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Chapter 24: Between Sheets and Paper
AN: It's weird. I'm posting this (the Christmas chapter) near Christmas, and I didn't even plan that. Please note that if you haven't read the latest manga arc, two characters will be unfamiliar.
Also, Worlds Aids Day was December 1. I don't know if you guys did anything (the Gay Straight Alliance I'm part of did an awareness day), but it is a serious issue. Inform yourself, prevent it from spreading, all the lovely stuff. Thank you. And Kimimaro's medical status has been changed to just HIV positive, not AIDS.
I disclaim
o
Dated: December 22
Dear Gaara,
Hey. I'm not sure when this letter will get to you, or if it gets to you at all. But if you are reading this, I guess it got to you eventually.
Anyways, how are you? Things are going better than I thought they would, I guess. I'm in the hotel right now, waiting for Hanabi to finish getting ready so we can finally leave. Hiashi has some business to do today so a 'professional chauffeur' is taking us sightseeing. We get to go to an art museum and then the Eiffel Tower ('You can't go to Paris and not see the Eiffel Tower,' the chauffeur said. He's so damn perky and flamboyant; he and Hanabi get along great when Hiashi isn't around), so hopefully it won't be all bad. We're going shopping tomorrow though… You can guess how I feel about that.
Paris in general is a nice place, though. This hotel is old and kind of rustic looking, and I've already taken a few pictures. The elevator is like a birdcage and really small, so I bet you would get claustrophobic in it.
When we get older, we have to travel; you would like it. It's like an escape…
Well, I hope everything is going just as good for you. Merry Christmas and all that. Love,
Neji
o
There was a partially empty bowl of soup sitting on the table, a metal spoon resting against the side. Kimimaro was lying stomach-up in the bed, wearing a clean pair of pyjamas (street clothing seemed a little pointless since his aunt refused to let him leave the house). The reflection in the spoon's handle was a distorted image of himself. His face was stretched out vertically to become comically thin, almost as if to parody his already unhealthy and skeletal weight.
"It must get pretty damn boring, just sitting here all day," Tayuya commented from where she sat, the chair tilted back on two legs and her feet resting on the side table.
"Nn," was his only reply. "It's just until this cold is gone."
A pause.
"You don't have to be here, you know."
Tayuya snorted. "Stop fucking saying that. Every time you say that, I'm just going to stay longer, now matter what your bitchy-ass aunt says. Got it?"
"Nn," he said again.
His eyes moved to the window and hers to the door. She had arrived earlier that morning, prancing into the house as if she owned it and defiantly making her way upstairs, skipping every two steps. He was already awake, but she apologized roughly as if she had been the cause anyways. His aunt made him breakfast, and offered to make Tayuya some toast and tea in a way that blatantly implied it would trouble her to do so. Tayuya politely declined, wondering if his aunt might have slipped something in the drink had she accepted.
Kimimaro's breakfast had been planned by a doctor to help him get his strength back up. Eggs, fruit, whole wheat toast and a small pile of multicoloured vitamin pills sitting beside the orange juice. Tayuya had watched him – one pill, two pills, three – and could look no more. It was the pills that were saving him.
After a while, Kimimaro's pale, vein-threaded eyelids had fallen shut, but Tayuya could tell he was just feigning sleep. It felt a little odd to her, being in his bedroom alone with him and not being close, physically. It was all so familiar; the bed, the dark coloured sheets, the scratches in the paint on the walls (pants, moans, sweat, skin, oh!), and how it would not, could not be that way any longer.
Kimimaro opened his eyes as Tayuya sat down next to him on the bed, and gave up his act.
"Are you going home now?" he asked. "Because all I'm going to do is sleep, so…"
"I don't fucking care, okay?" she muttered, resting a tanned hand over his, holding it to the mattress cover. "I'm staying for a little while more…"
o
"Naruto!"
The boy didn't stir.
"Naaaaruto!"
'Ugh, I don' wanna get up…'
There came a rather sharp knocking on the door, vaguely reminiscent of the first few bars of 'Deck the Halls' (but then again, Iruka was never very good at music so it could've been anything). "Uzumaki Naruto! You have a phone call!"
"Fucking phone call? What the Hell time is it?" Naruto muttered into his pillow as he rolled himself onto his back. Only partially awake, he squinted at the clock. "Noon? Who actually freaking calls at noon on the day before Christmas… My God…"
He heard another two knocks before the door opened and a portable phone went sailing over the messy interior to hit him rather accurately in the arm.
"Hey! That hurt!" Naruto grumbled, but was answered only with Iruka's laughter.
"I'm making pancakes. You better get up soon or I'll eat them all myself."
"Alright, alright…" Naruto shoved his face back into the pillow, remembering a second later about the phone call he was supposed to be taking. In the process of groping about for the phone, he knocked it off the bed onto the floor.
