(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. New warning: Incest! Beware.)

And the Beat Goes On
Chapter 15: Blue Sky, Blue Sky

Shikamaru threw a glance back at Ino, who was running to catch up with him. It wasn't as though he was walking very fast; he was moving at a more leisurely speed. He stopped, and conjuring his most "annoyed" face, called, "Hurry up, slow-poke!"

Ino frowned and sped up, then slowed off as she passed him, dropping her pace back to a graceful walk. "I wouldn't be talking about being slow if I were you, pineapple-head."

She stuck her nose into the air. Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Do you know how bothersome it was to go and fetch you?"

Ino sighed. "Is that all you ever do? Complain about how 'bothersome' everything is? Do you know how 'bothersome' it is hearing you complain about how bothersome everything is?"

She tossed him a triumphant smile, knowing she'd insulted him worse than he had insulted her. He frowned and looked away, jamming his hands into his pockets bad-temperedly.

- - - - - - - - -

It was dark when Sasuke woke. He was sitting in the chair, his neck was stiff and his behind had gone rather numb. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. In his right hand, he was holding the stuffed bear Hinata had "given" to Naruto.

Naruto was still asleep, though he seemed a little more content in his slumber than he had in the afternoon. The moonlight creeping through the window had crept its way over the blond's prone form, making his hair so pale it seemed to almost glow.

He sighed audibly, and in doing so, became aware that he wasn't the only conscious being in the room. He looked across the bed at Iruka, who offered him a frail smile, which evaporated completely as he looked down at the sick boy.

Sasuke studied the teacher for a moment, taking in the way his dark eyes seemed to dance and glitter with tears in the moonlight. The emotional anguish was easily read, as was the worry and guilt present. Iruka, like Naruto, seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, and his eyes betrayed him.

Sasuke looked away from the teacher, aware that he'd been staring. He looked back down at the sleeping form in the bed.
Naruto sighed and stirred a bit, turning over, muttering something about ramen under his breath. Iruka laughed shakily and put his hand on Naruto's head, ruffling his hair fondly. "That's my boy," he said, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, looking strangely relieved.

From his vantage point, Sasuke almost thought it looked like Naruto was smiling.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Well, this is certainly an interesting development."

". . ."

"Oh, don't be like that."

"You're annoying."

Orochimaru sighed and rolled his eyes in an exasperated manner. Leave it to Itachi to spoil what he would dub an "intimate" moment.

Currently, they were tangled up in each other after suffering from a nasty fall down the stairs. Of course, that had partially been his fault, but if Itachi wouldn't have tried to run away, he wouldn't have had to tackle him.

" . . .Your elbow is in my eye," Itachi said blandly.

Orochimaru smirked. "I'd rather put my elbow other places," he said.

Itachi said nothing, unsure of what to think of the supposed fact Orochimaru apparently wanted to impale him on his elbow, of all things.

Instead, the younger male tried to get out of his predicament, only to find he was making it worse.

Orochimaru's elbow was no longer in his eye, but he wasn't sure if its new position was any better. The older boy smirked at him and slowly started moving, just to goad Itachi into taking the course of action that he wanted him to take.

He loved manipulating people.

Itachi made a small noise in the back of his throat, then narrowed his eyes and glared. "Not here," he hissed, placing his hands on Orochimaru's shoulders, digging his fingers into the bone and flesh there.

Orochimaru tried not to wince, but Itachi tightened his grip even more and attempted to stand up, using his boyfriend as a lever. Unfortunately, that backfired, as the stairs were narrow, and Orochimaru wasn't expecting the change of position.

They toppled down the stairs.

As luck would have it, Orochimaru landed on top of his luckless lover, and, recovering as fast as he could, pinned him to the ground. "How about here?" he asked.

Itachi looked slightly dazed. Orochimaru half suspected he'd hit his head on the floor, especially when he gave him a shaky half smile and nodded. "Sure. The living room floor is a great place to have sex," he commented dryly.

Orochimaru sighed in an over-exaggerated way. "Must you always be so sarcastic?"

"Yes," the other replied, a little smugly.

Orochimaru frowned. "You're being dreadfully annoying in this matter," he commented.

Itachi merely shrugged, extracted himself from the other's grip and stood up. "I like to be annoying," he said, sticking his tongue out in an almost childish manner.

