say, no longer vulnerable to his pretty and misguided manipulation. 'All this time and how little you know me.'
There is a lengthy pause. A thinking, calculating, introspective pause.
And then, /I know you better than you admit. You will try. Of that I am sure. Because you will not know what else to do./
I leave the statement alone because I don't care anymore. He's clearly delusional and that's nothing new. Besides, there are layers and lies to his every action and it's best not to entertain even the idea of them.
I allow him to settle himself back into the recesses of my mind and brood, upset by my denial of him and his misguided notions.
Suddenly, I feel much better and a satisfied smirk steals its way across my face and it is then that the elders finally decide to grace me with their presence.
The two old folks regard me blandly, no doubt carefully orchestrating a means to their personal agenda. Though they are meant to look out for Konoha's welfare, keeping her best interests at heart, I have the suspicion that they are often petty and self-motivated.
Konoha and I are not exactly on good terms so I can't exactly dredge up any concern.
They're mishandling me, as well as the power I have at my disposal.
The two useless old bags of bones regard me silently. As if they are so great, so wonderful, so goddamned powerful. They lord over us the power to decide our fates and it has gone to their twisted little heads.
They deny me everything. Steal it, rip it to shreds, and lock it away as if they have the right.
Everything.
Elders.
They are ancient and withered and gray. That doesn't mean they are wise.
If I could, I would demonstrate for them just what Uchiha Sasuke can do. With the chirruping of a thousand tiny birds, I would show them what it means to cross me.
/Tut-tut. Such a deliciously pleasant idea, my pet. And although you should cultivate this side of your character, perhaps now is not the best time. Rashness has always been your major flaw./
'That is quite enough from you.'
/Patience, my pet. Patience is what will get me what I want./
'What you want?'
/No, no, Sasuke-kun. You misunderstand. What you want. Of course. Of course. What you want./
"Please," the old woman says ingratiatingly. "Have a seat."
"I'd rather stand."
She gives me a pulled smile that tells me this is the wrong answer and replies, "As you wish." Then she primly sits down beside the old man already seated in one of the chairs. Her pale wrinkled hands rest lightly over each other in her lap. She looks up at me, acting as if this has given her the position of power.
"We have been hearing quite a lot of interesting things about you," she says sternly, her mouth still stretched wide.
I turn my gaze to the old man who simply sits there, alternately staring at me or meaninglessly out into space.
"Oh?" I ask, with a distinct lack of interest.
"Oh, yes," the woman continues, not moving from her carefully arranged position. "You seem to be adjusting to your change in situation surprisingly well. You have displayed a greater capacity for patience and tolerance than we had been led to believe."
Gee, thanks. Can we get past the false praise and get to the real point, already? I would like to get past he false praise and get to the point.
"There have been slip-ups of course, but given the circumstances, you have even shown a decent amount of self-control. We would have expected you to snap long before now."
Apparently they're still unaware of my fight with Naruto.
This could perhaps be the most infuriatingly artificial woman I have ever had to contend with.
/Patience, my pet. Show some of that patience you are apparently so well known for./
'Aren't we the comedian?'
"However," the woman begins.
Ah, here we are at last.
/Silence. I'm trying to listen./
'Like I care.'
/Quiet./
'You shut up!'
The elder goes on, unaware of my internal tiff with the parasite.
"You have also displayed a deplorable lack of judgment and good taste when it comes to the company you keep."
I do my best not to lunge headlong at her throat.
A bony, gray hand waves beside the woman's implacable face. "The association with the Haruno girl is fine. We approve. In fact, we would say she perfectly fits your needs. She has been deemed suitable."
Like a breeding mare. I'm sure Sakura would be flattered.
And I'm still not sure whether the "we" she keeps using is referring to the two of them, or if she's decided to put on royal airs.
"The Hyuuga girl is tolerable, though not a good candidate."
This keeps just getting better.
"But the fraternization with the Kyuubi boy was one we'd hoped you would put to an end."
I know we were leading up to this, but at the same time, I am utterly shocked.
"You can't tell me whom to be friends with."
"We can," she intones dangerously. "If you push us. The Kyuubi boy is out."
"His name," I grit through my teeth. "Is Naruto."
Her smile stays in place, though the wrinkles framing her eyes cut deeper. "He is a nuisance. A plague upon our town and it was against our better judgment to let him roam free to begin with."
I bite the back of my tongue. "Are you threatening him?"
She pauses a moment, the lines in her lips looking like a thousand tiny scar marks. "We do not threaten, Uchiha Sasuke. We merely state fact. The Kyuubi should not be allowed to live; he is a danger to everyone he comes in contact with. That includes you. You would be wise to remember that."
"I can handle myself."
"Yes," the woman slurs carefully. "I'm sure you think you can, even against a demon."