"Yes? What is it?" he growled once he managed to grasp it.
"H-hi. This is Itachi. Uh, Uchiha Itachi. Naruto?"
"Yeaaaah?" Naruto made a 'Why are you calling me?' face at the phone.
"Sorry for bothering you, but… have you seen Sasuke at all today? Talked to him lately?" The man's voice sounded faint and a little raspy, but Naruto dismissed it as the buzz that always altered one's voice on the phone.
"No, why would I have seen that… Er, no, I haven't," he said, slight concern in his voice.
"Oh… Alright. Well, if you see him, tell him to call me. Alright?"
"Yeah, sure… why?"
There was a thin, waning silence and Naruto became slightly concerned that he had overstepped his boundaries. A moment or two passed and the buzz crackled as Itachi started talking once more.
"It's just that… I…I think Sasuke has run away."
o
The waiting room of the clinic smelled a little too clean, as if someone were trying to cover something up with its pungently disinfected smell. In any case, that overpowering stench accompanied by people was doing nothing to help Ukon recover from his lack of sleep of the night before as he sat in a corner chair, knees pulled to his chest as his head lolled back against the wall.
He supposed it was his fault; he had been the one to go out to a party along with Temari, Kankurou and a few others and have a few too many of those drinks and… Well, the rest was history (though he still couldn't remember who that candy-cane smelling boy who kissed magnificently while they were in the coat closet together was). Sakon, of course, had had the unpleasant task of dragging his older twin out of bed the following morning so they could make a little visit to the clinic.
A child's shrieking laughter filled the air, and Ukon winced.
"Hey…" Someone prodded his shoulder lightly, and the lavender-haired boy forced himself to look up. Sakon stood over him, holding their coats.
"I'm done," he said. "We can go."
Ukon nodded, but still hesitated to move. "What'd he say?"
Sakon cocked an eyebrow. "What did who say?"
"The nice man in the white coat, that's who."
He sighed. "Results will be back in 7 to 10 days or so. They'll call."
"Alright then," Ukon didn't bother to put his coat on fully, just hanging it on his shoulders enough so it wouldn't easily fall off. "Help me up, would you?"
Sakon rolled his eyes, but did anyways.
They made their way out of the clinic, walking so close they had to be careful not to stumble over each other (Ukon's hand had found its way onto Sakon's back, comfortingly) and took the first door out onto the street. It was mid-day, but the sun was hidden behind a thick layering of ash-grey cloud, so the world looked a bit dim, especially with the many trails of exhaust fume wafting upwards from the cars that lined the roads like filthy dominoes.
Among the many burnt-out shades, though, was a spot of colour leaning against a telephone pole. Ukon's feet stopped short as he saw her, and Sakon had to catch himself as not to tumble down into the gutter.
It didn't take long for Tayuya to spot them, a stretched smiling making its way onto her face.
"Merry fucking Christmas, gentleman," she greeted them, taking broad steps over. She looked pretty much normal, considering how much had happened in the past while. They had not seen her since the Wednesday before school let out, and those days felt as though they had been stretched into months forming craters between them. She held a plastic bag in her hand, two rental DVDs peeking out the top.
"Hi, Tayuya-chan…" Ukon replied. "How've you been?"
"Um, kinda shitty, actually," she laughed, voice sounding a little hoarse. "I was just picking up some movies to watch with someone… What about you two?"
"Tired," he admitted, "but it's not that bad. Least there's no school."
"Got that right." Tayuya half-smiled and turned to Sakon. "What about you, quiet boy? Sick?"
He shrugged.
"C'mon. You came out of the clinic; why else would you be there?"
Ukon half-expected his brother to come up with some witty excuse and the conversation would somehow be able to uphold its light demeanour, but Sakon just stared at the ground, shifting his weight a little. The weight of the silence pressed on, nearly unbearable, until Ukon jabbed Sakon lightly with his elbow.
"Look," he muttered, "I know this doesn't seem the time, but if you're not going to tell her now, I am. I can't stand this; it's so stupid. I'm sorry, but it's not going to get any better this way, so-"
Tayuya's arched eyebrows crinkled in confusion that was trying not to suspect the worst. "Ukon-chan, what are you-"
"Fine," Sakon muttered. He allowed himself time for two breaths before daring to meet Tayuya's eye. "You're going to hate me, but fine.
"Tayuya," another breath, "I did something stupid a while ago. I liked Kimimaro. I slept with Kimimaro once, just once, on impulse. We didn't do anything like it again, and I promise I won't ever, and I'm-I'm sorry. It was stupid. Even if you don't believe me, I am, so sorry, and…" His eyes flickered for a second to the clinic door. "Ukon told me about… about Kimimaro being…sick, so I was getting tests done… just to be sure. That's all.
