Chapter Three

No One Likes Group Projects

Sasuke deliberately ignored Naruto in the classes they shared together. He sat near the door to avoid distractions. It was that word—pain—that hung over him in bed last night. As he'd listened to the noises of his quiet home, the dripping bathroom faucet, the creeks of his upstairs neighbor's nightly pacing, and the wind blowing the shutters, he'd thought of that word: pain. How could a kid who laughed more than cried and smiled more than frowned know anything about suffering? Sasuke didn't want to be bothered with the sight of him.

In literary arts class, the last period of the day, Naruto came in at the last minute, when there was only one seat left, the one to Sasuke's right. Sakura always made it a point to sit on his left, which he found annoying but unavoidable. On his way to sit down, Naruto ran his fingers over Sasuke's desk, like he was reminding him he was there. Has he noticed I've been avoiding him?

"All right, everyone," Iruka-Sensei said, "I have a big assignment to go over with you. The administration has been wanting to push more long-form writing." Audible sighs filled the room, the loudest coming from Shikamaru and Naruto. "To make this interesting and to encourage cooperation, we are going to form three-person groups to write a collective novella. We went over novella form last month, so this is the time to put your skills to the test."

A surprising quiet blanketed the room. An assignment like this would likely be a big chunk of their final grade, so whom they were paired with was important. They were graduating next year, which meant this year's grades were what went to admissions. Even the usual slackers looked anxious. Sasuke leaned back in his chair and crossed his right leg over his left. Group projects were the worst, and he hated collaboration, generally favoring his own skills over others' incompetence.

As Iruka-Sensei started announcing the groups, there were some whoops and cheers, along with heavy sighs and curses. "Uzumaki Naruto…" Iruka-Sensei said.

Sasuke leaned forward again, paying attention now. Anyone but…

"Uchiha Sasuke, and Haruno Sakura," he said before moving on to the next group.

Sasuke felt elation on his left and dread on his right. He breathed deeply and pushed his hair away from his face, deciding it best not to hide from the inevitable. His group was settled and already sitting near him.

When Iruka-Sensei was finished, he continued his explanation. "You're expected to complete a novella, which is approximately twenty to forty thousand words. It should be cohesive in style, riveting in plot, and feature captivating characters. I've been reading your work for a long time, so I'll know if you cheat or have one person complete it all themselves. There will be some class time devoted to this project, but you will need to work outside of class too to finish in twelve weeks."

More grumbles and frustrated exhales filled the room, but the class took Iruka-Sensei's eye roll as a signal to group their desks together and get started. Neither Sasuke nor Naruto moved, but Sakura quickly gathered her things next to Sasuke's desk and pulled her chair in between them.

Naruto didn't even pull out a notebook or pen, nor did Sasuke.

"Well, you both look excited about this," Sakura said, scooting her chair closer to Sasuke's desk. "Naruto, you better not be the reason we fail. I have college applications to think about."

The way Sakura easily moved closer to Sasuke was eerie. She was so comfortable and forward all the time that Sasuke forgot what it was like to directly interact with her. Before, she was background noise: constant and dependable. Now, he had to work with her—for twelve weeks—and Naruto too, whom he wanted little to do with.

"Sasuke," Sakura said, her cheeks flushing, "do you have any ideas for what we should write about?"

"Violence," Naruto interjected. "Let's do a cool fight scene or something to start. Right into the action." He turned his chair toward Sasuke's desk and crossed his arms over the top of it, intruding on Sasuke's space, almost like a challenge.

"You would say something like that," Sakura said.

"Revenge," Sasuke said. "Revenge is a motivator."

"Now that's a good idea," Sakura said, smiling and picking at her cuticles, something Sasuke noticed she often did when she was nervous.

"Revenge can be violent," Naruto said. "I mean, that's the ultimate result, right?"

"Such wise words, Naruto," Sakura said, continuing to pick at her nails.

They continued their back and forth with more ease than Sasuke expected. Though they disagreed on most things, like Naruto's insistence on a comic relief character, Sakura's desire for a central romance, and Sasuke's idea for grief and loss, they were at least trying. Eventually, they decided to each write a few pages of their main ideas and to show them to each other later.

Sakura asked Sasuke if he would meet up with her after school to work on the project together, but he said, "Maybe this weekend," and that made her light up.

He hadn't realized how soft her features were, with thick lashes, smooth skin, and pale-green eyes. After all their years in school together, Sasuke hadn't looked at her closely enough to notice, but he was looking now.

When class ended, Naruto hung back again, and as everyone filtered out, including Sakura, Sasuke sat back down at his desk beside Naruto, who had finally pulled out his notebook and begun writing notes.

"Don't tell me you're adding something stupid to our project," Sasuke said, taking out his own notebook.

"I'm not working on that at all," Naruto said, covering his notebook as he turned away.

Sasuke caught the smallest glimpse of a stanza. "Don't tell me you're still working on that poem."

Naruto buried his head in his arms, covering the notebook completely. He mumbled into the desk, "So what if I am?"