"Then you tell me," I say boldly. "If he's such a demon, why did you let him free?"
"That is none of your concern." She speaks far too quickly and throws me a curt look as if I am to blame for her loss of composure. Her spindly fingers grasp each other over her fat thighs. "You should only concern yourself with yourself. That is quite enough. To aid you in this, since you are clearly incapable of doing so properly, we will ensure that Uzumaki Naruto is occupied and well out of your reach and sight for quite some time. His new assignments will begin within the next few days so you have until then to say your farewells. Hopefully, it will be long enough for you to come to your senses."
"But he just got back!" I protest childishly, although I have already bid my "farewells".
/Keep quiet. This works out perfectly. Why must you insist on making everything such a mess?/
"You have created your own circumstances."
"Then send me instead," I suggest almost desperately. "I am a much smarter and quicker ninja than he is and we all know that my skills are being wasted here, tending children and chasing after strays."
"You know very well that was not part of your agreement," the old woman says through pursed lips. "Besides," she smoothes her hands across her lap. "You can't very well accomplish anything if you are miles away."
I narrow my eyes. "Accomplish anything"? Ha! They have only one thing they want me to "accomplish".
/And is it so bad?/
'Why are you pushing this?'
"And Uzumaki has his own regulations he must follow. He knew that full well when he agreed to them. This will come as no surprise to him." She shakes her head officiously and adds, "Anyway, we did not say he was going anywhere, only that he will be preoccupied."
I delicately lift my eyebrows to disguise my relief. "But what does that have to do with . . ."
"You have a responsibility." It's the old man this time. His voice sounds raspy with age and filled with well-worn bone weariness. "Uchiha males cannot dally with other men. Just as Uchiha females cannot dally with other women. It is simply not done. Uchihas are meant for only two things: to serve and to breed. Now that you are the last, your purpose bears more importance than ever."
My knuckles hurt, bone-white from fisting my hands so hard. "I," I state with a calm I do not feel. "Am not a horse."
"Ah," the old man sighs, resting his folded hands high on his chest. "Uchihas are like finest of rare Kiso stallions." He closes his eyes and leans his head on the back edge of the couch. "But they are still horses."
"You have not been following the rules." The woman interjects as though no one else has spoken.
"Yes. I have," I respond a bit churlishly.
She simply inclines her head.
"We are upping the timetable."
"What?" I am too surprised and angry to concern myself about protocol. "You can't do that!"
The expression the old woman wears makes all her previous ones look kindly. "You are still here only by the Hokage's interference and our good humor. You had best remember that."
I want to counter that it has nothing to do with "good humor", a thing this old hag has clearly never been on speaking terms with, and everything to do with their desire for the sharingan, but I keep my silence.
"We want results," she states plainly. "But we do not demand miracles. We are reasonable people. We do, however, expect to see evidence that you are abiding by your obligations. If not, we will be forced to take matters into our own hands."
I just stand and stare. I never had much of a choice. Die or lock myself in Konoha's cage . . .
Is there really any difference?
"We are done here," the old woman says abruptly. "You have been informed of the change and we are tired."
I'll just bet they are. Running people into the ground is tough work.
"Leave us."
With little option, I grit my teeth, and exit the way I came.
o.o.o
The bowl of vegetables stares at me in high-and-mighty judgment. They are bright and colorful and obnoxious even in the darkness of the room.
I haven't moved from this spot in hours. I know this by the clock that ticks and sounds off the empty walls, refusing to shut the hell up.
My arm has become numb, having supported my head for such a long time and my leg feels slightly prickly from the uncomfortable way I'm sitting on it.
Everything should be calm and resolved. But the only thing I feel is anger. Deep, intense rage that simmers below the exterior, barely contained by my bones and muscles and skin.
I feel as if I move, it will all come bursting out like wildfire, unable to be controlled.
It's all so unfair.
Except that it isn't.
Things were different before Naruto decided to interfere in the predetermined path of my life.
They were simpler then.
I like simple. I like black-and-white.
I don't feel like moving. Or making the decision. I'm tired of making choices.
The peppers continue to stare accusingly.
Just watch, I'll chop you up into tiny pieces and toss you into a stir-fry. I'll chomp on you and tear your fleshy little hides to specks. And I'll enjoy every last bit of it.
Stupid vegetables.
There is the click of a switch and the light turns on, bathing me in its sickly yellow light.
"Ah, Sasuke. I sensed your warm and fuzzy chakra from three blocks away," Kakashi sings in that bracingly bright manner. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I reply shortly, not looking at him.
"So it's Naruto then." He walks past me and opens a cupboard.
I hate him. I really do.
Almost as much as Naruto.
And the elders.
And the Hokage.
And basically everyone at this moment.
I narrow my eyes, remaining silent.
