(Author's Note: Hey, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On
Chapter 34: Slow Dance

Spring was in the air, at long last. Naruto felt it had been too long that they'd been drowned in winter. Now, the snow was melting, creating puddles about his feet, and the wind blew softer against his cheeks. He swore he could smell the springtime air, the scent of things beginning to grow.

It was warmer out too, which was a welcomed relief. Naruto had ditched his jacket, and was wearing a simple t-shirt, leaving his arms open to the wind. Iruka had an argument with him about it, but he'd simply run off when the brunet man wasn't looking, because it was too nice a day to stand about and argue. It was too nice a day to have anything unpleasant happen.

Naruto met Sasuke at his door, and the dark-haired boy simply glared at him, as if in jealously, for the younger Uchiha had been forced to bundle into his winter coat, his mittens and his hat, by his great-grandmother who was awfully lethal with that cane of hers. The weather was warm, and he was sweating already, but she had insisted that someone who had just got out of the hospital should not go frolicking outside in nothing but a short-sleeved shirt and his shorts.

The blond blinked stupidly at him. "What's with the coat?" he asked. "We're not in Antarctica."

"Tell that to Gran," he retorted, still glaring at Naruto. How dare the boy mock him so!

Naruto shrugged, and jammed his hands into his pockets. "So, where do you want to go? I've got. . ."

He pulled out a handful of change, and counted it. "Six dollars and seventy-five cents."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "What on earth are you going to get for that?" he asked, his voice mocking.

The blond shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe ice cream. Or coffee."

Sasuke shuddered at the mention of ice cream. Though it might have been spring like weather outside, it was still far too cold for ice cream in his opinion. "The ice cream shop isn't open yet, dork," he growled, pulling out his own wallet and counting the bills there.

"Show-off," Naruto muttered, eyeing his boyfriend's wallet.

". . .I have three hundred and forty-four dollars, and sixty-seven cents," Sasuke informed Naruto, remaining oblivious to the slack-jawed look the figure had compelled the blond boy to give him. "Where do you want to go and what do you want to do?"

Naruto crossed his arms and sulked. "That's not fair," he grumbled.

He was kind of jealous of Sasuke for having that kind of money, but it wasn't his jealously of Sasuke's wealth - the other teen had paid quite a dear price to have his family fortune in his hands - that was making him sulk. He had wanted to buy Sasuke something, but as it turned out, Sasuke could buy whatever he wanted, really. To buy anything of value, Naruto would probably have to get a part-time job six different locations, and give up ramen, and save his allowance for at least six weeks. Sasuke could have bought any item in that time frame without blinking an eye. It made Naruto feel kind of . . .useless.

Sasuke looked up at him, snapping shut his wallet and shutting it. He shoved it into his back pocket, almost angrily. "Valentine's," he muttered, almost violently, and Naruto gave him a blank stare.

Sasuke went a furious red colour, and said, "Valentine's Day was last week. We didn't get each other anything. What do you want?"

Naruto snorted. If there was one thing he'd never believed in, it was that mushy-gushy crap of Valentine's. He thought that getting the people you loved presents on a set date, simply because of that date marked on the calendar, was dumb. A birthday was all right, but anniversaries, and other things like that, he tended to ignore. He remembered last year, he'd saved his allowance for what had seemed like forever, and he'd managed to save enough money to buy Iruka a bottle of cologne that the brunet wanted, but would never buy, because he felt buying Naruto the things he wanted was more important. He remembered giving it to Iruka, who had looked at him dubiously, and said, "What's the occasion?"

He had replied that there had been no occasion, and there wasn't; it was just a random gesture of his appreciation of all that Iruka did for him, on a random day on the calendar that would have otherwise had no significance in their lives. Naruto thought that while it might have been nice to receive gifts, it would be nicer to receive them for no apparent reason.

"Forget it, Sasuke. Valentine's is dumb," the blond grumbled, turning away, jamming his hands deeper into his pockets, letting his shoulders sag.

