Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Author's Note:
Exam Week.
Chapter 25
…:::Mad World:::…
Gary Jules
WARNING: Strong language. Drug mention.
Sasuke did not go back to sleep after Itachi had closed his eyes. He had crawled out of his bed instead, leaning over to grab his charging prosthesis without trying to disturb his brother.
His hands were shaking.
No, they're not, he told himself as he fixed his prosthesis into place, but even the voice in his head wavered. He wandered out into the living room and to the kitchen. The alarm clock would be ringing in a simple two and a half hours. What was the point of going back to sleep?
He did not want to admit he was afraid of going back to sleep. Not with Itachi like that. Not with Itachi delirious and drunk and in his own bizarre version of cocaine withdrawal.
Not with Itachi acting human.
Sasuke was still having a hard time believing his brother was mortal and wounded.
He sat for an hour at his kitchen table, drinking milk from its carton and nibbling on a toaster waffle. He didn't know what he was doing, or what he was going to do. When the sun began to rise, he left the table and went to shower and dress as if he was heading to school.
Dripping wet, he came out in nothing but a towel (his bruise darker from Itachi's grip) and stood over his sleeping brother, watching him silently. Itachi did not look like he once had. The ugly bruises hid his face. His shortened hair was unrecognizable.
Sasuke frowned and averted his attention to the clock. Five twenty-three in the morning. Tsunade had woken up twenty-three minutes ago and was probably at the breakfast table looking over medical documents.
Perfect timing.
He finally picked up the phone and dialed her cell phone number. She picked up almost immediately.
"Good morning, Uchihas," she said rather cheerfully. Sasuke held the phone away from his ear. Her voice was too loud for his liking.
"Right," he replied monotonously. "You've got your first patient of the day waiting for you."
". . . Itachi, right?"
"Yes."
Her sigh was audible over the phone. "Is he awake?"
"Sleeping."
"I'll be over in a few minutes."
Sasuke stopped her before she could hang up on him. "And thanks for lying to me," he told her with as much subtle venom as he could muster.
He hung up first.
He took the liberty of preparing tea for three people, partially because Tsunade was coming, partially because he knew Itachi would need something when he woke up, and mostly because he wanted some himself.
Tsunade knocked on the door several minutes later. Sasuke took his time, just to pleasure himself. He picked up a stray strand of hair from the carpet, straightened an already-perfectly-aligned painting, and brushed invisible dust from one of the shelves to his right before he finally ventured over and turned the doorknob.
"I was in the shower," he offered as an excuse, and his still-soaked hair backed him up.
Tsunade did not seem annoyed (to Sasuke's own annoyance) and she took her own liberty of entering into the living room. She held a medical kit at her side.
"I didn't lie to you," she told Sasuke over her shoulder.
"A bloody nose from alcohol consumption?"
"Okay, I lied."
Sasuke grew aggravated at her uncaring tone as he followed her into his brother's room. "Did you think I wouldn't find out later?"
"Yes, actually." She stood over Itachi, grimacing. "I didn't think the affects of the cocaine would carry on after the meds I gave him. What's wrong with him?"
"How should I know?" Sasuke snapped. "I was the one that called you."
She closed her eyes in annoyance and let her doctoral patience take over. "What happened? Signs? Symptoms? Was he screaming about bugs in his skin?"
Sasuke gave her a look that accused her of growing an extra head. "Bugs?"
"Coke bugs."
He shook his head. "No bugs or whatever. He was just talking really fast and he was delirious, like he was talking to me, but not really talking to me."
Sasuke didn't know how to explain what he saw. His brother had spoken to him, yes, but had he really heard him? Had he really been waiting for Sasuke's answers? The pain he felt from the abuse to his bruise yesterday came back intensely. He winced.
"It was like he kept seeing things instead of me."
He vaguely wondered if that was what he had seemed like when he was getting his hallucinations.
"And he kept saying he wanted more, but he told me to stop him."
"Did he do anything unusual? Rubbing his arms a lot? Sneezing incessantly? Strange spurts of blood?"
Sasuke watched her take out a light to inspect the depths of Itachi's nostrils. "Rubbing," he replied absentmindedly. "And he kept shaking me."
Tsunade gently shook Itachi's shoulder to get him to open his eyes. The Uchiha did so almost immediately. He groaned at the bright light of Tsunade's medical flashlight shining into his dilated eyes.
"How do you feel?" she asked him quietly. "Still craving?"
"Mm," Itachi moaned in agreement.
He started rubbing his arms again. Sasuke turned questioningly to Tsunade.
"He needs medication for a while," she said. "And a supervisor. There's a chance he can go into an attack, and he needs someone to watch over him. The medication is going to make him weak when he uses it."
Kakashi was out of the question, and Sasuke knew he wouldn't be able to handle Itachi if he was to go into an attack.
"I'll call Kisame."
o.o.O.O.o.o
Kisame, having not heard about anything, was in shock when he was suddenly called at six in the morning. He did not say anything over the phone for several minutes before he promised to be there in thirty seconds or less to pick up the incapacitated Uchiha.
When he got to the Uchiha household, his surprise only heightened.