Orochimaru raised his eyebrow. "Is that an invite?"

"No," Itachi said quickly, deciding it might be a good idea if he could go and barricade himself in his room.

Unfortunately, somebody seemed to think it would be terribly funny to see him raped on his living room floor, and he tripped over something. What, he wasn't exactly sure. All he knew was that carpet tasted disgusting, probably because it hadn't been cleaned since gods-knew-when.

Orochimaru looked at Itachi, blinking stupidly, amazed that his boyfriend could be so incredibly clumsy. He then turned his attention to the culprit of the tripping. A magazine had been knocked off the shelf by the stairs when they fell, he supposed. But never, ever would he have expected Itachi to have a copy of Cosmo, anywhere, in his house.

"Itachi. . .is there something you're not telling me?" he asked, remaining completely deadpan.

"What?" the other boy asked, sitting up, then picking up the magazine. He took one look at the title and threw it away as if it burned. "How the hell did that get in here!"

"I think you know," Orochimaru said, giving Itachi a fixed look.

"It's not mine," the younger grumbled, clambering to his feet. "It must be Sasuke's."

"I dunno...You're the more feminine one."
"What?"

Itachi stalked across the room and glared up at the taller boy. "I bet it's yours and you put it there, just to make me trip so you could rape me on the floor!"

Orochimaru looked appalled, then sighed. "How many times must I tell you, you cannot rape the willing?"

"Ah-ha! You're changing the subject! It must be yours!" Itachi cheered, smirking.

"It is not mine! I don't read that trash!"

"Well, neither do I!"

"So, it's not mine!"

"And it's not mine!"

"So it must be. . ."

"Sasuke's," they said in perfect unison, which was kind of creepy, as they stared blankly at the magazine on the floor.

"Let's go put it in his room."

"And leave it open to the page with the half-naked guy on it."

"And then we'll watch him nosebleed until he dies of blood loss."

They looked at each other and grinned wickedly. Orochimaru picked up the magazine then chased Itachi up the stairs.

"We should write something on it."

"Like what? Besides, then he would know it was us," Itachi said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, Orochimaru had the stupidest ideas.

"I dunno. . .something perfectly innocent that can be taken in a completely dirty and scandalous context."

Itachi made a face. "That still doesn't answer my question! I'll ask it again: like what?"

Orochimaru flicked Itachi. "I'll think of something."
"I'm sure you will."

"Hey, do you think your brother has any porn in here?"

"If he does, it was mine first and he stole it. Now, focus on the stupid task and stop getting distracted."

"Do you think he would keep that kind of stuff under his bed?"

Itachi sighed in exasperation. "No. Not likely."

Orochimaru was down on his knees, pulling junk out from under the bed. "Ha! Shows how much you know! Holy shit. . ."

He blinked at the sheer volume of porn accumulated in that space. "Dude. . .your brother's like. . .chronic masturbator or something."

Itachi blinked. "Those. . .aren't mine, either. That's. . .all his."

"Sick. Just sick. I mean, you and I don't have this much porn between us."

"Eh. . .I guess. . .I mean, he has to get off somehow, right?"

"Yeah, but like. . ."

"Oh, shut up, put it back, we'll pretend we never saw it and leave."

"Sounds like a plan," Orochimaru muttered, stuffing whatever he had removed of the "stash" back under the bed.

Itachi had already exited the room, taking the reason why they had gone in Sasuke's room in the first place with him, completely forgetting that he had taken it away from his boyfriend after the 'do you think he has any porn in here' comment.

He looked down at the thing in his hand and before he could throw it away, the title had caught his attention. "What your guy really wants. . .have hotter sex now. . ."

He snorted and turned to the specified page, just to see what bullshit women made up about men and what they wanted in the sack.

"I knew it was yours," an accusing voice said behind him.

He narrowed his eyes and deftly, threw the magazine over his shoulder, hoping it would hit Orochimaru in the face.
- - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke sighed. He hated city buses, even if they were empty. The street lamps flickered by, illuminating the bus for a mere second, then rolling on by.

He sat at the back of the bus, putting as much space between him and the driver as he could. He really doubted the driver liked him much. After all, if he hadn't of got on the bus, said driver could have gone and parked the bus and been half-way home by now.

