Chapter Four

By: Ember

-

I can't remember the time or place

Or what you were wearing

It's unclear about how we met

All I know it was the best conversation that I've ever had

To this day I've never found someone

With eyes as wide as your's

I've been searching up and down this coast

Overlooking what I need the most

-

Naruto got up two hours to noon, slid out of bed, and groggily shifted through piles of clothing that had long accumulated on his floor (Clean clothes went more-or-less to the right of his bed, dirty piled on the left, and if it passed the smell-test, it worked for another day or two. Teenage boys have no use for closets). Orange was his usual color; orange jumped out at him from the floor even seen through sleep-blurred vision. He wrestled into his clothing, folded it around himself, yawned hugely, and stumbled downstairs. At this time he was sufficiently awake so that pouring a small river of milk onto a bowl of dry cereal was a simple enough task and accomplished without incident. He devoured this breakfast, threw the dirty dishes with the others in the sink (the pile was getting somewhat precarious, he would have to actually wash some of those soon) and hurried upstairs to brush his teeth, wrestle his hair with a fine-toothed comb, and put on his head protector. For the first week or so, he'd slept in it, but that had left ugly red marks on his face where the edges had set in and imprinted the skin so he had simply gotten into habit of hanging it on the headboard when he went to bed. Now he picked it up and slid it over the his head, so that the steel glittered in the light streaming from his bedroom window.

Then he grinned at the blue sky glinting in the edge of the glass and, smiling in his happy-go-lucky Naruto way, deemed himself ready for another day.

Whoever said "Tomorrow is another day" knew Naruto. He recovered remarkably fast. Case in point, he didn't actually think about the day before until he was halfway to the place where Team 7 would wait for Kakashi. His paused and frowned, arms crossing over his chest; why did Sasuke always have to ruin everything for him every day? He always looked forward to meeting with Kakashi (and Sakura!) but now he wanted to go back home and go to bed, to bury under the covers so that he couldn't see the sunlight anymore and pretend he wasn't in Konoha and didn't have to come back ever again. He didn't know exactly what he felt, but embarrassed and guilty pretty much summed it up- embarrassed at what happened between him and Sasuke (ew! Thinking about it like that made it sound like it had been intentional!) and guilty thinking about how the fight had almost ended, if Sasuke hadn't decided to burn him to ash at the same time Naruto had decided to throw the exploding kunai.

And that got him started on angry again, which completed the cycle of the day before to pretty good accuracy. Why should he feel guilty? Sasuke had started the fight, and there was no way Naruto was going to let the black-haired bastard push him around thinking he was so much better, and Sasuke had been perfectly willing to end it the same way Naruto had been planning on ending it.

Hmm. Thinking about it, he owed Shikamaru a thank-you card if nothing else. But that was for later.

The problem was, even while he was busy getting angry and frustrated and ready to prove himself infinitely better than Sasuke- maybe if a sea monster did decide to eat the arrogant prick, Naruto wouldn't bother to save him, would wait until he was eaten and thoroughly digested before fighting back- he still did feel guilty. And that frustrated him more. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes and finished the walk silently cursing the asshole and imagining every footfall crushing that arrogant, too-quiet, broody-dark face. Seeing that Sasuke, as always, was early and leaning against the wall of the store they were waiting for Kakashi in front of didn't improve Naruto's mood. Sakura wasn't even there yet, which was weird because she was usually right on Sasuke's heels, timing her entrance perfectly to get some time alone with the black-haired shinobi.

His mind ran through a list of smart-ass things to say to Sasuke but with uncharacteristic wisdom he kept his mouth shut, glowering at the other boy as he perched on the post of the fence guarding a drop-off perhaps of ten feet to a cluster of bushes below. The stone Hokages, still with faint red stripes running down their faces, looked over Naruto's shoulder to glare humorlessly at Sasuke.

Naruto had always wondered about the expressions on the Hokage's faces. What was the carving supposed to celebrate, that the Four suffered from chronic crotch-rot and couldn't be caught with a smile on their faces? When I go up there, he thought, decisively, no if about it, Hell knows I won't be scowling down at everyone. I won't let them carve my face into a mountain looking like my fucking dog's died. That's why I'd be the best; I can at least be happy every once in a while.

Unlike certain people. Sasuke's carving would be identical to his real fucking face, might as well be stone anyway. Not like he'd ever be able to be Hokage, not a fucking chance; he's no where near good enough and no one needs a Hokage that doesn't talk.

He didn't know that from Sasuke's angle, his face was perched exactly to the left of the stripe of Mt. Hokage, and that his expression was as serious and faintly arrogant as the others'. His skin was brownish and if one ignored the hair and the eyes and focused on the contour, he looked like a lighter extension of the carving.

Without as much brainpower as the rocks, however, the darker shinobi thought bitterly. Thinking about Naruto as Hokage was giving him too much credit, like complimenting the idiot even if the blonde couldn't hear him.

