Hello, lovelies. Here's a new chapter for ya. Hope it pleases you magnificent creatures.
"I don't care if your hair looks shit. We gotta fuckin' go."
Naruto's words fell on deaf ears. He shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath to keep his calm. For twenty painfully long minutes, Sasuke had stood before the mirror fixing individual hairs, demolishing the blonde's will to live strand by strand. In general, Sasuke wasn't a feminine guy, but some of his tendencies were ones he'd never witnessed outside the vain world of women. Through years of experience, Naruto had learned that the man's face was a gift from gods and hair a national treasure, and no force in the world could prevent him from keeping both in pristine condition. Slumped against the doorframe and mere seconds away from a mental breakdown, Naruto hissed out thoughtless words.
"I'm shavin' your head while you sleep."
Without sparing a glance, Sasuke grunted a flat reply.
"You're one dumb sentence away from buyin' me more shiny things."
"I will marry you just to divorce your vain ass", Naruto growled, strangling the air between them.
Sasuke adjusted one last stray strand of hair before turning and flashing a spiteful smile.
"Deal." His smile dropped. "I'll be takin' every last penny you're worth."
He walked away, leaving Naruto to rip out his messy, unmaintained hair. Though sick of his friend's vainglorious nature, he couldn't blame the man for his foul mood. What truly vexed him was the fact of having to visit Suna. It unnerved him, yet the rumor of Akatsuki's leader residing somewhere in the city was a slim chance he couldn't leave unexplored. He wasn't sure how he'd feel were it to turn out to be true, didn't know how he'd handle it being false. But most of all, he feared he was playing way out of his league. He was a novice looking to fight veterans. Underdogs weren't known to survive unfair wars, let alone win them.
Even if he were to never return home, at least he could leave it at ease. Kiba had agreed to look after Thing, even promised to use his credit card to leave an electronic presence in his behalf. His absence at work he'd written off as a standard winter leave. It'd been only two days since Kakashi's rumor reveal. Given the short notice, he'd handled his affairs quite commendably.
Sighing, Naruto left the bathroom, grabbed his things and left the house. Sasuke waited in the car. Once seated behind the wheel, Naruto turned to gaze at his friend, his annoyance instantly spiking.
"Your hair looks the same", he stated with no tone whatsoever. "It looks exactly the fuckin' same as thirty minutes ago."
An ice cold glare turned to throw daggers at him. "Another watch. The gold one."
Naruto tore his stare away, swallowed a plethora of insults and started the car to leave the driveway faster than necessary. A half an hour drive later, they'd made it to the train station and, astonishingly, caught the train in time. About halfway into the ride, Sasuke dropped his hostility towards the blonde and turned to see him stare out the window, watching the scenery passing by. His blue eyes seemed dim and lifeless, his hand gripped the tag around his neck. A subconscious habit he'd taken up roughly six months ago. A safety blanket of sorts, Sasuke supposed.
After a while, the man's tired eyes closed and head tipped against the cool glass. It took him a full minute to bother opening them again and turn to face his friend. As always, Sasuke read his thoughts, but hadn't expected to hear them.
"I fuckin' miss him."
It wasn't often Naruto admitted it aloud. When he did, Sasuke always gave him the same reply.
"I know."
And that was the end of that conversation. They didn't really talk about him anymore. About Gaara. It never ended well. Though Naruto had forgiven Sasuke for his mistake all those months ago, it still came up every now and then, usually in the midst of an argument over something unrelated. Most often the fights turned physical. Nobody gained a thing from it. Therefore, the man wasn't mentioned. Sometimes absolute avoidance of touchy subjects was the only way to avoid conflicts.
It was painful to watch his friend's daily struggle to cope with his loss and its aftermath. Sasuke had done his best to be there. While careful not to push it too far, sometimes it was tough. Sometimes it was difficult to be there for him anymore. It wasn't that he cared less. He was simply tired. Tired of not being able to ease the blonde's pain. There were good days, there were bad days. The good days weren't perfect, but the bad days were pure hell. For both of them.
The bad days, the unstable days, they were often violent and deranged. Naruto would struggle to remain rational and functional, sometimes he failed at both. Sasuke had learned to know when to comfort him and when to keep his distance, but did make the wrong call every now and then. Those were the times he considered leaving in all seriousness. He stood on the edge of forfeit, but was yet to receive the final push. Every day he feared it'd come. What would happen if and when it did, he dreaded to even think about.