He would have been perfectly content to sit in the hospital, which reeked of sterile, waiting for Naruto to wake up, all night, and all of tomorrow and the next day and the next day, if he had to. But Iruka insisted that he needed to go home and get some sleep, and be ready for school tomorrow.

How could he sleep when he was going to be up all night worrying? He'd barely been able to get out of the hospital, without turning around and running back. He had more self-control than that, and he cursed himself for it. How could he go to school tomorrow and spend all day sitting in a hot, sticky classroom, worrying, and blanking out?

So, here he was, on the last bus of the night, going home, his thoughts, his mind and his heart still in that stupid hospital room, at stupid Naruto's stupid bedside. Some boyfriend he was: going home to catch up on his sleep while Naruto was sick and helpless.

Why did he feel so goddamn guilty? The idiot wasn't going to wake up soon, if at all, and if he did, Iruka was still there, and probably would be 'til the end of time. Maybe it was that he wanted to be the one Naruto saw when he woke up, and maybe it was selfish of him, but he wanted to be there to relieve all the worry he felt brewing inside.

Stupid Naruto, stupid Gaara, stupid him! It was all stupid Gaara's fault in the first place, but if he. . .if he. . .

Goddamn it, if Naruto hadn't pissed him off!

That wasn't a good excuse. Being pissed off was not a good reason to have sex with the one you loved.

Did he love Naruto?

He wasn't sure.

He sighed and kept his gaze fixed on the outside world, rolling by him at sixty kilometres an hour. He read the street signs, waiting for the stop closest to his house to turn up.

As it ended up, he got off a few blocks early, because he could feel the hostility just emanating from the driver. He walked the rest of the way home, his thoughts slowing his feet and making him feel heavy.

He unlocked the front door and walked in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket. He shut the door, shutting out the night, but not his grief. The house was silent, except for the occasional 'thump' from upstairs and the occasional giggle.

He frowned and sighed. Just what he wanted to deal with: his brother and his boyfriend fucking each other's brains out all night long. While it was nice to see that they reconciled, he wished they could express it in a different way.

He padded upstairs, tired, but knowing he wasn't going to sleep. He had too much on his mind, even if his sibling wasn't being loud. Sometimes, he wished Itachi would just drop off the face of the earth.

Screwing up his courage, because this was probably going to scar him for the rest of his life), he opened the door to his brother's bedroom, without knocking first.

He cleared his throat and both Itachi and Orochimaru looked at him, from the precarious position they'd assumed sometime earlier. "Could you please keep it down? I'm going to go to bed."

He was amazed he kept his face completely expressionless. Itachi and Orochimaru looked at each other and smirked. Itachi looked back at his younger brother, wicked smirk still in place. Sasuke felt very, very threatened.

"Oh, yes, you're going to go to bed. Come here and we'll make sure you're nice and comfy."

Sasuke would have beat a hasty retreat, but he'd been so preoccupied with what his brother was saying, and suggesting, that he hadn't noticed that Orochimaru had been moving about and was now standing right beside him.

The younger boy could only stare in bewilderment as the older boy fitted a collar about his neck, complete with leash. Orochimaru grinned slyly at him and shut the door. Sasuke wanted to scream.

Stupefied, he let Orochimaru lead him over to the bed, where Itachi had sat up and was waiting for him, his smirk still evident, but softer now, and almost comforting. Sasuke was startled when he suddenly realized the striking likeness between his brother and his mother.

He barely registered what he was doing. Itachi's arms were around him, and he was leaning back against his brother's bare chest. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"You're tense," Itachi murmured against his ear and Sasuke felt fingers caressing his back and neck and shoulders.
He relaxed into that touch, only to find that cold fingers were touching him from the front. He opened his eyes and looked at Orochimaru, who met his gaze with his golden one and smiled. He felt scared again, fear surging up at the promises the oldest boy's eyes held. He pushed back against his brother, as if trying to escape the colder set of fingers. "Itachi," he murmured.

"Sh," the older Uchiha whispered.

Sasuke squirmed a bit. "Itachi," he said, trying to sound a little more demanding, but only came off as more desperate.

"What do you want?" Itachi purred, for once not sounding exasperated in asking that question.

