Good News, Bad News

Chapter 4: To Write or Not to Write

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. Why must I repeat this? Is there really an idiot out there that will go, "Sure, I'm Kay-shi-maw-to, and I made NA-roo-toe!" ...I think not.

READ THIS! IF YOU DON'T, YOU WON'T GET IT!

Alright, time to give you the down low on Konoha and surroundings. Each "country" (ie Sand, Konoha, Mist, Sound, exc.) are more like city-states (think of Athens and Sparta without the togas). Really, really big city-states. Think of Konoha kinda like New Orleans without the swamps and bayous and humidity and hurricanes. It is split in two halves: there's a rich, suave, upper-class section (NorKo), and a southern region that has entertainment, shows, exc., which is an all-around place to have fun (South Konoha, or SoKo). SoKo also has more promiscuous behavior and more crime. While NorKo residents look down on SoKo, they still go there because there's no entertainment in their vicinity; and SoKo despises NorKo, but they depend on them for the basis of their income.

Randomness is the base of all conversation.

- Unknown

Please give me some good advice in your next letter. I promise not to follow it.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

To a PublicStudent, from an AcademyStudent:

Kabuki-

To start off, I would like to say thank you for pointing out what school you attend. I'm glad that you cleared that obviously confusing fact up for me. Let's see...I'm from Academy...you're from Public...and that was supposed to be a letter (and I quote) "To an Academy Student, from a Public Student"...I was so confused about the origin of the letter. I was also quite interested by the in-depth list of why a switch knife is better than a gun. It shall surely come in handy later on in my life. And I know what a Mafia don is, and I certainly know what the Yakuza is. I go to school in North Konoha, not Mist Valley. Where do you think all those rich top dogs live? Surely not in the slums of SoKo.

I hate ramen. End of story.

As for what I think of you, I believe that you are all bark, no bite. You are simply an egotistic coward, hiding with your "fierceness" behind paper and pen. A musical? Please. Don't bother me with your petty letters ever again. This was a complete waste of my time.

Sincerely,

P.S.

Sasuke looked over his letter, frowned, and added one last thing.

P.S. Who calls himself Kabuki anyhow?

P.S.

With an impassive face he folded the paper, put it in the envelope, and sealed it. 'Kakashi seems to think of more and more ways to constantly degrade us,' he thought bitterly. He carefully placed the letter in a folder, before getting up off his bed and stretching his arms. 'Why did I even bother writing back? It's not like Kakashi will even check.' Beginning to become a little perturbed because of all the stupidity, Sasuke opened his door with the intent to sit on the extremely comfortable couch and read (as the common room was normally empty- Shino didn't come out much); but instead of the usual empty silence he was so accustomed to, his ears were assaulted by the sounds of gunfire, helicopters and yelling.

"Dude! Dude! There's a guy behind you!"

"What? Where!"

"HAHAHAHA! SUCKER! You fell for the oldest trick in the book! Now die, DIE!"

"You're gonna pay for that- ha! Now who's the loser, eh?"

"Aw man! I missed! I never miss!"

"You always miss, dummy!"

"Not…THEN I didn't! Ha! Gotcha again!"

Sasuke glared at the scene before him. Kiba was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his blonde friend (what was his name again?) sitting next to him. Their eyes were narrowed (the blonde's tongue was sticking out of his mouth in concentration) as they stared at the flat, plasma screen TV that was before the couch, and were attacking their controllers as if they had thumbs of steel. There was a brief silent period in which only the clicking of buttons and the sound of computer-generated feet (because everyone makes those noises when they walk), and then a large explosion went off. Kiba threw his controller to the ground, jumped to his feet, and pumped his fist in the air in triumph, yelling, "BOUYAH!"

The blonde groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "This isn't happening! I never lose!"

After doing a strange, brief dance of some sort, Kiba turned to his friend, a gloating, condescending smile on his face and his arms crossed across his chest. "Hey, Naruto, I have some good news and some bad news!"

"Whuh?" the blonde mumbled through his hands, still not looking up.

"The good news is, one of us won! The bad news is, it wasn't you!"

Naruto lifted his head and pointed an accusing finger at Kiba. "The good news is, next time it will be!" he announced. "C'mon, best two outta three!"