"What the hell happened?" he had exclaimed upon seeing the transformed image of Uchiha Itachi. "What's going on with the world?" [1]
I ask myself that everyday, Sasuke had answered dryly in his own thoughts.
Kisame had helped the somewhat-conscious Itachi to his car with Sasuke trailing behind to be dropped off at school. And so Sasuke now sat in English with a new writing assignment in front of him and a new questioning glance from Kurenai.
"You're looking pretty unhealthy," she commented. "Sick?"
"Yeah," Sasuke muttered, mentally adding, of life.
I don't look sick. I can't look sick. I've been getting healthier and training.
What training? his own mind contradicted.
I've been eating.
Yeah. Toaster waffles.
Sasuke turned to Naruto. "Do I really look unhealthy?"
"You lost some weight again," Naruto supplied. He fiddled with his pencil awkwardly. "Seriously. What's been going on at home?"
"Itachi issues," Sasuke replied, and said no more.
P.E. took his mind off of things. They were in the gymnasium with gymnastics equipment set up over the vast area. Gai skipped across the room with ribbons flowing behind him.
"The beauty and grace of gymnastics!" he cried, tears coming to his eyes. "Boys, I want you to float! Float and let your youth soar!"
He took the boys as a group to each of the stations he had set up, instructing them as they moved from one piece of equipment to the next.
"The balance beam is one of the most versatile pieces of equipment," he explained when everyone had gathered around. "It takes skill and the balance of your youths to master this seductive beauty!"
They were told to walk across its entire length. Those who fell off would have to do a "lap of youth." Sasuke walked across it with relative ease, his arms at his sides and his head staring directly in front of him. Gai noticed this with a twinkle in his eye.
"Uchiha!" he exclaimed. "Your youth shines with skill! Flip for me!"
Sasuke raised an eyebrow. "Flip?"
"On the beam! A front flip, if you would please!"
"Coach, that's crazy," said an anonymous boy from the back of the class. "He'll break his neck."
Sasuke's eyes glinted. The boy had challenged him, and he was going to step up to the challenge. He smirked, nodded his head, and put his hands out in front of him. Gai watched with excitement. Naruto watched with fascination. Akira watched with boredom.
Very gracefully, very professionally, Sasuke's feet left the balance beam and his body twisted in the air, landing on his hands, and then on his feet once more without the slightest hint of unbalance. He walked the remaining length of the balance beam and jumped back to the ground where he was met with a mixture of stares.
Gai was clapping loudly. "Such beauty! Such grace! Such skill!"
"Showoff," Naruto said good-naturedly.
Sasuke smirked. "I know."
Uchiha personality: check.
To Sasuke's surprise, Neji was one of the other two boys in the class who had skill in gymnastics. The Hyuuga made sure his hair was securely tied before he walked with relative ease onto the balance beam, flipped – not once, but twice -, and landed perfectly.
He glanced teasingly in Sasuke's direction, a mocking smirk playing with his lips.
"Flip that hair one more time for me, Hyuuga," Sasuke replied, an equal smirk plastered onto his face. "I knew you were too girlish for your own good."
"I'm not the one with the hourglass figure, Uchiha."
Sasuke, thinking quickly, pointed at Sai. "You shouldn't insult people when they're around."
Sai frowned and looked down at his belly-exposing shirt. He fixed the hem of it for a few seconds, still frowning. "It took me a while to get this figure just right."
The boys surrounding him took two steps back – one more, just for good measure.
Health Class sharply turned his mood around.
They were studying eating disorders.
"Anorexia," Zabuza explained twenty minutes into his lecture. "There are several different kinds. The one some of you are probably familiar with is anorexia nervosa, where the patient is unusually thin, usually with an unusual color to their complexion –"
"Like Sasuke?"
A girl in the back had her hand raised high, but she had not waited to be called on. Everyone turned to stare at her before their eyes slowly changed course to Sasuke.
Sasuke's eyes widened slightly at the attention he was receiving. He shook his head, trying to indicate that he wasn't anorexic.
Did he look that thin?
Did he really look that unhealthy?
"Um . . . no," Zabuza said awkwardly, trying to regain the class' attention. "No, Uchiha's not anorexic. He's just really thin. Haku, over here, was actually anorexic at the age of eleven . . ." [2]
But Sasuke wasn't listening, and neither were a few people who had chosen to look at him closely, trying to decipher whether or not he was really anorexic now that the suggestion had been brought up.
Sakura took pity on the Uchiha that had taken to examining his wrists.
"You don't look anorexic," she tried to assure him. "That's just Yuna. Huge retard. Major bitch. Don't pay any attention to her."
Of course he wasn't paying attention to her. He was too busy paying attention to himself.
His mind was a whirlwind with questions and paranoia up until his after school detention when Kakashi came to escort him to the band room.
"Do I look unhealthy?" he quickly asked his mentor as they walked through the silenced halls.
Kakashi turned to stare at him. "Well, you haven't been training well, and you've been through a lot of anxiety in the past days. It's only natural that you look overworked, but with a few days' proper rest and a better diet, you'll be fine."