The dark-haired boy frowned, and said nothing. He wasn't about argue with Naruto over Valentine's Day. He personally thought the holiday was completely stupid, and he hated it. It had always been just another excuse for his fan club to make a fuss over him, and every now and then, bury him knee-deep in sappy poems, love letters, and those cheesy valentine cards that had always made him want to hunt down their writers and burn them.

He turned away from Naruto and stuffed his own hands into his pockets, frowning. He felt obligated to get Naruto something; after all, it was the only holiday that celebrated stupidity in his personal opinion. Naruto, being the epitome of dumb, certainly deserved something then. But then again, what was a lost trinket between the two of them? He could have bought something, though, something substantially more than a stupid little knick-knack, even though he knew Naruto would appreciate anything and everything.

"Oy," the blond said at last, breaking the sulky silence that had fallen between them. "Let's get going, eh? Day's a'wasting."

Sasuke turned about to face Naruto, and they started to walk. They walked, side-by-side, but they didn't talk. They walked downtown, and Naruto suggested catching the bus to the other side of town, but Sasuke simply shrugged, not really knowing of anything that was all that interesting over that way.

Naruto suggested a movie. Sasuke said there was nothing playing. Naruto suggested a coffee. Sasuke said he didn't drink coffee. They argued like that, and they were quickly getting frustrated with each other, as they couldn't decide what to do. Sasuke was thinking he should give up and go home. He had tons of homework to catch up on anyway.

Naruto stopped suddenly and squealed in pure delight. "Look! A pet shop!" he practically screeched and latched onto Sasuke's arm, pointing.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "I don't want to go in there," he muttered. "I hate animals. They make me sneeze."

"You're allergic to everything," the blond grumbled, then looked pleadingly at him. "Please Sasuke? Iruka won't let me have a pet. I just wanna look."

"Fine," the older boy muttered, and looked away from Naruto, hating the fact that the blond's puppy dog eyes always melted him.

They crossed the street, uncaring of the traffic around them, and wandered into the shop, the bell on the door tinkering and signalling their arrival. Sasuke held a tissue at the ready. Naruto clasped his hands to his chest eagerly. There were birds, and kittens and puppies - the typical fare - and there were more exotic pets, like expensive tropical fish, and rare lizards. Naruto made his way about the store, his eyes big and glassy, plastering his face to every tank and staring idiotically. Sasuke blushed, and decided that if anybody asked, he didn't know the blond.

"Look! Sasuke!" Naruto chirped, and the older boy grit his teeth and turned about.

"What?"

"Isn't he adorable?" Naruto asked, holding a little shih-tzu puppy up beside his head. The little dog had its tongue lolling out of its mouth, and its tail was wagging like there was no tomorrow.

"Whatever," the older teen muttered, and turned about, pretending to eye the fish in the tank he was standing next to.

Naruto put the puppy down, letting it run wild, and wandered over to join Sasuke, who was far too intent on the fish for his own good. "Oh, hey!" the blond said, pointing at the fish, which eyed him warily. "Iruka has some of those. We put them in the pond out back in the summertime. They're. . .uh. . ."

"Koi," Sasuke supplied in a dead monotone.

Naruto pushed his finger against the glass of the tank. "Hey! That one looks like you!"

Sasuke arched an eyebrow and looked at Naruto. "Really?" he asked dubiously.

"Yeah!" the blond said, nodding. "It does. I mean, look at it. It's all pouty, and sulky, and it's ignoring the other fish, with that, 'holier than thou' attitude."

"Naruto," Sasuke said in exasperation. "The other fish are beating it up."

"Well, it's just because he thinks he's better than them," Naruto huffed.

Sasuke frowned, and rolled his eyes, looking back into the tank. "Well, if that one looks like me, that one looks like you," he grumbled, pointing at another fish.

Naruto blinked. "Uh? Which one?"