Lately, there'd been more bad than good days. Sasuke had noticed that the time span between the two had shortened drastically. The good ones fleeted by fast, the bad ones came as clusters. That was one reason why he worried about the blonde overworking himself. The more he worked and the less he slept, the fewer good days he had. In a way, the trip to Suna was a blessing in disguise. Though technically as much work as any other job, it did break the endless loop of the same old. Maybe the change would do him good.
"How are we supposed to find the guy?" Sasuke wondered, offering Naruto something else to think about.
Accepting the kind gesture, the blonde let go of the tag and tucked it back under his shirt.
"Dunno yet", he admitted. "Suna's got a big ghetto. I guess that's a good start."
Sasuke huffed. "I guess."
The rest of the ride was mostly silent, save for a few failed attempts to lighten the mood. When the train finally reached its destination, they wasted no time to get out and take on the vast city of Suna. Even that deep in the south, the chilly winter air had weaved its way in. The sunshine and lack of snow largely made up for it.
"Now what?" Sasuke grunted, glancing around. The crowded platform caused him claustrophobia.
Naruto shrugged. "Now we walk till we find a meth lab. The gang 'round here's on okay terms with the one back home."
Sasuke didn't seem all that convinced. "Do they do business with Yakuza?"
"I hope not."
"We're fucked if they do."
"Up the ass and down the throat."
With those reassuring words, they began their aimless walk around the town. About an hour into gradual frustration, Naruto spotted an officer taking speed readings across the street. Without a word, he crossed the road, leaving Sasuke to watch him go eyes wide. Declaring the blonde's idea disastrous, he ran to catch up with him. By the time he did, Naruto had already reached the cop.
"Yo. Wanna help out?" he asked to catch the man's attention.
The officer, a man in his fifties with the most absurd mustache imaginable, slowly turned to face him. From above his sunglasses the man studied him from head to toes, clearly unimpressed by the sight. Granted, when not stuffed into a suit, Naruto looked every bit as poor and misbehaving as he'd grown up.
"Yes?" the officer eventually huffed, audibly disinterested. Naruto let the dry tone slide.
"Worst shithole here, which way?"
The officer blinked slowly, twice. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah. Where is it?"
A considerable while of deadpan staring between both parties fleeted by. Eventually the officer shook his head. Wordlessly he took out a map and a pair of glasses. He replaced his sunglasses with the latter and unfolded the former. A second or two of squinting later he pointed out a remote area of the city.
"There", he stated, allowing the blonde a peek. "Part of town every sane person avoids like the plague."
He gave Naruto a sideways glance, silently declaring him one of them. Ignoring the look, the blonde took a moment to memorize the way there, then gave a pleased nod.
"Cool." Hesitation claimed him for a while, but passed. "The gang 'round here. Do they do business with the mob?"
Sasuke failed to suppress the mortified look on his face. The officer's already disapproving stare turned downright judgmental. Naruto couldn't blame him for feeling suspicious.
"Exactly what's your business here, son?" His voice expressed hostile doubt.
The blonde flashed an innocent grin. "Just, doin' research. Crime statistics."
Again, the cop scanned him up and down, not believing a word of it. The thin, sparse mustache above his upper lip quivered with disappointment towards the law and its limitations to a justified arrest.
"Good god", he mumbled, but was quick to gather himself. "I don't know about the gang's business. I don't patrol in their territory. But here, take the map with you."
"Oh. Well...thanks", Naruto mumbled, surprised by the kind offer.
The officer gave him a nod and cracked a close to spiteful smile. "See you at the station later on, boy. I'll come by your cell."
The blonde returned the grin. "Sure, old man. Rock that 'stache."
Unable to keep a straight face, the officer sent them off with a chuckle and lazy wave. Pleased enough, Naruto grabbed Sasuke by the arm and began dragging him and his sour face towards the heart of sleaziness.
The harsh contrast between the slum and downtown became evident as soon as they'd crossed the only river in town. The tall, well-maintained skyscrapers turned into rundown houses and rows of warehouses inhabited by the most unfortunate. The clean streets abruptly changed into a sea of litter and dirt, injection needles lying on the sidewalks. Malnutrition and disease was the prominent theme. Though Naruto had seen many forms of social ruin, but poverty this extreme took aback even him. This hell on earth was where Gaara had grown up, and he couldn't help but wonder how big of a part it'd played in how the man had turned out. Maybe most, maybe none. Maybe it was better not to know.