His hands snaked down and met briefly with his boyfriend's, before travelling further down, Orochimaru's hands travelling in the opposite direction.

Itachi wrapped his hand about Sasuke's cloth-covered discomfort and looked at his little brother's face, his smile turning back to a smirk in the blink of an eye. "Is this what you want, little brother?"

He started to move his hand up and down that length, making sure Sasuke was enjoying what he was doing. He was going to stop at the first sign of discomfort from his brother. Instead, Sasuke rocked his hips a bit, and let his head fall back. With his free hand, Itachi brushed the black bangs out of his brother's eyes. Sasuke's eyes were barely open, his long lashes clutching at his stained cheeks. Itachi smirked when he saw the boy's gaze was downcast. He was watching him.

He sped up his motions, Sasuke rewarding him with a small, strangled cry. Mentally, he cursed his brother's practised control, because he knew Sasuke was fighting him, fighting the sensations, even unintentionally.

Sasuke cried out again, and Itachi looked to Orochimaru, who he'd temporarily forgotten about. His lover had one of his hands tangled in Sasuke's hair, running up and down the column of the boy's neck. The other hand was treating one of his baby brother's pert nipples, and he smirked against the other one.

Itachi smirked back, speeding up his motions. Sasuke cried out yet again, and thrust his hips forward.

Sasuke, meanwhile, was fighting to keep himself under control. His spinning mind was screaming at him, but its warning was jumbled by the screaming jolts of pleasure his body was using to overthrow him.

This was wrong! Oh, gods, this was wrong! It was incest, and he felt as if he was invading the bond his brother and Orochimaru shared, not to mention violating the one he held with Naruto, who had been all but blocked from his mind when he should have been worrying himself sick!
Still, it felt good.

Argh! Stupid body, damn it to hell! He closed his eyes and groaned, Itachi's hand tightening about him, moving faster and torturing him with bliss. Orochimaru's mouth was pressed against one of his nipples. He couldn't tell left from right at the current moment and couldn't be bothered to figure it out. And the older boy was. . .sucking on the flesh, and to use an over-used simile, like a baby suckled on its mother.

For Konoha's sake, this was screwing up his head.

Screwing, heh. The irony was that, he would, in all likelihood, be getting screwed.

'Stop it, stop it, stop it!' he screamed at himself, unaware he was screaming it out loud too.

The torture stopped. He whimpered and opened his eyes, wondering if this was their idea of a joke.

Itachi was looking at him concernedly. "Is something wrong?"

He whined and squirmed in reply. Damn right, something was wrong! This whole fiasco was wrong! It was incest! It was. . .weird. . .

It was making his shorts too tight. Orochimaru snickered and reached forward, unfastening the squirming teen's pants, and tugged them down a bit, followed quickly by his underwear, and allowed the source of the boy's discomfort to be exposed.

Sasuke panted lightly, feeling the cool air caressing him. Orochimaru smiled at him appreciatively, and Itachi purred in his ear, "Pretty all over, aren't you?"

Hands caressed his abdomen, and then, lower. Someone, he wasn't sure which one, pressed their lips to his, hungrily demanding access to his mouth, and getting it without much of a struggle, while the other gave his nether regions a squeeze that sent him over the edge.

Orochimaru and Itachi shared a look that said they were amused at how easily the boy was finished off. Sasuke lay in Itachi's arms, dazed, breathing hard.

Itachi kissed the boy's forehead. "Do you feel better now?" he asked, as gently as he could.

Sasuke nodded, clinging to him just a little tighter.

Orochimaru slithered up beside his boyfriend, holding Sasuke from the other side, stroking the boy's hair. Itachi glanced over at him and they shared a satisfied glance. Orochimaru knew that Itachi had wanted to do this for some time. Actually, he'd wanted to do more, but with the risks Sasuke posed currently, this was more than enough, for all three of them.
Sasuke dozed off eventually, his body being too exhausted to listen to his mind, which was now on worry overdrive. Orochimaru smirked at Itachi, who was lovingly caressing his little brother's face. "So, was he good?"

Itachi nodded. "He's going to be such a good fuck."

Orochimaru wagged a finger. "Gotta get your shots first," he taunted and Itachi grimaced.

"Gods, if I ever see that stupid fuck again, I'll. . ."

"Kill him, yes, yes, I know. I've heard you're heroic speech before, thank you."