The two were about to pick up their controllers again, when Kiba noticed Sasuke standing in the doorway of his room, an irritated look on his face. The dog lover grinned and scratched his head. "Hey Sasuke. How's it going?"

"What. The hell. Are you doing." Sasuke stated, teeth clenched together.

"Um...playing a video game?" Naruto answered, the sarcastic tone of his voice adding a silent 'No duh. What'd you think we were doing, watching World Wars in Action and cheering on the armies?'

"Well, stop it. It's annoying. Where's Shino? Can he even..."

Sasuke's voice trailed off as the said teenager walked out of the bathroom, took one look at the screen, then grabbed Naruto's controllere and said in a monotoned voice, "My turn."

Coming out of shock, Sasuke sent a fresh glare in Naruto's direction. "Why are you here anyway?" Sasuke demanded from the blonde.

Naruto raised his eyebrows. "Jeez, Sasuke, I'm sorry my very presence makes you angry." (He ignored Kiba's comment of "It's not your presence- he's always a prick.") "I got here like an hour ago. Didn't you hear me come in?"

"..."

"...I'll take that as a no, then." Naruto got up off the floorand walked over to Sasuke, an apologetic grin on his face. "Listen, Sasuke, I wanna apologize for how I acted when I first met you. I mean, I didn't even try to explain who I was. Sorry if I made you feel embarrassed or anything." He wondered vaguely why Sasuke looked so shocked, but pushed it to the back of his mind.

Little did Naruto know, however, that Sasuke was in shock. The cheerful, sincere blonde had no idea that during Sasuke's entire life, not one person had been sincere to the handsome boy from the wealthy family. People apologized for things, sure, but they had never been sincere. They either wanted something from him, or were afraid of him. Sasuke knew whether a person was being sincere or not just by looking in their eyes. This skill began at Sasuke's parent's funeral, as the multitude of powerful and influential people lined up to give their condolences to Sasuke and his older brother. The eight-year-old Sasuke had looked straight into each and every person's eyes as they passed the last Uchihas by. Some nervously averted their eyes, and a few other held his gaze, which was not so piercing at the time but was still as intense. But not one single person, the boy later realized with a jolt of hurt, loneliness, and anger, had actually cared. They were all just putting on an act, a facade. Right then and there, Sasuke decided that all people care about are themselves and what they can do to help themselves, so why even bother associating with anyone at all? And ever since that day, the once innocent and wide-eyed boy became cool and distant from everyone around him. The fact that he grew up in NorKo, surrounded by people living evanescent, fake lives made his theory grow stronger and stronger by the hour.

But here was this teenager- this no-good,loud, dirtySoKo kid with spiky blonde hair- grinning at him and apologizing to him over something so trivial and stupid as a name mix up, with all the sincerity in the world shining from those deepblue eyes. It made something deep in Sasuke's cold demeanor crack. He could feel himself warming up to this charismatic boy. So much sincerity, so much hope...

Sasuke hated it.

"Whatever," he snapped, before turning around abruptly, taking one long stride back into his bedroom, and slamming the door.

Naruto raised one eyebrow. "What was that all about?" he muttered, before turning back to Kiba and Shino, who were staring fixedly on the television and plopping down on thecarpet."Go, Shino, go! Hahaha, dude, he's kicking your aaaaass!"

"Shaddup, foxface!"

Neji walked tiredly into his dorm room. As the President of ASB and of his class (not to mention his high-privilege status as the heir to a multi-billion dollar corporation), he received certain privileges, and one of those privileges just happened to be his own room. 'It's more of an apartment than a dorm- only a very small apartment', he had decided when he first saw his living space. He had been told to go ahead and decorate the place as he liked, with paint, refurbishing, decorations- whatever he wanted, and Neji had immediately taken the administration up on their offer. From a regular-looking, white walled room, he had transformed it into a fashionable, relaxing place for him to live; after all, he hated his uncle's house (which was more like a castle) because of the huge size and the people living there, and this solitary, cozy dorm room suited him perfectly. He even stayed there during the breaks, if he could help it.