A few blocks down the road, Sakura nearly broke and ran, but she kept herself under tight control and, hands shoved into her pockets to keep from fiddling with her buttons, settled for walking quickly. She didn't want to look too anxious to meet Sasuke but she also didn't want Naruto to show up and take away their only time together. After everything that had happened yesterday- the fight, the... stuff, that she didn't quite understand but wasn't obtuse enough to miss- her sympathy would undoubtably be better-received and she would get pity-points with Sasuke, especially if she supported him and bashed Naruto like she always did when their rivalry got fierce enough.

She hadn't yet caught sight of Sasuke when she saw the orange blaze that was Naruto. Damn. Why had she slept late this morning? She hoped, ferverently, that Kakashi wasn't rubbing off on her; that would be the final straw, honestly. She had to get closer before she saw Sasuke, as he had, in truly cool tradition, gotten into the habit of standing unconsciously in shadow (he was currently in the shadow of the store he was leaning against) and in black clothing with black hair even the white pants didn't quite get him to stand out. Not like Naruto in full sunlight.

She was pretty close before she realized something was weird.

She was twenty feet away before she realized something was wrong.

Nothing, no challenge or argument or anything had emerged from either throat while she had been walking up. Neither boy had moved, really, except for shifting or blinking or rolling their eyes skyward in response to what had to be their thoughts since it wouldn't rightly be a response to something said. While she loved to think that they were fighting over her she didn't pretend that her presence was detrimental to their rivalry and unending verbal sparring and the silence was overwhelming.

And, there was the fact that they were staring at each other. Really staring, like their entire argument was telepathic and they were maintaining some sort of sci-fi mental connection. Creepy as all hell. She could feel tension like a thunderstorm gathering around the three of them, then realized that she, once again, wasn't in any way a part of 'them' and amended the thought. Tension around the two of them.

She lifted her hand to her mouth, pressed the heel of it against her lips, curled her fingers delicately, and, quietly, coughed.

She felt the whiplash of the cut tension slide across her skin as Naruto and Sasuke twisted as one to glare, the former in surprise and the other in cold apathy, at her.

The glares were gone in another second as if they had never been and Naruto had slid from the beam to run towards her, grinning. Sasuke turned back towards Mt. Hokage as if it was what he was looking at all along and grunting an inarticulate greeting towards her.

"Sakura! You're here!" Naruto exclaimed, as if Mt. Hokage had been what Sasuke had been staring at all along.

Sakura wished she knew what was going on.

-

Kakashi was even later than usual. Naruto and Sakura whirled on him as soon as he appeared but he held his hand up for silence and they fell to quiet glaring. Sasuke, the white-haired Jounin was pretty sure, had blinked when he had first appeared. Aside from that, there was pretty much no reaction. After it was obvious that Sakura and Naruto weren't going to start screaming, he stood up straight and walked slowly to stand behind and to the right of his pink-haired admirer, as far as he could get from Naruto and still be in Kakashi's range of one-eyed sight. Interesting. So was the way dark eyes grazed the blonde, barely, as if ashamed to look at him but constantly reassuring himself of something. So was the way Naruto glared more-or-less covertly at Sasuke from the corner of his narrowed eye. So were the rumors running wild about the way the two had gone for each other's throats, the more wild on one side saying that one or the other of the two Genin had killed the other and on the opposite end of the spectrum, the one far less populated for it's lack of appeal with most female members of Konoha and it's total repellence against the male, that they were covering something (rather scandalous) up with the fighting, something that rumor painted with quite a bit of detail when that particular rumor was painted at all. The corner of Kakashi's mouth twitched upward. He didn't know why he even bothered to use the Sharingan, he had used it so much he was getting good at seeing detail and subtleties without it.

"We don't have a mission, today," he announced, smiling brightly. The effects any idiot could have seen, with or without Sharingan. Naruto groaned, Sakura frowned, and even Sasuke's demeanor slipped more onto the 'unhappy' side of emotionless. "So we'll just be training. You can't complete good missions without knowing more than what you guys know, especially you, Naruto, so keep your tongue in your mouth. We're going to be working on basic and intermediate seals, which, obviously, you'll have to know before you can master any of the bigger skills. I suppose we'll go to the edge of town, there're too many people here, and Naruto and Sasuke, by the way, if I ever hear about you two using your ninjutsu for serious fighting against each other ever again, you will no longer be under my tutorage." The smile was gone between one word and the next and he was glaring at the surprised-looking Genin, even Sasuke having slipped enough to be showing some shock. "According to Kurenai, both of you were maybe three seconds from doing serious damage to one another. There is no condition, barring nothing, that would excuse or justify that behavior."

"Sensei..." Naruto didn't know what he had planned on saying; not that Sasuke had started it, because that would be whining, and not telling Kakashi why what had happened had happened, because he didn't know that, but it didn't really matter what he had intended to say.