"So I look unhealthy," said Sasuke bluntly.
"Yes."
Sasuke was instructed to sort piles of sheet music into their proper folders and in the proper order of instruments. Yamato, the music instructor, opened the door to the Uchiha and allowed him into the room he had never been in before. [3]
"Is it possible to give me a break?" asked Sasuke before Kakashi had the chance to walk away. "You can't let me off of the hook so I can go home and train?"
Kakashi turned around and waved, calling over his shoulder, "You should've thought of that before you beat up that kid."
"Sasuke!"
The bubbly voice came from within the band room. Sasuke did not have to turn around to realize it was Naruto. Yamato turned him around nonetheless, leading him to the desk covered in sheet music.
Naruto was in the center of the spacious room, sitting in a chair with an acoustic guitar in his hands and a stand in front of him. Kiba was at his side on the drum kit.
"A Shop kid is entering the Band Room! It's a conspiracy!" Kiba said in mock exclamation, his drumstick-bearing hand pointing at the Uchiha.
Naruto laughed melodically. "He's here for detention, idiot. Yamato's been trying to get those papers sorted since the beginning of the year."
"I've written the order of instruments down on the board over here, Uchiha," Yamato said from the white board in the center of the room. It was a rather extensive list. "The folders are all labeled. Enjoy."
"Greatly," Sasuke replied dryly.
He turned to stare at Naruto and Kiba as he passed them.
"What are you two doing after school, anyway?"
"Practicing!" said Naruto, his voice loud with enthusiasm. "The spring concert I mentioned a long time ago is a few days before the marathon, so we really need to get our song straight."
"Falling Up to Heaven?"
Sasuke's memory came back to him. His ears remembered the soft, soft chords of Naruto's guitar as he sung the unfinished lyrics.
"You finally finished writing it?"
"With help from yours truly," Kiba said with a grin. "I practically wrote the rest of the song."
"I want that work finished!" Yamato called from his office.
Sasuke turned around to continue towards the pile of papers. Naruto's silence was short-lived.
"You know," he began, "we could really use a piano player."
"Not interested."
"Oh, come on!" said Naruto. "It'll be really fun! You can make up anything."
"Uchiha's a piano player?"
"Not interested."
"Think about it. Please?"
An hour later, after Sasuke had finished sorting every piece of music in the vicinity, his hands glided over the smooth keys of the grand piano as Naruto's velvety broke the still air and Kiba's hands moved gently to play a beat.
o.o.O.O.o.o
Kisame's house.
Big, blue, and bizarre.
Sasuke walked down the cobblestoned walkway to the front door of the man's house, his hands in his pockets and the tune of Falling Up to Heaven in his head. It was not easy to miss the man's house, he thought to himself as the wooden door came closer and closer. After all, it was the only house in all of Konoha with a large pond smack-dab in the middle of the lawn.
It was Kisame's pride and joy, his lawn. Filled with over ten different kinds of fish and amphibians, he tended to it every day, making sure each and every living organism was well-fed and well-groomed. Not a single animal had died since he first had the pond.
Miracles.
Sasuke rapped the door sharply with his knuckles. He had been about to turn around to admire the view, but Kisame suddenly answered the door with a finger to his lips to gesture for silence.
A finger to his bloodied lips.
Sasuke stared at the man, slightly taken aback. A bruise on Kisame's left cheekbone complemented the blood that crusted his lips and his wildly-ruffled hair.
"What happened?" the Uchiha asked in worry. "Did Itachi do this to you?"
"Let's talk inside, kid," whispered Kisame.
He led Sasuke over the threshold and into the living room. Sasuke's eyes swept over the aquatic-themed area in a second's glance. Nothing had changed since he had last been in Kisame's house months ago; the living room was still very simple, yet stylish with its retro furniture and its ornaments hanging about in a feng shui fashion.
Kisame rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Itachi kind of went into attack mode on me," he said sheepishly. "I wouldn't let him out of the house, so he swung a few punches before I could sedate him."
"Is he ok–?"
Sasuke caught himself, seeing Kisame wince in pain as he touched the bruise on his cheekbone. He changed the subject of his question. In a softer tone, he asked, "Are you okay?"
Kisame grinned.
"Yeah, I'm fine, kiddo. Your brother's black belt in karate got me right in the jaw and nose. I was bleeding like mad all over the place."
"How's Itachi? Is he stable?"
"As stable as an unconscious man can get."
Kisame led the way to the guestroom where Itachi was laid out on a queen-sized bed, his visible hand poorly bandaged. Despite the intense heat of the summer that lashed at any passerby, a humidifier sat quietly in the corner of the room, covering the area in a blanket of mist.
Sasuke wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and stood to look over his brother sadly. He brushed a few damp strands of his brother's shortened hair from his sunken eyes.
"So he's still addicted?" he asked quietly.
"Afraid so."
Sasuke sighed. He sat on the corner of the bed and stared at the other adult in the room.
Once upon a time, he had thought adults were a special haven of their own. He thought as long as there was an adult, he was safe. As long as there was an adult, that adult would protect him from everything, help him along, and always be there when he needed him most. [4]
Then he saw his father's true self, and he thought that he had always thought his father was not the ideal parent.