Itachi glared at him and he just smirked. The younger boy reached over his brother and smacked his boyfriend. "You've got no respect for family ties."

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. "Been there, done that, and figured out that they suck."

Itachi snorted. "You're just selfish."

"You're just getting something back," Orochimaru commented dryly.

Itachi said nothing and looked down at his sleeping brother.

"Hey," Orochimaru said after a moment or two, "you're brother's got a nice ass."

Itachi glared at his boyfriend, who was now rubbing against his brother's backside. Orochimaru smirked. "Good to see it runs in the family."

Itachi sighed and rolled his eyes. "Shut up and go to sleep."

"I love you too."

"Goodnight, Orochimaru," Itachi growled, settling himself down to sleep.

"Goodnight, honey."

Itachi swore he'd murder Orochimaru one day.

- - - - - - - - - -

She sat in the dark, waiting for the yelling and the screaming to stop. She waited for the silence to make her bold enough to venture outside her doorway.

But the silence never really did. She wasn't sure, but sometimes, it seemed like the silence was worse than all the yelling and the screaming. The silence made her wonder if they'd killed each other.

The night wore on and she sat on her bed, not crying, but not smiling either.

She wondered about a lot of things now. Now was her time to sit back and reflect, to see what she had done well and what she could have done better. It was her time to re-evaluate her life and her ambitions.

What of her and Ino? What were they exactly? Were they, dare she say it, girlfriends? Or were they merely best friends who occasionally kissed and held hands? Was she a lesbian? Did she like girls, did she like boys? Did she like both?

She really didn't know, at some points, she really didn't care. What did it matter who she liked, as long as she liked them and they liked her back and she was happy? What did it matter as long as it meant she could eventually get out of this hell-hole and away from the yelling and screaming?

Speaking of which. . .

The din had stopped, and it had been quiet for a quite a while. Cautiously, she peered out of her doorway, half of her scared of what she might find, half of her hoping they'd killed each other.

A photo on the wall had been torn off and thrown, it's smashed frame littering the hallway with shards of glass that glittered like tears in the moonlight. She was tempted to pick one up, even though she knew they were sharp.

The picture inside was all torn up, and somebody had taken a pin or a tack and scratched out all of the people's faces. She knew that it had been a picture of them - of herself and her parents, when she was small and when they were happy. When they were family.

The picture so represented them now. It was almost ironic, that a picture could reflect such turbulent times, even when it had been taken so many years ago, that it seemed like eons had passed to her.

It represented that they had fallen to pieces, just like its frame and that they no longer recognized themselves. And rather suddenly, she realized that something had changed in the household, that it was quieter than normal. She padded downstairs to investigate.

The good set of china had finally become victim to the violence, and it lay shattered and smashed all over the floor in the downstairs.

It seemed as if the house had breathed a sigh of relief, as if a storm had passed.

Her father was gone.
There was no sign to tell her this, to assure her guess, but somehow, she just knew.

It was like the rain cloud had passed, leaving nothing but sunny skies.

Her father was gone.

Whether or not he'd be back, she didn't know, but somewhere in her heart, she doubted it. He was gone, oh, oh, he was gone!

The dragon had been slain and the prince could finally come to rescue the princess from the tower.

Or would it be the princess that came to her rescue?

- - - - - - - - -

The blue sky was reflected in the window, as the curtains were drawn and the first bright lights filtered in.

Someone peered through the window, wondering at the white walls that surrounded the room and enclosed the window. If he strained his ears, he could hear the humming and buzzing of the machines in the patient's arm.

It was as if he could feel the itchy blanket and the lumpy pillow.

Then something dawned on him. He was on the wrong side of that window. He was the patient.

The shades were lowered over the window for a second, and he sat up, the windows that were his eyes wide, wild and blue like the sky.

Naruto nearly screamed.

He hated hospitals, hated them, and hated them then some, because it was nothing but a place full of misery for him. The white-washed walls reminded him of the infirmary in the orphanage, and that, in turn, reminded him of his mother walking away from him.

He'd always been the most destructive of all the children.

He had no respect for anything, not even himself.