"The big, stupid orange one," Sasuke replied with a smirk.

"Hey!"

Naruto punched Sasuke in the arm, before they fell silent, watching the fish swim around in circles. As it turned out, the big orange fish started chasing the other fish that had been attacking the black one Naruto had pointed to earlier. Naruto cooed. "Aw, isn't that sweet. They like each other."

Sasuke gagged. Just then, a little bell rang, and the shopkeeper came up from the back. "Hello there boys," she said, with a small smile. "Anything I can help you with today?"

Sasuke shook his head, and Naruto ignored her, watching the fish swim round and round. The shopkeep walked over, her hands in the pockets of her apron. "Ah, the koi fish. They're gonna be popular in the next few months. Spring's coming, and people like to put them in ponds."

"We have a pond," Naruto said, almost lethargically.

The lady gave him an odd look, then smiled at him. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'll be at the front of the shop."
She walked off, leaving Naruto to stare at the fish. Sasuke sulked and tugged on the boy's arm. "Come on, Naruto. Let's get out of here," he grumbled.

"I want those fish," the blond said.

"Oh, good grief," Sasuke muttered. "No."

Naruto turned about. "Please Sasuke? Please? I won't ask you for anything else."

Sasuke sighed heavily. "No. Iruka will kill you. And me. And besides. Then we have to go straight home. Where would you put them?"

"In the tank. It's upstairs, in the spare bedroom. Iruka won't care; he likes koi fish. Only kind of pet he can stand."

"Naruto, no."

"Please? Come on, please? I'll put in my change," the blond whined, latching onto Sasuke's arm.

"I hate you," the older boy muttered, sighing in defeat, and heading for the counter.

Ten minutes later, they left the store, each with a plastic bag full of water and fish nestled in their arms. "I really hate you," Sasuke muttered, glaring in Naruto's direction.

Naruto smiled happily. "I love you too," he replied.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Shikamaru glanced at Ino, wondering why the girl had been so distant as of late. They used to be best friends, but somehow, somewhere, they had drifted apart. Not that he cared anyway. Ino was far too troublesome.

Still, when Ino said 'talk', she usually meant 'talk', not 'sit together in companionable silence', as they were doing then and there. It bothered him, although he may not have wanted to admit it. Ino was thinking about something, deeply, and that almost scared him. She hadn't said a word to him since they'd walked to this place together.

They were sitting on the swings at the park, avoiding the park benches, which were dripping with the melted snow, and ice. The swings were at least a tad drier. The endless blue sky vaulted over them, and occasionally, Shikamaru would tip his head back and watch the clouds drift by, in no hurry to go anywhere. The clouds had it so easy. They didn't have to think, or feel. They had no decisions to make, and no destination to go to very quickly. They simply went where the wind told them to. If he were to die, and if he was bothered to believe in such a thing as reincarnation, he would like to live his next life as a cloud. It might have turned out short, as clouds changed and weathered, then died in the course of a day or two, but he didn't doubt that it would be better than living many, many days as a complicated human being. He liked things to be simple.

Ino was being anything but simple right now. Girls were complex, and puzzle that he could have pieced together if he had the patience for such things, but he didn't and found that puzzles were too troublesome for him. He'd rather watch the clouds roll by, and wish he was one of them.

He looked at the blonde girl next to him, growing nervous with her continuing silence. She was counting the pebbles under the swings. "Shikamaru," she said at last, and he jerked his vision downwards, almost falling off the swing in the process.

"What?" he asked, holding back a bored sigh. Something was obviously up here; he just wished she'd hurry up and tell him, instead of playing this silence game girls were so fond of.

"You're smart," she replied, her eyes on the ground again, as if she was thinking. "What's it like to be in love? How do you know?"

He stared at her for a moment. It was unprecedented, it was unheard of, it was ludicrous! Yamanaka Ino, the extraordinary flirt, was asking him, bonafide loser, for love advice? He snorted, and looked at the sky. "I don't know. It's too troublesome," he muttered.