But then his mother showed her mortal form, and he thought even angels needed to make sacrifices.
But then, as he stood over Itachi in that one moment, he knew that just because adults were older than he was, it didn't mean they were perfect. It didn't mean they were the solution to every problem.
Or maybe it was just the Uchihas.
"Why?" he asked Kisame.
But Kisame was an adult, and Sasuke didn't expect answers.
"It's like this," Kisame replied, oblivious to the young Uchiha's thoughts. "Cocaine makes you feel really good. And Itachi's been going through a really hard time lately. He wants a break. He wants to feel really good. So when he took the cocaine, he had a taste of something that makes him feel on top of the world."
He turned to Sasuke now, his face set in utmost graveness as he spoke. "If you finally feel on top of the world, do you think you'd want to fall back to where you were before?"
Sasuke shook his head. "But why not feel good because of something else? We had so much fun together . . ."
He trailed off when he had figured out the answer for himself. Kisame voiced the conclusion for him.
"You weren't the only one busy trying to make everyone happy in life, Sasuke."
Sasuke brushed another stray strand of hair from Itachi's face absently. He sighed once more.
"Do you mind keeping him for another day?" he asked Kisame. "I mean, you can give him a heavy sedation to make sure he'll stay unconscious until you come back from work today, but tomorrow's Saturday, so you'll have a free weekend."
Kisame smiled softly. "No problem," he said. "I bet you didn't know my full name is Uchiha Kisame."
Sasuke smiled to enlighten the man, but he grimaced on the inside.
You don't want our last name, he thought. You're a good adult.
o.o.O.O.o.o
"Concentrate, Sasuke."
"I'm concentrating."
"No, you're not. You're holding the resistance bands the wrong way."
"I'm concentrating."
Kakashi looked down at the Uchiha struggling on the floor with the exercise equipment he had been given. He put his hands on his hips.
"Keep focused."
"I'm focused!"
"No, you're not."
"I've got bigger priorities, Kakashi!"
Sasuke threw the resistance bands from him irritably and laid on the floor, panting harshly, his shirtless body bearing a thin sheen on sweat, his bruise seemingly pulsating with mind-numbing pain.
Kakashi knelt down beside him. "There's nothing you can do about Itachi right now. The help he needs is way beyond the help you can give him."
"I can make him happy," said Sasuke. "I shouldn't be training. I should be with him."
"How happy can you make a sedated man? Sasuke, if you keep thinking this way, the marathon you've been hoping to win will slip away from your hands."
Sasuke grumbled and took hold of the resistance bands once more. He pulled them sharply, straining both his arm muscles and his bruise, but he did not care in the least. He thought the pain would numb eventually.
Eventually.
Naruto came in as Kakashi was about to leave. Kakashi had opened the door seeing as Sasuke, who was barely conscious on the couch with his chest heaving, was unable to.
"Hey, Naruto," Kakashi said softly with a ruffle of the blonde's sun-spun spikes. "Take care of the Uchiha. Mr. Emo Prince over here is wallowing in misery and physical pain."
"Emo King," Naruto corrected with a smile as Kakashi left.
The blond turned to stare at Sasuke. He stood behind the couch and leaned over it, staring down at Sasuke's sweat-covered face.
"So what's crack-a-lackin'?" he asked cheerfully.
"Have you been taking vocabulary lessons from Kisame?"
Naruto laughed. Sasuke envied the melodic jingle that emitted sincerely from his throat. Why couldn't his laughter sound the same?
"No, seriously. What's been going on?"
Sasuke finally sat up, wincing. Naruto could not help cringing as his eyes rested upon the bruise that practically swallowed Sasuke's chest.
"That thing's still there?"
"Fucking Akira," Sasuke said darkly as he stood to grab his shirt from the nearby couch. "Why are you here in the first place?"
"I came to see if you wanted to hang out. It's a Friday night. Being cooped up all day isn't good for you."
"Sorry. Not interested."
Naruto gave a twisted grin. "That's the same thing you said about playing the piano." He busied himself by inspecting a painting behind him. "Did you know that a lack of sunlight actually causes depression? It's because you're not getting enough serotonin."
Sasuke's eyebrows rose slightly. "Learn something in science at last?"
"I'm not stupid, if that's what you're trying to hint."
Sasuke scoffed. "I don't hint anything. If I want to tell you I think you're stupid, I'll tell you."
"So you don't want to head to the café?"
The Uchiha took his time answering the question. He rubbed his sore muscles, flexed his legs, and prodded his bruise shortly before finally sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Not today, Naruto," he said. "Maybe some other weekend."
Naruto shrugged lightly. "That's fine. It's too hot out, anyway. Do you mind if I stay?"
"I'd like that," Sasuke said with a smirk.
"Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"
"Don't push it."
"Damn."
o.o.O.O.o.o
Saturday, Sasuke woke up at noon with a full twelve hours of sleep. Naruto had left at eleven o'clock the night before with only a few words spoken between the boys, but all of the words said.