It got to the point that the nurses and teachers and volunteers weren't allowed to give him anything more than foam or stuffed animals to play with. A shard of frigid plastic shattered and had found itself embedded in his arm; wood created slivers; anything metal was absolutely out of the question.
Naruto liked to be in physical pain, rather than emotional anguish.

He didn't want to count the number of times he'd nearly bled to death.

He really wouldn't have cared if he did.

Nobody else would have.

He glanced to his left and found the room vacant. Sighing, he shifted, and pulled his knees up to his chest, feeling a little sick, a little dizzy and a little queasy.

Nobody was there, just like always. Whenever he needed something, he was brushed off like a fly. Stupid, stupid fly, always attracted to the light, only to burn to death or be swatted away in annoyance.

Insignificant.

Did anybody really care that he was in here, dying? He knew he was, it was something he could feel in his marrow and it scared him. For once, he didn't really want to die, and now, he was probably on his deathbed.

He'd been to death's door innumerable times, and each time, he'd been sent back, even though he really didn't want to. Now that he didn't want to go, death would take him in, and shield him in its blackest robes.

Ah, irony at its greatest.

He glanced around a bit and found that someone had at least been by. Two chairs were placed by the bed, though he knew the seats were cold by now.

There was a vase of colourful flowers sitting on the bedside table, and beside them, a little stuffed teddy bear. Naruto wondered vaguely who'd brought them. He would have said Iruka, but, though unlikely, Sasuke could have been feeling particularly guilty and/or sappy. Naruto grinned when he thought of what he could make Sasuke do if he was on a guilt trip.

"Sasuke, get me a glass of water."

"Sasuke, I feel faint. Carry me."

"Sasuke, massage me. And while you're at it, get me breakfast."

"Sasuke, lick my feet."

He was so busy practising the whining tone he'd use to make Sasuke his bitch, that he didn't hear the clatter of footsteps in the hall. Of course, Lady Luck decided to be a bitch and Sasuke arrived just in time to hear the last thing Naruto said.

Sasuke just stared at the blond, and he stared back. Then, Naruto blushed, and laughed nervously. "Uh. . .heh! Hi, Sasuke! Uhm. . .heh heh. . .you didn't hear that, did you? 'Cause, yanno, I was just joking, and. . ."

Sasuke glared. "I see you're feeling better," he said icily.

Naruto sighed. Well, if he'd been hoping to keep Sasuke whipped for the next couple of weeks, the idea had just committed suicide by jumping out the window.

Sasuke sat down in one of the chairs, still glaring.

Naruto stuck out his tongue. "The least you could do would be to ask how I'm feeling. I mean, I am sick and dying."

He tried to look pathetic, and lay back, pushing his forearm against his forehead, as if to look faint.

Sasuke snorted. "Drama queen."

Naruto grumbled and sat up again. "What time is it?"

"It's quarter after ten, Thursday December first."

"Oh. Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Shouldn't you?"

Naruto stuck his tongue out again. "Who brought the flowers?"

"Ino and Sakura."

Naruto looked surprised. "Really?"

Sasuke nodded. "They. . .uh. . .had some things to tell me."

Naruto rolled his eyes. "Stupid girls! Don't they know when to give up? Don't they know you're mine?"

He grinned and Sasuke slapped him on the forehead. "No, things as in. . .they're. . .uhm. . .more than friends."

Naruto blinked, then smiled. "Oh, like best friends! Everybody knows that!"
Sasuke sighed and shook his head. Oh, Naruto, Naruto, Naruto, when will thy stupidity cease to amaze people?

"No, you dumbass, they're together. . .like us."

Naruto blinked. "Oh. Oh, oh, oh! Wow. Sakura. . .who would have thought? Ino, I can see, 'cause she's a bitch and ya know. . ."

Sasuke rolled his eyes and did his best to look bored as Naruto rambled on and on and on.

"And who brought the bear?"

Sasuke perked up, hearing that a question was being asked of him. "Huh? Oh, Hinata brought that for you. You were sleeping though, so she left it there for you."

Naruto smiled warmly. "Hinata? Wow, that's so sweet of her! Who else came to see me? Huh? Tell me, tell me!"

Yes, Naruto was definitely feeling better.

All's well that ends well, or so it seemed.

But no matter how hyper-active Naruto was, nor how many questions he asked could soothe the sense of foreboding that was creeping over both of them.

- - - - - - - - - -