"This is worse than home", Sasuke mumbled, genuinely disturbed. "Just imagine the travel guide for this shithole. 'Welcome to Hell. In case you dream of catching a disease, try one of our brothels. Or step on a needle. It's up to you.'"
Naruto laughed. "What 'bout souvenirs?"
"Syphilis and a used rubber to take it home with ya."
"Granny's gon' love it."
The steep downhill of vile jokes met its end when Naruto noticed something more worthwhile. Across the street was a bar and outside it loitered a load of men, each one dodgier than the other. Just by the look of them, he could tell they'd found the worst joint in town, and thus, the place likeliest to offer answers to their many questions.
"Yo. Over there", Naruto said and nudged his friend. Sasuke followed the man's blue gaze and scowled at the find.
"You got to be shittin' me."
His reluctance went ignored. Left to watch the blonde approach the ghastly structure across the road, he briefly considered leaving him to die through unnecessary trouble all on his own, but as always, found himself following after the reckless man. The inside of the bar didn't dazzle any more than the exterior, but it wasn't the vile stench and strata of filth on every visible surface they found most off-putting. Above all, it was the roomful of piercing, lingering stares directed their way, each one declaring them outsiders and, likely, a threat. The hostile attitude repelled, but didn't surprise. They'd known to expect it. Hence the heavy but carefully concealed arms on both of them.
Unwanted confrontation was best avoided through humble disinterest. Head high, but chin down. No eye contact, preferably no sound and absolutely no sign of fear. Summarized, one must act as if locked in a cage with wild beasts, each one less predictable than the other. Naruto liked to think he'd mastered the art two weeks into knowing Gaara, but then again, not every wild beast was the same.
A guy, well over six feet tall, stood up from his seat and slowly approached them. Naruto ignored him and continued walking, until it became impossible. His path blocked and generally respectable height surpassed, he had to swallow his pride and tilt his head to acknowledge the man. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been forced to look up at someone. Definitely not since junior high. He would've had every reason to feel nervous, but didn't. Agitation was a distraction he'd learned to ignore after the third instance of missing a target and blowing a clean hit. But though calm and composed, he was smart enough to find a foot long knife a reasonable threat. Yet he pushed his luck by raising a brow, as if daring the man to use it. Given the smirk flashing on the guy's face, he was happy to. The speed at which it came forward surprised, but didn't astonish with its accuracy. What Naruto did worry about was the man less experienced in dodging blades designed to behead in one swift swing.
"Sit down", he told Sasuke, too busy evading another stab to spare a glance.
Sasuke pulled a scowl. His pride felt the sucker punch, but suffered in silence. Accepting his fate as the useless one, he took a seat among fifty glaring gangers and allowed the blonde a little peace of mind. The second long glance making sure he'd been listened to was a risk, and thus the shallow cut on his arm came as no shock. He took a quick look at it, realized he had no chance of handling this barehanded and reached for a blade of his own. Compared to the half a machete looking to finely slice him, it was far from the next best thing but his only alternative to a firearm—a choice that would've gotten him gunned down in a heartbeat.
The man was fast. Much faster than his bulky appearance suggested. Most of Naruto's time was wasted on dodging stabs by an inch, the rest he spent looking for something, anything, that might've given him an advantage. Somewhere between the first and fourth kick he'd landed on the breathing skyscraper, he'd realized the very real issue that their difference in height was. The guy's legs seemed to be of iron, torso a wall of bricks, and a kick in the groin would've been too low of a blow even in the face of death. Too proud to break the universal unwritten rule between all owners of a pair, he avoided yet another slash with a leap backwards, met a table back first and made the split second decision to jump onto it. An attempt that could've easily gone wrong, given that looking away or turning his back was a luxury he couldn't afford. The men gathered around it backed off to escape from the glass shattering under heavy combat boots, but none complained. Booze soaked clothes were well worth the entertainment value of a knife fight.
Not having expected the compensation for height, the one worth betting on failed to dodge both the stab at his shoulder and steel-toe kick square in the face. It sent him back several steps, each one more vital than the last. Between marveling at his fresh nosebleed and cursing himself for letting it happen, he avoided a smashed bottle neck by an inch or two. The blonde, who'd by then descended back to his respective height, became unfortunately aware of the vengeful look in his opponent's eyes. He made the mistake of letting it faze him. For the kick in the face he paid with a matching one. The pain of his back hitting the wall he supposed counted as payback for the bottle neck. And the stab in the shoulder, for that he paid with a long, deep slash across his chest. Long enough to travel the entire width of him, deep enough to have cut his shirt close to half. And quick enough to go unnoticed for several seconds.