The young Uchiha set on his way to check up on Itachi once more. Kisame opened the door without the slightest hint of a new bruise or cut, but there were deep bags beneath his eyes.
"He's not here," the shark-resembling man mumbled wearily. "He went to work."
"Work?" Sasuke asked curiously. Kisame gestured for him to enter. "You let him go to work like that?"
Kisame rubbed one hand over his face and tried to stifle a yawn. "He snuck out when I dozed off for a few minutes. I called the department store and they said he checked in."
"Why do you look like you're about to drop any second?"
Groan.
"Your brother's been having nightmares."
Sasuke was somewhat taken aback before a strong sense of guilt washed over him. He had dumped his brother onto Kisame, and even the adult man was no match for Itachi on crack – literally.
"I swear to the fishes, Uchiha Sasuke, if you dare to even take a whiff of cocaine, I will have you slaughtered and cut up into tiny pieces. Then, I will take those tiny pieces and feed them to little fish, and I'll feed those little fish to bigger fish, and then I'll feed those bigger fish to sharks, and then –"
"The side effects are that bad?" Sasuke asked, not waiting for an answer.
"Moody little bugger, that Itachi is," Kisame said with a grimace. "The one time he finally shows emotions, it's attitude. It's like how you get when you wake up. Grumpy and ugly."
"I'm not ugly when I wake up."
"So you don't deny the grumpy part!"
Sasuke rolled his eyes. "What kind of nightmares could a cocaine addict possibly have?"
"You tell me. He doesn't want to speak to anyone."
Guilt and annoyance were battling with Sasuke's conscience, mingling with exhaustion from yesterday's workout to force the Uchiha to lean against the nearest wall. The sigh that escaped his lips was shuddering.
"Look, Kisame, I'll take care of him now," he said, defeated. "He's being really difficult right now, so I don't want you to have a hard time –"
"Oh, heck no."
Kisame shook his head fervently, wagging his finger at the same time to create a bizarre, nauseating contortion of shaking.
"If he's being difficult with me, do you honestly think you can put up with him? You need to focus on winning that marathon, kiddo. Leave the sedative injecting, Itachi struggling, and apron wearing to me."
"But he's –"
"I'll pick him up from work, give him his meds, and he'll be sleeping like an upturned goldfish in no time."
"Kisame –"
"Scram, kid! It's a Saturday! Sleep in! Take a walk! Get some gigs at the café! You're only sixteen years old. There's got to be a lot more fun things to do than hang around waiting for your brother to get home."
Sasuke frowned.
He almost didn't remember he was sixteen. Just sixteen. Only sixteen. He didn't feel like he was a teenager anymore. He felt older. Much older.
"Call me?" Sasuke asked before he left.
Kisame grinned. "With pleasure. Now go play with Barbies or something."
Friday wasn't any better. Kisame had called Sasuke early in the morning to tell the Uchiha that his brother had gone to work once more. He had come home at the right time with a silent, brooding aura, had taken his medication, and had fallen asleep immediately.
"Nightmares?" Sasuke had asked.
"Not tonight."
Sasuke had gone to the café, free for as many gigs as Temari had to offer, but she could only give him three time slots. She said Sunday was a busy day, and there were five time slots open in a row, but she would not give them all to Sasuke for performance reasons. Despite Sasuke being an amazing performer, she said, she did not want the music to be repetitious.
When Sasuke returned home, Kisame had called, informing Sasuke that Itachi had returned.
"May I talk to him?" asked Sasuke.
"Sure, hold up."
Kisame's voice distanced as his mouth moved away from the phone to speak to Itachi.
"Itachi, Sasuke wants to talk to you."
Pause. Sasuke could not hear what Itachi was saying, but Kisame's replies gave Itachi's responses away.
"What do you mean you don't want to talk to him?"
Pause.
"Itachi, get back here! Hey! Son of a batch of cookies . . ."
Kisame's voice was clearer now as he spoke directly to Sasuke. "Listen, Sasuke –"
"I heard. Thanks."
And he hung up.
He had awoken on Monday to yet another empty house, with the food stocks running low despite his efforts at the café. The toaster waffles were finished. Everything else needed to be cooked, or boiled, or put in the microwave, and Sasuke was in no mood to wait on anything. He simply guzzled a cup of orange juice, grabbed his work-heavy bag, and headed outside.
The media was absent. Then again, so was Neji. The boy had not shown up at his usual spot after Chemistry. Sasuke noticed Naruto grimace.
"What's wrong with Hyuuga?" he asked the blond.
"Neji's uncle isn't a very nice guy," was all Naruto replied with, leaving Sasuke to imagine the Hyuuga hanging from the ceiling by his shoelaces.
Rather than a lunch detention with Ibiki, Sasuke received a lunch detention from someone else:
The Sound 5.
Jirobo pulled Sasuke in unexpectedly and slammed him against an all-too-familiar wall. Sasuke let out a scream of agony as his bruise was abused and clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes against the pain that had been awakened.
"Jirobo, you asshole! Don't hurt the fucker!"