Kakashi decides that this is the best time to hum some unmelodic song I think he's just made up for the pure joy of annoying me. He grabs some beef from the refrigerator and with that idiotic one-eye crescent smile, picks up the peppers from the bowl. I hear chopping followed by the sizzle of oil heating in a pan.
The smell calls to me, sharp and tangy, but I don't turn.
"Have you eaten yet?" Kakashi asks while happily frying traitorous vegetables.
"No," I reply, realizing that with all the events of the day I haven't eaten for over eight hours.
"Are you hungry," he asks, sounding like he's trying to tempt a pet. "Would you like something to eat?"
"No." I grind out, aggravated that he won't leave me alone. But my stomach disagrees and makes that stupid grumble-whine it does when it wants food.
"Hmm . ." Kakashi strolls over and plunks a plateful of steaming beef and vegetables in front of me. He then sits in the chair opposite and immediately pops a piece of meat in his mouth with his chopsticks, deftly hiding his face with his hand.
That's still creepy.
"Too bad I made enough for two."
I scowl at him, royally pissed off. At him, at Naruto, at myself, at those damn elders. The hatred of the whole world works on my head like a vice. But my stomach starts pressing up against my spine, begging to be fed. So I look down and see those peppers, diced and cooked and steaming and you're not so big now, are you?
An angry snarl pulls over my lips and I snatch one up and shove it into my mouth, gnashing my teeth into it with relish.
I told you.
Stupid vegetables.
Take that!
Kakashi raises an eyebrow curiously, but then goes back to humming and shoveling chopsticks of food into his mouth.
Konoha's little homemaker.
At least this time he didn't wear the pink frilly apron.
o.o.o
The shuriken soar gracefully through the air, one, two, three, four, five, six, before hitting the targets that border the training field. Three stick perfectly, the others are a little off. Ouka lands on silent feet in the center of them and scowls as she spins to look at her weapons, as if the misses are their fault and not her own. Kohana pushes off the last target, following each of her partner's throws in succession and ends beside her in wagging puppy glee.
The dog is faring better than the girl.
I exhale with exasperation and shake my head.
She really ought to be better by now.
With a flick of my wrist and a quick turn, I throw my kunai and make the target every time, slipping in alongside Ouka's, metal to metal where hers landed properly.
She turns on me and pouts very girlishly, pulling her little lips into a frown.
"It's not my fault!" She squeals. "I'm not good at throwing. Hand-to-hand combat is my strong point."
Well, I'll give her that. If she has a "strong point", it is hand-to-hand.
Another set of shuriken whiz by, ending as true as mine in lightning fast succession. Both Ouka and I turn to lazybones Tetsuo who hasn't bothered to move from his treetop perch. Despite his outward appearance, he's actually pretty good. Almost as good as I was at that age.
Almost.
"You guys are jerks!" The girl yells, stomps her foot and crosses her arms indignantly. Kohana yips happily.
"You need practice," I point out, carefully pulling my weapons from the trees.
Tetsuo scoffs and begins twirling a small branch between his fingers. I'd toss his shuriken up to him, but since they'll turn back to leaves soon, there's not really a reason. He could probably be a good ninja, if he ever put in the effort.
Ouka, on the other hand . . .
"Teach me!" She cries, gripping my pant leg and looking beseechingly up at me. I growl. "C'mon! You've already had lots of practice, so what's the big deal?"
I pull out one of her shuriken and throw it out behind her. Ouka doesn't even flinch, but Kohana barks, leaps, and catches it carefully in her teeth.
"Please?" Ouka whines.
"Why don't you ask Mitarashi?" I suggest.
The little girl purses her lips, turns her head and looks over at our leader standing idly at the rim of the grounds and grinning wickedly.
Ouka turns back to me. "I don't think so."
I give the child a disgusted look.
"Pleeease?" Not only has the whine heightened in pitch, it is now combined with a constant pulling on my pant leg. My god, I never realized kids were so annoying.
"Why don't you, Uchiha?" Anko intercedes helpfully. "Perhaps you will have better luck."
I snarl.
Grabbing hold of Ouka's bangs, I yank her head back slightly. "If I help you, and I'm not saying I will, you have to do what I say, without complaint. Understand?"
Even though her forehead is slightly pink from my grip on her hair, she smiles and nods enthusiastically. I let go.
"Gather your weapons."
"Yes, sir!" She chirps with a mock salute. Then she dashes to the five remaining corners and gathers up her shuriken.
And while I watch her, I see the shadow of my child self from those many years ago. I recall the days of practicing with Itachi, , when all I wanted was his approval. Whatever he advised, I followed, whatever he said, I listened.
And I wonder if he ever looked at me and saw what I now see: a little child full of energy and ambition and wanting nothing more than to be recognized. I wonder if he ever cared, even in the corners of his mind, but it's something I'll never know.
I am not my brother.