Taken aback, Naruto fell against the wall. He spent a while watching the man and his knife, now bloody, before slowly lowering his gaze to see his chest. He brought his hand to touch the wound and shivered with disgust at the feel of slit skin. It didn't hurt, yet. His fingers came back red, the same shade that'd dyed his stomach. Frowning, he turned to glance at Sasuke. The man sat a few tables away, watching him with deadpan eyes. He seemed unimpressed, disappointed. Taking it as a command to pull his shit together, Naruto turned to meet a spiteful smirk. The obnoxious look of it irked him. While still high on adrenaline, he took off his jacket, ripped apart what remained of his shirt and threw away both. His tattoos seemed to come as a surprise, but questions concerning them weren't given a chance to be heard.
The pain now slowly announcing itself present was a reason to act quick and cruel. Naruto did notice the distracted look in his opponent's eyes, did acknowledge the intention to use words instead of arms, but frankly, had a gash too many to care. Everything he'd ever learned about fighting with grace and skill turned into a ten second countdown of nothing but reckless rage. At the tenth he threw his knife onto the nearest table, at the ninth he lunged at the man surprised by the irrational decision to disarm. The eighth he spent dodging a stab, the seventh throwing a kick at the man's chest. At the six second mark he grabbed a chair, at the fifth he used it to block another swing of a knife. The tip sunken in the wood withdrew at the fourth, at the third he broke the chair on the man's head, dropping him onto the table beside them. At the second he took a harsh hold of the other's wrist, pressed his hand hard against the table and grabbed the knife he'd abandoned. At the very last second, he lifted the blade high above his own head, brought it down and pierced the hand in its aim. It cut clean through and sank into the wood underneath. The loud groan of pain was but icing on the cake, yet no less welcome.
Watching the face twisting in agony, he calmly reached to take the knife its owner still loosely held onto. The man didn't put up a fight. Disarmed and nailed to a table, he had no choice but to admit defeat. Surprisingly, the blade pressed lightly against his throat didn't seem to worry him. If anything, he looked curious. The moment after, he mustered a low chuckle.
"I knew it. I know you", he claimed.
Naruto frowned, then scowled, then disagreed. "I doubt it."
The man shook his head. "Nah. I've met ya. Up north, East Side."
Naruto couldn't lie, it took him aback. It'd been years since he'd been recognized for something else than his respectable career in law, and hadn't expected an outsider to remember what'd preceded it. Not after this many years. He considered denying the claim, considered verifying it, but in the end did neither. He tore his gaze from the man to glance around. Despite the knife pressed against their fellow man's throat, nobody seemed worried enough to intervene. This guy, he had to be the boss of something or other. When the boss fights, nobody interrupts.
It was good news. The boss was bound to know the rumors of his empire, for practical reasons, if nothing else.
After one last glance at the guy, Naruto backed off. He let the man pull himself up, slide the knife out of his hand, seemingly without grave pain. For a moment, he paused to gaze at the wound before nodding in an impressed manner.
"Huh. Not bad for a guy two heads shorter", he admitted.
Naruto glanced down at his chest. The pain had arrived and the bleeding was yet to cease.
"Ain't any worse", he grunted, then lifted his gaze to express mild spite. "For anyone."
The guy narrowed his eyes, as if trying to decide whether or not to let the remark annoy. It seemed not to, or so his relaxed laughter suggested. Sasuke had bothered to drag himself over. He shook his head, looking judgmental.
"Really? Compliments?" he mumbled, forcibly turning the blonde to take a look at the harrowing wound. Not the prettiest he'd seen, but neither the worst.
"Dude, you sat on your ass while I was bein' cut in half. So how 'bout you just go fuck yourself", Naruto grunted, struggling not to hiss at the feel of fingertips brushing against the cut.
Sasuke dodged the insult altogether. "Fucked up a tattoo, but you'll live."
"Whatever. The world ain't out of ink", assured the blonde, slapping away his friend's invasive hand.
He took a sideways glance at the man watching them curiously. He knew the subject of who he was and why the guy remembered him would come up eventually, and supposed it'd be easier to take it up himself.
"I don't remember you", he told. It was true, he didn't.