Sasuke felt the fists digging into his shoulders remove themselves. He slid slowly against the wall until he was touching the floor, opening his eyes at last to stare up at Tayuya.
"Uchiha," she said quietly. "He's getting worse."
Blink. Blink.
Nothing had rung a bell.
"What are you talking about?" he whispered.
"Kimimaro, fucktard!" she exclaimed. "He's getting worse! His breathing is changing and he's coughing up blood like there's no fucking tomorrow!"
Sasuke cast his eyes to the floor, waiting for Tayuya to continue her explanation. For once, he did not want to interrupt her with a sarcastic comment. He looked up shortly to fix his eyes upon her slightly-prominent belly before returning his gaze to the tiles.
"And if he doesn't get an operation to fix that lung of his . . ."
Tayuya did not finish her sentence. Sasuke's mind finished it for him.
He's going to die.
An innocent teenager is going to die because his life is unfair.
"And that's where you come in."
She nudged him roughly with her foot so he would look up at her.
"We need you to win that marathon."
Sasuke's confused eyes told her to continue.
"That prize money at the end is five times the amount we need for Kimimaro's operation. If we could just have a thousand dollars . . ."
She trailed off once more, waiting for Sasuke's reaction. The Uchiha did not move for several seconds, running the numbers through his head.
"Don't make me beg, Uchiha! We're willing to do anything! We'll even pay you back when we can!"
Sasuke nodded his head ever-so-slowly.
"Fine," he whispered hesitantly. "If I win the marathon, I'll give you a thousand dollars for his operation."
Kimimaro had saved his life. Twice. If Tayuya cared about him enough to practically beg, then he was someone important to someone else. He had a purpose in life. And it wasn't fair that simply because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, he was now barely alive with a prosthetic lung eating away at him from the inside.
If Sasuke hated anything more than the world, it was when innocent people had to die.
Tayuya did not move. She stood over Sasuke, her hand outstretched to pull him up.
"What's the catch?" she asked when he was looking down at her for a change.
Sasuke shook his head. "He saved my life. But I can't guarantee I'll win the marathon."
"You'll win it," Tayuya said with a small smirk.
Sasuke's mind added an "or else."
"Why can't you raise enough money?" he asked as they stood there awkwardly.
"Only Kidomaru and I have jobs, and we get paid minimum wage. It's much quicker to win the money and pay it back later than it is to save it up. We . . . don't really know how much longer Kimimaro's going to hold out."
At the surprised look Sasuke's face gave when Tayuya mentioned her job, the fuchsia-haired woman grimaced.
"We're not fucking criminals," she said. "We're a gang, but we don't rob banks or sell weed and all that shit. We just don't want anyone to fucking mess with us."
"Right."
Sasuke slapped himself mentally at the thought of mourning over a thousand dollars. He felt the power of money suddenly. Just the simple knowledge of losing a thousand dollars saddened him slightly.
He hated money.
"Thanks, Uchiha," said Tayuya. "No, hey – thanks, Sasuke."
"I'll do anything to throw off karma," he replied.
Tayuya did not understand, and he thought it was better that way. He did not want karma to kill Kimimaro.
"Tell Kimimaro I'm praying for him, okay?"
"Do you want to see him?"
The question was sudden. Sasuke's reaction time was slower. He paused for a moment.
"Ibiki's already going to kill me. I have detention, and then I have Health class –"
Tayuya suddenly grabbed his wrist roughly and was already running with him out of the school.
What am I doing?! Sasuke screamed at himself. Ibiki will kill me! Kakashi will kill me!
He was pushed into a familiar sleek blue Honda® in the student parking lot – the very same Honda® he had been in when he and Tayuya had been fervently making out.
Jirobo was suddenly in the driver's seat. Sasuke blinked in surprise, having not seen the large boy – man?! – run.
"You can't keep making excuses, Uchiha," Tayuya told him as they drove away. "You've got to live for the moment, especially when someone's as sick as Kimimaro. Say hello now so you won't regret it if you never get to say hello again."
Sasuke hated himself for feeling surprised at Tayuya's sudden wisdom.
The exchange of words was scarce before they reached the apartment Sasuke had seen once. The streets were empty. Everyone was at work or school, and those who weren't were intelligent enough not to walk outside on such a scorching day.
Jirobo led the way. Sasuke felt like he was the bodyguard of the group. He had a feeling if he pulled out a gun and fired at Tayuya from a mile away, Jirobo's body would suddenly replace Tayuya's in the blink of an eye.
That, or Jirobo would appear right in front of Sasuke, wrench the gun from his hand, rip his arm off, and feed it to his piranhas.
Sasuke thought the latter was most likely.
Tayuya knocked on the first door inside of the apartment.
"It's me, fucker."
The door opened to reveal Kidomaru, his face lined with weariness. "What the hell are you doing out of school – what the hell is he doing here?!"
Tired brown eyes had met wary obsidian ones.
Tayuya pushed herself inside, pulling Sasuke by the wrist behind her. "Don't get so riled up, you pussy. He's going to pay for Kimimaro's operation. He just wants to say hi."