Sighing, he sat down on the couch and dropped his book bag next to him. Neji looked over at his silver answering machine, with its blinking red light…and stared…and stared…he continued to glare (with a tired, glazed look of someone that hasn't had enough sleep or peace in quite a while) until the heir became quite convinced that the machine was mocking him, daring him to press the play button.

He knew what would be there to greet him, (oh, did he know) but the question was…did he dare push that tiny, insignificant button and add to his stress? Did he? He could hear the flashing light taunt him, mocking him…

Do you feel lucky punk? Do ya?

"I can't believe I'm imagining that my answering machine is saying something." he spoke aloud, exasperated. Brushing back his long hair, he leaned forward...just a little more…(it's only a button, only a button only a button)...and…(only a button, only a button, only a-)

"BEEEEP. You. Have. One. New. Messages. Message. One."

"Haaaaay Ji-Ji! How are you, sweetie? Ohmigawd, I had the time of my life with the girls last night! You wouldn't believe what Beth did! –insert giggles here- Anyway, I just wanted to say how much fuuuun I had on Wednesday. You were so sweet, getting me those flowers! And I absolutely adored the necklace you bought- ah! It was beyooootiful! You are such a sweetheart."

Neji rolled his eyes. She had practically demanded the necklace from him.

"And that restaurant was so quaint and cute! Though the management could have been a little cleaner- they had spots all over the tablecloth, and when I dropped my fork I actually had to ask for another one! Can you believe that? Well, you were there, so I'm sure you were aware of that…ugh. Buuuut I'm not nagging, it really was a cute place to go to! But let's go to the White Heron next time."

Neji rolled his eyes again. So much for her wanting to go to 'one-of-those-hole-in-the-wall-places,-Ji-Ji! 3'

"I can't wait until we go on our next date! We should go to SoKo!" Yeah, only so she could shop. With his money. "Any who, I've got to be running now! Ta-ta, snookums!"

"BEEEEEP. End. Of. Message."

He groaned and dropped his head into the crook of his right arm, letting his left one dangle off the couch. He was Neji Hyuuga- rich, sophisticated, admired, awed, intelligent, a leader of his generation- and his girlfriend had the maturity of a twelve year old at the candy store. 'Why do I put up with her?' he asked himself, exasperated.

'Because you may be level headed normally, but when she wears those short shirts and her leather boots you'd do anything for her. You are male, you know.'

'Oh, shut up.' Neji told himself miserably. 'Don't you have anything better to do than to say the truth?'

'Of course not,' the voice replied smugly. 'I'm your conscience. It's my job. Plus, it's fun to bug you.'

'Seriously, shut up.' He paused for a moment. 'Wait, why am I arguing with myself?'

'We're not arguing- I'm stating a fact. Say, don't you have an English assignment to do?'

Giving up on the losing battle with himself, the ASB president lazily stretched in the other direction of the couch and grabbed one of his folders. Opening the yellow manila envelope that his teacher had given him, he scanned the college-lined paper in a lazy, indifferent manner. Suddenly he froze, and then sat up straight, eying the letter with a new interest. By the time he had re-read the letter at least three times a hint of a smile was playing on the corners of his mouth. 'What an odd person.' Smirking, he grabbed his own notebook and began his replying letter with neat, precise handwriting (that sharply contrasted the crazy, to-the-point, dramatic flaunts of his pen pal's writing).

To a Public Student, from an Academy Student:

Numero Uno,

My my, it sounds like someone has an unnecessarily large amount of hatred in their ammo. A bit bitter, are we? I was, in fact, expecting a dull, ordinary, ignorant letter written by a dull, ordinary, ignorant person, and I am pleased to see that I was given the exact opposite. True, some students do take advantage of their parent's wealth, and Academy does have its slackers- but although they are more of a partying crowd, we do have our fair share of intelligent people (they don't make us pay such a high tuition for nothing, you know).

Despite your rants on appearances (and because of them), I am, actually, going to guess that you are a woman.

Yours, El Presidente

He found it appropriate that if his new pen pal's pseudonym was in Spanish, his should be as well.

Author's Note: Okay, okay, I'm sorry it took so long. I was just dreading to write Ino's letter, but the plot bunnies resisted. So finally I said "SCREW IT." and cut out that part, which in turns makes the chapter shorter. MORE WILL COME.