"Don't blame ya", the man said and shrugged. "You were...fifteen, maybe. A brat with a reputation. We did business. Arms deal."
Naruto had no reason to doubt him. "I did business with a lot of people."
"I know", the other one chuckled. "Told ya, a brat with a reputation. And trademark scars."
Apart from a grunt, the blonde didn't bother with a reply. He was very self-aware of his scars. In court they often were frowned upon, outside it they attracted long stares. And occasionally, an old acquaintance from the past would recognize them, and consequently, him. Left without any significant reaction, the subject was dropped.
"You did good. You've earned yourself a reward", he told and paused to wait for a demand.
None came. So he suggested a few.
"Booze? Drugs?" He glanced to his right, pointing out a young woman barely of age. "This lovely lady?"
Naruto struggled not to express disgust. Not only did he find the last offer tasteless, but a definite STD hazard. He might've been bored of his own hand, but wasn't that desperate.
He pulled a forced smile. "A drink's fine."
Brief doubt flashed in the stranger's dark eyes. "Suit yourself."
Not much later, the three of them sat around a table, forcing small talk and sipping from their respective drinks. Naruto was halfway through his third glass of whiskey and an hour into ignoring the telling looks Sasuke would send his way every few minutes. After a glance downright furious, he decided the drink would be his last and slowed down the pace of demolishing it. To find a distraction other than alcohol, he subtly studied their new acquaintance creating meaningless chatter.
The guy was huge. Six foot five, maybe even taller, and wide as a barn door. Judging by the ink covering him from head to toes, face included, he must've lived an eventful life. He wore a bandanna and a hood on top of it covering his hair, but Naruto could spot a few brown strands sticking out from underneath. Though his tattoos leaned towards traditional, none quite matched those Yakuza considered meaningful. It gave him enough hope to pry about their relationship with the mob.
"You do business with Yakuza?"
The so far friendly look in the man's eyes darkened and light-hearted tone dropped.
"No."
The reply was short, flat, and above all, final. The tone of it leaned towards danger, but wasn't an attack on anyone in the room. It was hatred meant to keep those mentioned out of it.
"That's what you're here for?"
Though not meant to amuse, it did. Naruto shook his head and laughed.
"When your home's the devil's playground, why look for him elsewhere?"
Whether his reply pleased or not was difficult to figure out by silence alone, but at the very least, it seemed to pass as acceptable. Dark eyes found the floor and a frown home between them. The man released a grunt, one with a foul aftertaste.
"We got our devils. But they ain't one of 'em."
The blonde said nothing, expecting his content look to speak in his behalf. It did, but told nothing of his motive to be there. Ignorance always led to questions.
"What you want?"
"What you think?
The man pulled a face, not quite a scowl, but neither a frown. Something bitter in between. He took his sweet time pondering what to say, perhaps considered saying nothing at all. Admitting half a defeat, he leaned forward in his seat, laid an askance look on those across from him and nodded upwards. Though dubious, the duo took a brief glance up as suggested. Only after did the man agree to speak.
"Their name don't fit under my roof. Get it?"
Perhaps it was safe to assume they weren't the first ones to come around asking about Akatsuki and the Leader's potential whereabouts, nor would it have been preposterous to suppose there lay a story behind the man's obvious hatred towards the organization. Though it might've been worthwhile listening to, Naruto doubted it was one often told and didn't ask to be an exception. He merely nodded and moved on.
"So you know 'bout the rumor?" he wanted to confirm.
A condescending huff replied. "King's ain't got crowns for nothin'."
Unbearable, the guy was. An egoistic, psychopathologically delusional megalomaniac Naruto couldn't help but need. He groveled, but hated it.
"Who is he?" he asked, many months past circling the vital point.
"You tell me", the man huffed, sipping from his glass. The fifth one, Naruto counted.
"So you got fuck all?" he grunted.
His disappointment lured out a smirk. It was a promise of blood, sweat and tears.
"Solid word ain't free", he was told, as expected. "It'll cost ya. Charity's deficit."
The demand didn't surprise, but came as a big of a drag as ever. Sighing, Naruto succumbed to his fate.
"Name it."
"What you offerin'?"
The question wasn't really one at all. "A hit."
His bold statement seemed to come as a pleasant surprise. He couldn't tell if the man found it overkill, or if he'd been underestimated. Given the question that followed, he leaned towards the latter.
"By your own hand?"
Blue eyes narrowed, flashing spite.