Sasuke stared around the smallish apartment for a few moments as he passed the living room. The walls were a fading shade of blue, with a few chipping pieces here and there, but the overall condition of the apartment was clean. It was simplistic, with only a single set of furniture in the corner of the room and a small kitchen.
It reminded Sasuke of his own apartment, except without the paintings and photographs.
Kimimaro was in the second bedroom of the apartment. Tayuya did not knock on his door. She simply pushed it open and beckoned Sasuke in.
"Kimi?" she whispered at the motionless bulge on the bed in the corner.
Sasuke found a knot in his throat awfully hard to swallow. His steps were slowed, reluctant. He felt intrusive all of a sudden. Kimimaro lay soundlessly beneath thick gray sheets. Only a simple IV drip connected with the sallow skin of his hand. Sasuke remembered Tsunade giving the mechanism to him a long time ago.
Sasuke tried not to think about where Kimimaro would be if she hadn't.
Emerald was suddenly contrasting brightly and beautifully against the dull colors of the room. Kimimaro's eyes were open.
"Uchiha wanted to say hi," she told him.
Offside, she told Sasuke not to mention anything about the operation. The Uchiha nodded.
"I heard you were really sick," he began uncomfortably. "Tayuya thought I should give you my wishes in person."
A smile played with Kimimaro's lips. "I am not as sick as you think I am," he said in a weak voice.
"Oh yeah," Tayuya said sarcastically. "Throwing up blood doesn't make you sick at all. That's totally normal."
"I do not want to keep you long," Kimimaro continued anyway, the smile still on his chapped lips. "If I know Tayuya well enough, she has pulled you out of school without a second's thoughts to the consequences."
Sasuke smirked. "She told me to live for the moment."
"And indeed, she is right."
A comfortable silence blanketed them, but Kimimaro could not handle the extra layer, and he did not think Sasuke would appreciate the burden, either. He continued.
"You must be feeling rather awkward, with a loss for words," he said.
Sasuke raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Psychic powers?" he asked jokingly.
"The best in the business. It's called logic."
Sasuke laughed.
Laughed.
"I like your laugh," Tayuya told him. "Stop looking like a fucking prick all the time and laugh more."
She liked his laugh?
Sasuke did not think his laugh was likeable. He preferred Naruto's melodious, innocent laugh.
"I hate my laugh," he said to feed the conversation. "I sound evil."
Kimimaro's smile only widened and he closed his beautiful, beautiful eyes. "I like it," he agreed with Tayuya. "It makes you sound younger."
Sasuke didn't know what he was feeling. He was happy. Jovial. Something inside of his gut was bubbling. It was such a small compliment. A simple "I like your laugh" had sent his emotions into turmoil and confusion and now he did not know which one to pick.
They liked his laugh.
"Thanks," he whispered. "I don't get to hear your laugh."
"Tell me a joke," Kimimaro said. "I love jokes."
Tayuya rolled her eyes. "He says he loves jokes, but he just listens to them with this single expression on his face. He never laughs. He'll just say he thought the joke was funny, but he'll never laugh."
"Tell me a joke," repeated Kimimaro. "Please?"
". . . I don't know too many jokes," said Sasuke. "I can't really –"
"Please?"
Sasuke silenced.
"He thinks anything is funny, Uchiha. Just give it a whack."
Sigh.
"Okay, this worker needed a few days off of work because he was really tired," he said, remembering a joke Kisame had told him a long time ago when Itachi had just begun to crack beneath the pressures of work. "But he knew the boss was too strict. He thought maybe if he could act insane, they would let him take a few days off.
"So he hung himself upside down from the ceiling and began to make funny noises. A co-worker asked him what he was doing. He said he was pretending to be a light bulb so the boss would think he was crazy and would let him off of work for a few days."
Sasuke had to take a breath to finish the joke. "A few minutes later, the boss came in and found the worker and asked him what he was doing. The worker said he was a light bulb. The boss let him have a few days off, thinking he was too stressed.
"Happy, the worker jumped down and walked out of the room. When his coworker followed him out, the boss asked him where he thought he was going. The coworker said, 'I'm going home, too. I can't work in the dark.'"
Sasuke waited, feeling like an idiot. He did not find the joke funny in the first place. Tayuya was smirking at him, except Sasuke was not sure whether it was because she was humored or because she was laughing at Sasuke's embarrassment.
But Kimimaro's mouth suddenly opened.
And he was laughing.
Laughing.
It was a soft, slightly hoarse sound that came from his vocal chords and it lasted for a while, breaking the awkwardness in the air. Tayuya looked absolutely shocked.
"You're laughing!" she exclaimed. "At the most retarded joke ever! What the hell?! Why don't you laugh at my jokes?! At least I tell them with expression! Uchiha over here had the same fucking voice the whole time!"
"His monotony was the funny part," Kimimaro said with a soft smile on his face, his eyes scrunched in good humor. "It was an excellent attempt."
Sasuke felt proud.
The good kind of pride.
"I like your laugh," he said quietly.
"As I do yours."
"Zabuza will kill me if I don't return," Sasuke said.
Kimimaro lifted his IV-bearing hand and motioned to the door. "Feel free."