If she was just going to be dumb and play games with him, she had better leave. He didn't like important things, let alone little trivial things like her games. She smiled and scuffed the gravel with her shoe. "I thought you'd say that," she mumbled, a sad sort of smile gracing her lips.

It shocked him, to see her vulnerable. She was not someone who liked to be caught with her guard down. Ino was brash, bold and brazen. She was not afraid, and she was strong, not weak. He'd never seen her like this before. He hoped it didn't mean anything. He didn't want it to; it was simply too troublesome to dig through this action, find the meaning, and then, be crushed and wrong. He sighed.

"Ino, you know I suck at things like this. You should be asking someone else," he grumbled, hoping that would scare her off.

"Who else is there?" she asked, and in a second, she turned her eyes on him, and he really didn't know what to say.

"Tell me that," she begged. "Tell me who else I can talk to. Nobody else knows me like this. You won't make fun of me. You won't tell anybody else that I'm not who I pretend to be. It's just too troublesome for you."

She finished with a smirk, and he smirked back, shaking his head. "You're terrible," he muttered, closing his eyes, yet feeling a little bit of a blush and a self-satisfied smirk rise to his features.

So what if he wasn't like Uchiha? So what if the girls didn't bother with him, and made fun of his attitude? They were all too troublesome anyway. He'd seen the lengths Uchiha went to in order to ensure that his fan club stayed at least seventy-four and a half feet away from him at all times. He didn't want that.

But someone thought he was smart, and someone was glad of his attitude, besides himself. He guessed that, just as no two clouds were exactly the same, it took all kinds of people, different people, to make the world the way it was.

"Ino, I don't know, or care about these things. You'd be much better off asking someone else."

The blonde girl said nothing for a moment or two, and the wind was the only sound that whispered between them. "You're right," she said at last. "You're not the person I should be talking to. Thanks anyway."

She rose from the swing, and walked away, her head down, watching her feet as they crossed the snow, and the dead grass that the melt had left open to the air. Shikamaru watched her go, pondering that she didn't even manage to say goodbye, but in the end, he ignored it, and looked up, watching the clouds as they rolled by.

- - - - - - - - - -

Temari. Odd name, even odder person. The girl acted so cool and mature, and yet, could be so childish, like a spoiled princess. She had been raised in hardship, and lived in it still, but she wanted all the finer things in life; wanted the life of the rich and the famous for herself. But she had no way to get it: no connections, no education, no money, no talent.

Still, that was what she aspired to, but she worked as a waitress, serving complaining customers for six dollars an hour, plus tips that were few and far between. Her hands were rough and callous, and the skin was often wrinkled due to long hours spent immersed in dirty dish water, and she couldn't afford to buy a new pair of shoes, so her feet were always sore. Her uniform was dirty, because she couldn't afford to get that coffee stain steam cleaned out.

She lived in a rundown little apartment, with her brothers, and all their furniture was old, and the electricity and hot water was naught. Their lamps were always dim, and their water always ice. The heater barely worked, and there was no air conditioning. They could barely afford the rent, let alone groceries and those extras, like those new shoes she wanted.

She had a car, an old rust bucket she could barely afford to put gas in now, but she couldn't afford the insurance on it, so it went, without insurance, and she wondered what would happen if it was ever stolen. She supposed she'd be out a car, but not much more.

Her brother, Kankuro was an up-and-coming puppeteer for the now-extinct breed of theatre called Bunraku. It heeded little fame, and paid less, and Temari was sorely tempted at times, to tell him to shut up and get a real job. Still, it was a little extra, which meant they could afford a little more at the grocery store, or she could put some more gas in her car. His jobs were few and far between though, mostly children's shows, which he hated, for Bunraku was far more noble than that, or so he felt. She thought he was crazy.