"Take a look at yours."
Returning the obnoxious attitude was a risk he was willing to take, in the name of honor, if nothing else. What could've cost him the whole deal rewarded him with an impressed chuckle and extended hand instead. He accepted the gesture offered. It was but a brief dap, but signified a solid contract all the same.
"How soon can you take care of it?" the man wanted to know once he'd withdrawn his hand.
Naruto glanced at the empty glass in his hand. Three servings of strong whiskey meant an equal number of hours before he'd be sure to take a clean shot.
"Tonight", he promised. The man was pleased enough to raise his glass.
"I like the sound of that."
He downed the drink. Like in the five instances so far, it took mere seconds for the pretty girl behind the counter to sway herself over with a fresh one. Unlike before, the man didn't let her leave, but instead pulled her onto his lap, where she stayed. Obedient, defeated. Uncomfortable, but smiling as expected. Naruto couldn't help but note the two types of male authorities there were—those that used their power to rule, and those that abused their power to enslave. The latter was an easy trap, but only if one turned a blind eye to it.
His hands roamed her frame like second nature even in midst of a conversation.
"You sure you ain't in for a ride?"
Before the blonde was given a chance to figure out a neutral way to turn down the unfair offer, the man had moved on to ask her opinion, as if less than one would save her from a beating.
"Wouldn't be the worst cock you've jumped on, huh?"
She touched her neck and forced a smile. "No."
Hoping to save the girl from further detriment, Naruto made his stance known, though hid it behind indifference.
"I'm good."
The long look and silence he'd known to expect weren't as uncomfortable as the young lady's relief was an important tally in his admittedly thin book of good deeds. The man's suspicion didn't come as a shock.
"You a fag?"
"No."
Not a lie, per se. The man seemed convinced, though did find the readiness humorous.
"Ain't the first time someone's asked, is it."
The blonde snorted. "If I got a nickel every time someone asks if we two fuckin', I'd be dirty rich."
Sasuke scowled. He'd been perfectly content being a silent bystander, which Naruto must've been aware of. The unnecessary mention of him earned the blonde an annoyed glare. It went ignored.
"Good it's all talk", the man of a narrow mind commented. "Real men don't fuck dudes in a world full of loose women."
The young lady on his lap flinched at the hand cupping her breast. Naruto deemed the gesture an embarrassment to all men capable of rational thought. Decision-making by dick alone always was a sign of terminal stupidity.
"Hn. Yeah", the blonde grunted, forcing a smile.
He didn't have to look to know Sasuke's face bore an expression worth fear. Fear over how many shiny things it'd take to calm him down. Naruto couldn't blame him. He was every bit as sick of their company as Sasuke. Maybe freedom from it was worth the risk of defying the whiskey in his veins.
"Who's the job?" he asked, implying he was eager to get it over with. The man didn't seem to mind his haste.
"An arms dealer. Owes me tons, given him one too many chances."
"Where's he at?"
The man snorted while scribbling a few words on a piece of paper. "Probably inside a discount whore. Down the street, filthiest place you'll ever step inside."
"Can't wait", grunted the blonde and stood up. Sasuke followed suit. The third man didn't bother.
"Take this", he said, holding out the note he'd written. "Here's my number, directions and a description. Call me when he's cold."
Naruto took the paper offered, nodded and walked away. Unsurprisingly, Sasuke had stormed out half a sentence ago. He found the man outside, speed smoking a cigarette and smothering the urge to cause a scene where one wasn't needed. Hoping to remain low profile Naruto made his way over, grabbed his friend by the arm and forced eye contact.
"Calm your shit. Ain't worth it", he grunted. A look of pure loathing flashed in the man's dark eyes. It merged with his voice, not in loudness but in tone.
"Shit like this is why I don't go 'round tellin' what rides my dick."
The blonde sighed, offering empathy. "I know."
Only when he saw the ridiculing look in his friend's eyes did he realize that to him his empathy was only sympathy, and likely a failed form of it.
"No." The man took a telling step closer. "You don't."
Naruto found himself standing at an unlikely crossroad. He realized he could've proven the man wrong, but for a reason too many, didn't. It was over, it was in the past, but above all, it was between him and the one who got away, and only them. He swallowed the truth and showed needless humility.
"You're right. Sorry", he apologized. Apart from a silent glare and low grunt, Sasuke didn't continue the discussion, but jumped into another one.
"Whatever. Let's get this shit over with."