"Then I'd call you an idiot."

When Naruto continued writing, closing off his posture even more, Sasuke began writing too, continuing the list he'd started yesterday. He'd started outlining his plan to prepare for Itachi's return that upcoming summer. Knowing his brother was smart and dangerous wasn't enough; he had to learn how to carefully draw out information. Itachi was well-known for his combat training, which he taught very little of to Sasuke when they were growing up. Sasuke was physically in shape, but Itachi's old punching bag and weights left in the apartment weren't cutting it. Itachi could easily take him down if Sasuke got too close to finding out the truth. So, training was on his list, but so was investigating. The police had pulled out of the investigation too quickly.

Sasuke started sketching, the same rough sketch he always drew. The kitchen of their old home, an estate really, and the tile floor and kitchen island. As the wall décor and stools at the bar were filled in, he'd start drawing what he'd found last: his parents—dead on the middle of the floor. His mother draped over his father, and the pool of blood that congealed beneath them. Sasuke had promised himself he'd never forget, and so he reminded himself every chance he had. This image was what changed everything.

"Sai draws too," Naruto said, pulling Sasuke back to reality.

"Who's Sai?" Sasuke asked, closing his notebook.

"My fost—" he paused, "friend, I guess. That's the only thing I know about him."

"Not much of a friend, then."

"Yeah, I guess not."

Absentmindedly, the two kept working. They didn't ask each other what they were working on, novella or not, just worked alongside each other. When they reached boredom, they walked out together. Sasuke was glad there weren't many students in the hallway or exit outside. Naruto waved at the janitor as they walked out, who looked up at them with a quizzical look on his face, then continued to take out the trash.

"Are you headed for the bus stop?" Naruto asked when they reached the parking lot.

Sasuke didn't answer, but he kept walking. He'd always considered riding the bus, wanting to go back to his family's old home, just to see it, but he hadn't the will—or the courage—to face what he drew over and over.

There wasn't anyone playing baseball today, and, without explanation, Naruto suddenly headed for one of the dugouts. Sasuke didn't follow, instead stopped, and watched him go. Naruto turned around and waved him forward. This little twerp thinks he can tell me what to do, he thought.

Naruto shrugged, turned, and pushed open the fence to enter the field. There was no one around beyond some scattered students chatting in their cars, exchanging words up by the road, and running around the track on the other side of the main building. Sasuke followed, believing it to be on his own accord.

Naruto was sitting on the bench inside the dugout, using his bag as a pillow behind his head. Leaning against the back wall beneath the overhang, his eyes were closed, and he appeared to be deep in thought, though Sasuke doubted it.

"What are we doing here?" Sasuke asked.

"We're going to work on our group project, obviously," Naruto said.

Sasuke took off his backpack and set it on the ground, preparing to take out his supplies.

"That's not what I mean," Naruto said, his eyes still closed. "I told you guys I wanted to write about violence, so I need some inspiration."

Sasuke clenched his fist, thinking about the words that Naruto clung to: pain, violence. Two things Sasuke knew far too much about, and with that instigation, he pictured his brother again. The way he poked Sasuke's forehead when he told him everything would be fine after their parents' deaths. The way he always left with no reason or care for what he left behind. The way he thought so little of his younger brother—like fucking trash.

"If it's inspiration you want, you've got it," Sasuke said through his teeth.

Naruto opened his eyes, and he looked fearfully confused, which Sasuke fed off, hoping that one day his brother would look at him like that: surprised but terrified of what Sasuke could become if he needed to. When Naruto stood up, Sasuke took a fighting stance, readying his fist to strike. Naruto smiled and took a similar stance, and he took the first swing, narrowly missing Sasuke's right cheek. Sasuke ducked and swung up, nicking Naruto's chin. Their next punches connected, one to Sasuke's ribs and one to Naruto's shoulder. Their swings were haphazard but full of force. Not knowing what came over him, Sasuke put everything he had into his next hit, and Naruto didn't weave in time, instead taking the full brunt on his jaw. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he counterattacked, knocking the wind out of Sasuke with a blow to the stomach. The hits started to lose power after that, becoming sluggish and sloppy, but they kept at it. Their knuckles bled, their skin purpled, and blood sprayed from their mouths and noses. Naruto lost his balance and fell into the fence separating the dugout from the field, and Sasuke stumbled with another misplaced swing, nearly falling over but also catching himself on the fence. They allowed each other time to breathe, each inhale a wheeze.

"Pain," Sasuke said, placing his hands on his knees to calm down and remain steady, "and violence."

Naruto pressed his back up against the fence and slid to the ground. "I didn't feel either."

"More like relief," Sasuke said.

"Have you always wanted to hit me like that?" Naruto sounded hurt, but as always, that jovial tone resided behind his words.

"I wasn't even thinking about you," Sasuke said, the kitchen already taking form in his thoughts.

"I guess that's better."

"Again." Sasuke sat on the bench, using his backpack to rest on like Naruto had. "Another time."

"Sure. Beats walking home."