Gaara, her other brother, was gone now, and she wasn't sure if that was a relief, or a plight. Gaara had been idle, a useless pair of hands, but he could have got a job, could have brought home more money, put more bread on the table, or put some more gas in her car. Maybe then she could have got those new shoes. But he was gone now, and she was fairly sure he wasn't coming back.

She worked seven days a week, and she didn't have many street clothes, because she came home and changed out of her uniform, into her pyjamas and went to bed. She didn't go out. She couldn't afford to. She hated her routine, and it was depressing that her life was such a case-and-point of human society. What was life, really, when all you did was work, eat, and sleep?

The bright point in her life was playing with people's minds. It was something she did well, and had she the money, or the education, or the money to get an education, Kankuro had suggested to her on occasion that she would have made a great psychiatrist. She barely believed him.

Right then, and right there, she was playing with the mind of a girl called Yamanaka Ino. Ino was a blonde, pretty girl, with a brash, bold attitude that Temari couldn't help but like, because of its resemblance to her own brazen attitude. Ino, however, like so many others, hung on her every word, and it made her confident, made her feel like she had some sort of power to control her.

She liked to pretend. One moment she was the good girl, whom Ino couldn't help but love, and the next, she was a vixen, that seduced the poor girl, and blinded her, and in all but a minute's time, she was the wicked witch of the west, who had wronged Ino so many times before. But which feeling was the truest; which person was the real Temari? Ino couldn't choose and she wanted to believe so badly that it was that person she had first met, or even the second personality, but she was almost sure that it was that third person, the third person she dreaded and wanted to banish away.

Temari loved to see the confusion play on the blonde girl's face, and she loved to see her try to sort out all the confusing feelings that were inside her. It felt good, and it made Temari feel powerful, knowing she was the cause of this conflict, knowing she was the only one who could sway the way it went. She was the only one who could resolve this conflict. In the end, she would decide which of her personas won out.

Temari's life was dull, and dreary, and she wished that it was brighter, and she wished she was not so strapped into the routine that she was. But she could still play. She didn't need money, and she didn't need friends to play with the minds of others. Emotions were something free, emotions were something she could feed on when there was no real food to keep her going.
And she loved it.

- - - - - - - - - -

Orochimaru had been watching Itachi. What he saw hadn't pleased him, but he had yet to come across any hard evidence that would prove his suspicions about his boyfriend's new hobby. He hated to see another life, more promising than his would ever be, go that way, and drown in the tidal wave of addiction and dirty needles.

He'd have to kill Kabuto if Itachi went that way. Once in a while, he did not care if Itachi took something to loosen up. Once in a while, it would do Itachi good. Right now, it was harmful; right now, it was killing him.

He'd seen the needles littered about the floor, spilling from the empty brown paper bags, which smelled of the powder, and their creases told him that they'd been sitting full of it. He hated it. Itachi never let him see him inject it though, and he couldn't say anything until he knew that the boy was doing this to himself.

Itachi's behaviour toward the general subject of drugs was his first indication. He mentioned the needles, casually, and the Uchiha heir got defensive, uptight, and usually stormed off, refusing to speak to him. He mentioned getting high, and Itachi wouldn't comment, but would sit, tight-lipped, chewing on his bottom lip ever so slightly, reigning in his inner thoughts.

Itachi got skittish if Orochimaru decided to clean his room, or even mentioned doing that, or mentioned the fact that there were lots of little brown bags up there, full of used needles. But behaviour wasn't much to go on. He needed something more solid to accuse the boy of.. Itachi, he knew, would have to be caught in the act before he'd ever admit to anything.

He'd been watching Itachi, for the past three or four days now, and he had to admit, the boy was good at keeping secrets. He hadn't mentioned anything, and he'd locked himself in Sasuke's room, before the boy had come home, and then, in the bathroom, or his parents' now deserted bedroom.