"Thanks." He paused, searching for the right words. "Get better, Kimimaro. People are waiting for you."
"I'll have to get better if I want to hear any more of those monotonous jokes of yours, Uchiha Sasuke."
Sasuke let himself laugh.
Kimimaro smiled.
And Sasuke left.
o.o.O.O.o.o
"Therapy lesson number something."
Sasuke was seated in front of Kakashi that night, his hands crossed in his lap, his face indifferent. He had been the one to call the session. Kakashi noticed that he had gone back to hiding his emotions with inhuman accuracy.
"Uchiha Itachi."
"Is it really cocaine withdrawal?" Sasuke asked immediately. "He doesn't want to do anything. He doesn't even want to speak to me anymore."
"Kisame told me," the silver-haired man replied to his student. "And essentially, if Itachi's getting nightmares on top of everything, it has to be the withdrawal."
Sasuke rubbed his face with both of his hands. "When is he going to get better, Kakashi?" he asked tiredly. "I admit that I can't handle everything on my own."
"And you shouldn't be trying to, either. You're supposed to be sixteen, Sasuke. Not thirty. Don't try and grow up too fast."
"Too late for that."
Kakashi did not object.
"Why don't we call him now?" he asked. "He should be off of his department store shift."
"Kisame gives him his medication and he goes right to sleep."
"Then let's visit him."
"He'll be asleep."
"We'll wake him up."
"Are you insane?"
"Come on."
Sasuke seemed to be being led by everyone that day. He barely had time to lock his door before Kakashi was yanking at his arm and forcing him into his Jeep®, out of his Jeep®, down the walkway to Kisame's house, and through the bluish man's door.
"He's not asleep yet," said Kisame. He was smiling slightly. "And he's less grumpy today. I think the meds are really taking their course."
Itachi sat on the guestroom's bed, his face buried in his pillow and the clothes he had borrowed from Kisame strewn across the room, leaving him in nothing but boxer shorts and socks. Sasuke thought he looked rather comical.
"'Tachi?" he called.
Itachi didn't move.
Kakashi and Kisame slowly backed out of the room to leave the Uchiha brothers with their own privacy. Kakashi kept close to the door – just in case. He trusted Itachi, but he did not dare trust Itachi with cocaine running through his body.
"Itachi, come on. You didn't talk to me yesterday."
Itachi grumbled and buried his head further into the pillow.
"You're being worse of an asshole than I am."
Finally, Itachi turned around. His eyes were bloodshot and the bruises on his face were fading slightly, but he looked as alert as ever.
"What do you want from me?" he asked irritably.
"What kind of stupid question is that?" Sasuke snapped back. "I want my brother back. What the hell do you think you're doing? You don't act like this."
"I'm just trying to get through this withdrawal business," said Itachi.
"You shouldn't be in withdrawal in the first place! I can't believe you want more of that crap. Cocaine is a drug, Itachi. The ultimate low. I can't believe you want to be a part of that." He saw his brother open his mouth and moved to interrupt him immediately. "Don't feed me bullshit about how good it makes you feel! For five months, when I was going through all of that trauma after that accident, the thought of drugs didn't even cross my mind."
"You haven't felt it," Itachi said honestly. "You don't know what it's like to have this feeling that you know it's bad for you, but you just want more. I'm fighting it, Sasuke. I feel like I could drop dead any second, but I'm fighting it."
"So why wouldn't you talk to me yesterday?"
Itachi groaned and fell back onto the bed, putting his head into his pillow. "I don't want to talk to anybody right now. I want to stay in bed and go to sleep and wake up feeling better."
Sasuke's expression softened. "So you're really trying to fight it?"
"With my life."
Sasuke sighed. "You won't tell me the story?"
"Not yet."
"Will you come home eventually?"
Itachi turned onto his back to face his brother. He pulled Sasuke down by the front of his shirt and wrapped one arm around his thinned body, the other ruffling his spiky hair.
"Count on it."
o.o.O.O.o.o
When Sasuke returned home, alone, he found a surprise sitting at his doorstep:
Uzumaki Naruto.
The blond boy looked up at Sasuke with a serious expression.
"I want you to tell me what's going on, or I'm not leaving."
So Sasuke opened the door, let him inside, and told him.
He was sick of secrets.
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[1] Itachi's hair: I had a few suggestions of taking a picture of the drawing I made, and I was going to do that today. Then I realized that as I type this, it's 12:48 in the morning and I've been editing this chapter all day, and I still have a Biology test to study for tomorrow (which is stupidly right before the Biology exam on Tuesday . . .). But I promise I will have it for the next chapter.
[2] Anorexia Nervosa: It turns out you can get it at a very young age. I had a friend that had anorexia. It's not pleasant. She had to move away for doctoral treatment, but she is looking better than ever now.
[3] Sheet Music: I had to do this last year and coincidentally, today, we actually did this again during band. It does not take an hour! It took me four hours to finish everything. Then again, I'm not Uchiha Sasuke.
[4] Adults: I used to think so, too.
Excuse any mistakes. Excuse me if I didn't reply to your review. Things are just going downhill in life from here.