"You had to be restrained to keep from really hurting Sasuke," Kakashi interrupted, coldly, ignoring Sasuke's sudden burning glare at the implication that the Uchiha would have been the loser in the end of the fight. "So did you, Sasuke. Did either of you stop to think what would happen if you succeeded? If you managed to kill the other person? Did you?" He waited for the words to sink in, then frowned deeper. It was like throwing sticks at mountains; the words didn't sink in, they bounced off without leaving a mark. Naruto looked like he was about to burst in with an excuse and Sasuke looked torn between anger and the uncaring expression of the scolded deaf. "Of course you didn't. You didn't think. Both of you have serious problems with thinking, which is really too bad because it's a very important trait for shinobi to have. Here, let me tell you what would have happened. The other person would have died. You would have gone on to the next mission and they wouldn't have been there. You would have gone home and they wouldn't have been there. You would have gone through life and they wouldn't. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you two that you would actually want that, that you would want for your teammate to be gone forever, but whatever it is, you better get over it fast." He looked over the faces of his three students and suppressed a sigh. Wonderful. Naruto was indignant, Sasuke didn't care, and he'd managed to scare the hell out of Sakura. He decided to cut his speech short. "This is a warning: if anything like that ever happens again, neither of you will be Genin. Neither of you will be under my teaching, and neither of you will ever be shinobi ever again. I sincerely hope this is understood, because you will not get another warning."

At least that got some response. Sasuke's eyebrows drew together in resentment, and Naruto's eyes grew in horror, but Kakashi had really hoped to strike a chord without having to stoop to threats. He turned around, started forward, and called over his shoulder to his staring pupils. It was going to be a long afternoon.

-

It had been...

Sasuke sighed and in another heartbeat a shruiken was gone from his belt and buried into his stuffed target.

...a long afternoon.

He, of course, had already known most of what Kakashi had spent the day teaching him, Sakura, as always, had learned fast, and Naruto was probably in his living room right that second trying to get them right. After a while, Kakashi had judged them good enough- he'd even gone over the movements with Sasuke, who had been taught more the essence of the attacks than the strict formation of the hand seals that Kakashi insisted on- and, about half an hour yet before sunset, had let them go home. His comments on the day had been rather skin-and-bone, in comparison to the praise or criticism he usually gave; just telling them to practice and vanishing in his usual whirlwind, leaving them to the more mundane roads.

Before the initial swaying of the target had slowed down, Sasuke had moved a hundred and eighty degrees around it and two kunai were buried in two places on the red fabric. Sasuke's mouth twitched. Getting the two into the target wasn't bad when you were a hundred and fifty feet away and it was moving away from you, but he had been aiming for the stripe around the middle and both had hit above the black midsection.

The dark shinobi pulled the weapons out of the target, releasing it to sway on its tether while he pocketed the shruiken and kunai. This wasn't doing shit for his experience as a shinobi; what was the likelihood any mission would entail chucking metal pointies at a still target? He needed something alive, something moving, something that would fight back. The worn carpet on the basement floor was coming apart and he watched the fibers break away from each other as he walked, eyes narrowing in frustration. Three times, twice during the infamous "Zabuza Incident" and once, only once, afterward, he had trained with Naruto, had sparred with him and practiced with him and even gave and took criticism, cleverly disguised as pointed jibes in their neverending rivalry.

He reached the far wall and made a quiet sound that was half snort and half resigned sigh. That wasn't likely to reoccur any time soon; the easygoing competition was gone, between one day to the next, one week to the next, to something a little more harsh and a little more... emotional. And Sasuke couldn't quite remove himself from it, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn't stop thinking about it. Even when he was in the process of vehemently denying its presence he still thought in phallic innuendo. He had caught himself staring at the blonde more than once (struggling to get Kakashi's hand seals to mean something and succeeding several times in setting his hair on fire) and had only the seventh (eighth if you count the time Naruto'd started yelping and all three of them looked over at him) time did he admit that something was wrong.

...Why him?

Why him?

Why him?

He couldn't even remember which "him" he was talking about anymore.

The shruiken hit the black line and dug into the fabric. The target seized back and forth.

He would prefer to pretend like nothing was happening to him, like he felt nothing for no one and no one would ever change that. But he was (pretty much) the last of the Uchiha line and he had a... not a duty, perhaps, that was a little melodramatic, but certainly a drive to protect his family's fading remnants of honor. That included killing his brother, becoming a shinobi and not...

...becoming...

...infatuated...

...with blonde idiots who ran unthinking into battle and believed in sea monsters.

The first kunai buried its point two or three inches into the target, the handle jutting from the black line in the middle.

He couldn't just pretend it wasn't there. He couldn't just tell himself everything was fine, couldn't lie to himself like that, not when everything was slipping out of his control. He had to train his thoughts, like he always had, train himself to ignore it, to not think about another mouth pressed clumsily against his or desperate attempts at heroism or the look in blue eyes when he felt himself "die"...

Not think about what it would be like if the blonde meant it, not an accident or a caught-in-the-moment type of thing but something real, another body pressed against his, hands under his shirt and arms coiled around his chest, the scent and taste that was purely Naruto lingering in his mouth and on his skin for hours afterward...

The second kunai missed the target entirely.

It had been a long afternoon. It promised to be a long, long spring.

end chapter four