Now, however, he had all the evidence he needed to prove that Itachi was injecting the drug into himself, for himself. He was sitting on the bed, and Itachi walked in, fresh from his shower. The marks were so evident then; some of them scabbed over, some of them pinkish, or even tinged red, and one of them, black, a deep terrible colour, made so by infection.

They stared at each other, blankly for several minutes, and then, Itachi knew he was caught, and he closed the door behind him, giving in to shame and fear. "So what?" he grumbled.

"So what?" Orochimaru returned, voice joking, but humourless. "What are those marks?"

"Doesn't matter," Itachi grumbled, looking down, and letting his hair fall into his face, hiding his expression.

"Yes, it does," Orochimaru returned.

He grabbed Itachi's wrist, turning it over, as if he needed to inspect the wounds more closely. The younger teen hissed and tried to pull away. "Don't," he murmured.

He wouldn't look at Orochimaru, and he was ashamed. He didn't want Orochimaru to know. It would hurt him; his ego, because now, Orochimaru would think he was weak, and stupid. He was, but he wasn't going to admit it. He'd never admit anything like that. Self-depreciation wasn't his thing.

It would make Orochimaru hate him. Orochimaru always sneered at those who thought drugs were the way out, were cool, or were anything to be done regularly. Orochimaru, though having a liberal attitude, was very mature in his views on drug use. He believed a little bit never hurt anybody, and that you only lived once.

But Orochimaru had seen the downside of drugs ever since he was small. He had seen addiction, and he had seen all the lengths, all the insanity the drugs drove people to, and he never wanted to look back. He never wanted to see somebody dig their own shallow grave with substance abuse again.

Itachi still wasn't looking at him, his eyes fixed on the floor, and though he didn't want to admit it, and would never admit it, there were tears burning at the edges of his eyes, trying to force their way out and make his shame known to the world.

His head was titled gently upward, and lips met lips, and then, tongue met tongue, gently, slowly, and almost sadly. It last only the fraction of a second, before it ended, but it dragged on forever, with the other teen's lips slowly pulling away, fading away from his own and becoming another memory to lose.

"I thought I was the only drug you needed," Orochimaru whispered, and they opened their eyes, their gazes meeting and boring into each other, paralysing them.

Itachi pulled away. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, looking at the floor, his words running into each other, becoming indeterminable.

There was silence between them for quiet a while, before Orochimaru, taking a tighter hold on Itachi's wrist, said, firmly, "You're getting off this stuff."

Itachi hissed and pulled away. "I don't think so," he growled, glaring at Orochimaru. "This was my choice."

Orochimaru pushed him away, to the floor, and started snatching up needles and bags from the ground. "I don't care what you think. I'm not going to watch you fuck up," he growled, throwing the stuff in the garbage.

Itachi stared at him, sulking, on the floor, but not moving, not daring to fight the other boy, though he knew he could, and should. It wouldn't do to have the older thinking that he could get away with pushing him around. He couldn't, and he needed to be put back in his place. "Orochimaru," he growled.

The other boy looked at him. He frowned and glared. "You're not the only drug I need."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura had to admit, it hurt. She and Ino had been friends since they were in kindergarten, and rivals since sixth grade. Now, they didn't even speak to each other, and now, she had to watch Ino from afar.

Ino wouldn't speak to her, ever since Sakura had seen her go away in that black car. It sounded childish, but they were confused, or at least, she was, and Ino left her on her own to be confused. She hated it, and she wanted someone to explain all this to her.

She'd thought they'd been happy together. She honestly had. They got along so well together, but now, it was all like some sort of faded memory, painted in watercolours and she couldn't quite remember the vividness it once had. She hated this confused feeling, and she wanted her world to make sense again.

Things had made sense before. She and Ino were rivals, Sasuke was unobtainable, Naruto was an idiot, Shikamaru was lazy, and Lee was forever chasing her, though he'd never, ever get her. She wanted things to be clean cut like that again. It made sense when things were simple.