They picked the direction written on the paper, and about five minutes into silence and poor orienting, Sasuke realized he was the only one walking. He stopped, frowned and turned to find the blonde several steps behind, gazing into the dense crowd around them. He looked confused, doubtful. As much as he hated to, Sasuke asked.
"What?"
Naruto shook his head, tore his gaze away and continued walking.
"Nothin'."
Sasuke watched his thoughtful face walk by. It'd been a lie, they both knew that, yet neither voiced the shared awareness. Some lies deserved to be respected as ones.
It felt like a shiver. Not quite a chill, not really a flinch. Small enough to go unnoticed by outsiders, significant enough to earn a pause. Green eyes narrowed, fought a brief war against curiosity and, ultimately, lost. Gaara frowned, turned and watched. Watched, but couldn't find the stare that'd run down his spine like a tingle of static electricity. There were many a gaze to pick from, dozens of them gawking at him in either passing or standby. None of them brought the shivers back. The stare was gone. With one last glance around, he turned the other way and continued walking down the street.
He hated it. Hated being back. Home had never struck as sweet to him. Not much had changed. The sky still had an orange tint of the deep south, the sunset still set the city ablaze and the streets still were overcrowded with scum the nearing night lured out. Most scum was unfamiliar to him. It didn't surprise him—people there lived fast and died young. The few he did recognize stepped aside to give him way. The many he didn't followed the example of those in the know, like the herd of lambs they'd always been. He heard the whispers, saw the youngsters' stares and noticed their elders advise otherwise. He smelled the fear, felt the electric tension his presence invited, but wasn't satisfied. He'd been gone for too long. Those too young to dread him for good reason were a loss in his book.
In the five and some miles he'd walked through the city, his path had been only his. Nobody had stepped in the way, not one stumbled anywhere near it. Hence, the one unfortunate that ran into him came as a genuine surprise. Whether a pleasant one or not, he was yet to decide.
"Yo, look where you're goin', cunt."
A pleasant one, he decided, and glanced down at the noisy nuisance. A boy, no older than seventeen, watched up at him with defiant eyes. A stare looking to pick a fight had always been a favorite of his, but rarely as big of a pleasure as there and then. His silent deadpan stare seemed to upset the sprout of a man.
"The fuck you lookin' at?" The boy's obnoxious gaze panned him up and down. "Scarface's got balls, huh?"
It'd been a while since Gaara had last bothered lifting the corner of his lips. Months, to be exact.
"Step aside. The street ain't yours, fuckfa— "
The boy's defiance was interrupted by a harsh grip on his arm. A man, a few years older and clearly afraid he was too late, had rushed to the boy's side and silenced him, a frantic look of fear holding his face hostage.
"Dude, shut up", he advised, sounding nervous.
The boy pried himself free. "You fuckin' dumb? Ain't no fucker gon' make me look like a fool."
"You don't get it." The man shook his head, his eyes begging to be obeyed. "The devil's home and you're runnin' your mouth in his face."
Finally, the boy's face paled. Gaara could see the stories he'd been told in the eyes suddenly avoiding his. He didn't move around restless or nervous, but stood still petrified. Fear clenched his voice close to inaudible.
"Fuck."
Gaara waited patiently for the boy to muster his courage and meet his dead gaze. He did, eventually, and given the look in his eyes, knew it'd been a mistake. Calm and wordless, Gaara drew a gun. It stirred fear in the boy and absolute terror in the man slightly older.
"No, please", the latter begged, voice choked. "He's really fuckin' sorry. Please don't hurt my brother."
Out of all the reasons in the world, appealing to brotherly love was the lousiest. The man must've been aware of the redhead's hatred towards family relations, but fear made people forgetful. He did show enough mercy to consider it. He watched the boy quivering before and below him, cocked his head at the humble posture and took into account the genuine shame he felt. Unable to decide, he tore his gaze away and glanced at the people around them. He saw anticipation, he saw silent dares. He saw a challenge. The fact that anyone had the balls to offer even silent ones pointed out a severe drop in respect. And, perhaps, increase in hope. Hope of him having changed. He made up his mind.
Without second thought, he grabbed the boy by his hair, pressed the gun against his head and fired. In the rhythm of sounds both surprised and disappointed, his limp body fell to the ground. The boy's brother and his loud denial of the younger one's death were of no interest to him. Without a word, or even a glance, he walked away and didn't look back. Every glance from then on declared the streets his again.