Now, she wasn't sure where she stood. Ino wouldn't talk to her; they were nothing anymore, Shikamaru ignored her, Lee plotted against her happiness, and Sasuke had been obtained by that idiot Naruto. It made her head spin. Where was happily ever after in such a messed up fairy tale?

Well, nobody ever said life was easy, and this certainly wasn't one of the easier things she'd ever had to do. It was hard to watch Ino walk away from her, when once they'd walked side by side and been friends, and it hurt when Ino shut her mouth and refused to speak, because once they'd been so open and spoke to each other of deep secrets that not even the moon would know of.

Who could she turn to in all of this? Where was her solace, where was her saviour? Nobody seemed to be there, nobody seemed to be on her side anymore. It was like they were all playing against her. She wanted to know who she could trust and who she couldn't. Then again, she supposed if she couldn't even trust Lee, who had so long wanted to be her knight, her prince, that she could trust no one. She was on her own.

It scared her to think that she was alone, and now, she had to be strong, for herself. She had to work harder, she had to be tougher, and she couldn't let others talk on her behalf, and scare away all the bullies. She had to intimidate, she had to outwit, and she had to win over those she could, make them join her side, and stomp on others who would sneer and jibe her, and never join her side.

They could say what they wanted. She was only who she was, and she couldn't change it. She was Haruno Sakura, with pink hair, and green eyes, and she was a very intellectual girl. She was Haruno Sakura, and no matter what, she couldn't be strong. She just couldn't.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Iruka glared at Naruto, who was pointing at the two new fish in the tank. The blond was overly loving of the things already, and Iruka almost wished they didn't own fish, or a pond. "See, see! That one there, that's Sasuke, 'cause he's all pouty. And that one there, the bright orange one, that's me, 'cause. . .well, I like orange," he finished with a grin.

"Naruto," Iruka said with a sigh. "Where did you get the money for the fish?"

The blond's grin grew wider still. "Sasuke bought them for me! Valentine's present and all. Said he felt bad about not getting me anything."

Iruka looked at him, his face sceptical. "Oh, really?" he asked.

"He insisted!" Naruto replied, waving his hands about for emphasis, and smashing his hand back against the glass. "Ow!"

Iruka shook his head, and looked at the fish a little more closely. "They're nothing special," he muttered.

Naruto looked offended. "How can you say that, Iruka! It's Sasuke and I - as fish! Are you saying we're not special?"

"Not as fish, you aren't," the brunet grumbled, and walked out of the room.

Naruto trailed behind him. "Iruka!" the blond cried. "I need money!"

"What?" the teacher asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and turning about abruptly.

Naruto nodded. "I. . .uh, need to borrow some money, Iruka. I need to get Sasuke a present."

The teacher sighed exaggeratedly and fished out his wallet. "All right. How much did you need?"

He started thumbing through the poor selection of bills there. Naruto scuffed his foot against the floor. "Um. . .about three hundred."
"Three hundred," Iruka said, then paused. "Three hundred! What the hell do you need three hundred dollars for!"

The blond ducked his head, looking at the floor, then peered up through his bangs, a strange expression scrawled on his face. "Um. . .well, I wanted to get him something special. . .and. . .I uh. . ."

Iruka sighed and put his hand on Naruto's shoulder. "Naruto. Whatever you give Sasuke will be special, okay? You don't need to spend three hundred dollars for it to be special."

The blond pouted. "Iruka!" he whined.

Iruka sighed. "Whatever you had in mind is too expensive. Save that for when you two are more serious, okay? For now get him something else."

"We are serious!" Naruto yelled, flinging his arms around again. "He doesn't want anything else!"

"I'm sure you'll find something," the teacher said reassuringly, before turning around and walking down the hall again.

Naruto sulked, crossing his arms and frowning. "Stupid Iruka," he muttered. "There's nothing else I can get Sasuke. He gets everything, and anything he doesn't, he buys himself. He throws out everything his fan club gives him."

He stormed into his room, slamming the door shut. He sat down on his bed and sulked, hating Iruka with every fibre of his being. Sure, Sasuke had only got him fish. Still, it seemed only fitting that he should get something Sasuke wanted, or at least would like in return. Sasuke didn't like a lot though, and there wasn't a lot Sasuke wanted. He hated Sasuke too, for being so picky.

Girls, you could buy them flowers, and they would be perfectly happy with that, because at least you remembered. Sasuke, he doubted, would be impressed by a bunch of flowers. He'd probably complain that he was allergic to them and throw them out, even if Naruto bought him hypo-allergenic flowers.

He sulked some more, and tried to think of other things he could buy. Pretty much anything, and everything, except for flowers or candy, both being hated by Sasuke, was out of his price range. He didn't want to make Sasuke something, because that seemed tacky and third grade like, so he thought and thought, and almost ended up in frustrated tears. How was it that whenever he cared, he could never show it properly?

It really, really was the pits he decided, still drawing a blank about what to get Sasuke. He sighed and dumped his piggy bank out, counting the spare change. He could buy coffee, chocolates, flowers or ice cream. That was about it. Or he could maybe buy a couple of candles and try his hand at cooking, but he doubted that would be impressive. He could make ramen, and that was about it. Sasuke didn't hate ramen, but he had a strong dislike for it.

"Bah," he grumbled, throwing himself back on his bed. "I can't buy him anything."

Downstairs, he heard a knock at the door, and then, he heard voices. One was Iruka's, and one was Kakashi's. He frowned, and wondered what they'd given each other for Valentine's. He knew Iruka probably knitted something, or cooked something, or did something like that, or maybe bought flowers, or something else. He had no idea what Kakashi would buy for Iruka though. Probably something extravagantly perverted, like the Kama Sutra. He snorted into his pillow.

"I need a job," he muttered, rolling over again and looking up at the ceiling.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke growled, listening to his brother and his boyfriend having a fight next door. Didn't they have any respect for people who were still recovering and trying to sleep? Apparently not. He snorted. Itachi never had much compassion for anyone.

He felt bad about buying those damn fish for Naruto. He didn't mind so much the fact that he had bought fish as a Valentine's present, but that now, Naruto was going to feel obligated to buy him something, even though the blond didn't have much money to spare. Sasuke didn't mind much. He'd never really been about materialism. He'd always chosen someone who was true and loyal to him over someone who thought they knew how they felt about him, and showered him in gifts to belay their affection.

He sighed and turned over. He knew Naruto was going to worry about this, and try to buy him the next thing he saw that he wanted, whether it be the moon in the sky or lunch in the cafeteria tomorrow. He really didn't care what the blond bought him, just so long as he didn't get worked up about it.

He knew he was a hard person to buy for. He didn't want, need or like much. As he'd said, he was never one for materialism. He wanted to tell Naruto that it was okay, and he didn't need anything or want anything, so he didn't have to buy him anything, but that just wasn't in the blond's nature. It was irksome to say the very least.

He sighed and rolled over again, sighing. All he really wanted from Naruto was some good company - someone who was better company than his walls, or his brother and Orochimaru, or all his adoring fans. He really, really had begun to hate society and all the humans contained there within, before he'd awkwardly fallen on his face for Naruto. Absently, he rubbed his nose.

He turned over again, grumbling about the occupants of the other room, before hitting it, shouting, "Will you shut up!"
He settled back down into his bed, pulling the covers over his head. Honestly, all he asked was good company. Sure, Naruto was annoying, and dumb and about a billion other things, but it really didn't matter. Naruto. . .was nice to him, Naruto would fight with him, and Naruto had a sense of humour. A good sense of humour, he added mentally, glancing at the wall and remembering that Orochimaru thought he was funny.

He sighed, curled up and went to sleep.

- - - - - - - -