"I didn't mean to screw you guys up. I wasn't thinking. Damnit…" He exhaled deeply.
"Kimimaro didn't get… get sick from Sakon," Ukon felt obliged to add. "Tayuya, honey?"
Her purple-gloved hands had dropped from her hips to swing limply at her sides. She was looking not at either of the two, but in between them, expression serious but not quite upset.
"You fucked him," she said.
"…mmhmm."
Tayuya's eyes slipped from focus. "You fucked him… how…how could you? No, no don't answer it. My fucking God, Sakon, I… He… I can hardly believe this! No, no… shit."
The twins stood silent, allowing her continue to rambling.
"Alright… No, it's not alright…not alright at all." She let her head dip down before swinging it back up, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Okay. Um… fuck. Thank you for telling me that, actually, Sakon. I'd been thinking that… someone… alright. I still can't…you… fuck you… it's still better that you told me that, but… Damn. You know what? I think I'm gonna go to my fucking Hell of a home now, so… see you two later…"
"Are you sure you're okay?" Ukon asked after her as she began to turn.
In response, she shrugged. The corners of her mouth snagged, trying to keep from wilting as tears pushed at her lashes. "Okay? Hell no! How could I be? But there's no fucking point in sitting around and crying about it all winter vaca. It's life. I'm going to deal with whatever bullshit it gives me. I'm not going to be a little wimp let this mess me up. Okay, Ukon?"
He nodded. "If you're certain."
"Dad wants me home in a few hours; we've gotta go to some dumbass family gathering so I don't really have a choice on the leaving," she explained. "And yeah, I think I'm certain. Of course I'm fucking mad, and it hurts like a bitch, but… it's better then having you lie to me, right?"
The twins nodded in a simultaneous way that was almost cute and childlike, giving her a cue to exit stage right by jaywalking across a lane of traffic, giving a truck driver the finger as he swerved to avoid her.
"Can we go home now?" Sakon murmured into Ukon's shoulder, overcome with relief. His brother nodded and they began down the sidewalk in their odd gait once more, watching each other's feet.
o
A heavy drum solo pounded in the ears of the teen as he stretched himself out on the bus stop bench, glad that no one else was occupying it at the time. It was strangely and yet peacefully quiet on the far edges of town where the bus stop was, though harshly cold. The last house he had seen had been about a thirty-minute walk back and there wasn't as much traffic as he had expected. No one around. Just him, in the early evening darkness.
He checked his watch again; 10 more minutes until the bus would come.
10 more minutes until freedom.
Or so there would have been if a slightly rusty red car, painfully familiar, hadn't pulled up in front of the bus station with a squeal of brakes and the door shot open.
"Uchiha Sasuke, get your ass in this car right now!" Kisame shouted, irate.
Sasuke stared for a moment, irritation spreading over his face.
"No. Why the Hell should I?" he spat.
"Sasuke."
"I don't have to listen to you," Sasuke argued. "I'm leaving for a while; shouldn't you be happy about that?"
"You're going to get in this car and come home with me, or I'm going to drag you in here myself," Kisame growled, reaching over to undo his seatbelt. "Don't think I won't do it!"
"I doubt it."
As quickly as the Uchiha said these words Kisame had stepped out of the car. He was quite a bit taller than Sasuke, and capable of following through on his threats.
"Now."
"I don't…" Kisame's sharp glare cut him off, and Sasuke realized, rather bitterly, that he had been caught. "Fine. I'll get in your fucking car! Are you fucking happy now? Merry fucking Christmas Kisame, why don't you just go home and fuck my brother already!"
"Stop being such a baby and hurry up." Kisame responded, unfazed.
Grumbling curses under his breath, Sasuke picked up his duffel bag from the bench and stuffed his Discman inside. Kisame watched him as he literally threw the bag into the back seat and hopped in beside it, crossed his arms, and began glaring at the back of Kisame's headrest. The older quickly realized there was no way in Hell he was going to convince Sasuke to put on his seatbelt, so he took off down the road.
"How did you find me?" the brooding teen asked finally, after a long bout of silence in which he kept his eyes glued on his knees where he traced patterns with his fingernails on black denim.
Kisame grinned, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror. "Look, there's one thing you have to understand here. I didn't get you because I wanted to. I'm only here because I couldn't stand to see your brother spend any more time worrying over you."
"That's a lie! Itachi wasn't-"
Kisame nodded. "Believe it, brat."
11:30 am.
All he had left was a note on the kitchen counter scribbled on the back of a sheet of scrap paper. It read 'Don't expect me back.' No signature. No explanation.
All Kisame could see were Itachi's shaking hands.
"You should've seen… he phoned all your stupid little friends to see if they knew where you went; he was worried sick, you ungrateful idiot." Kisame shook his head. "Finally, he mentioned you might be going to some summerhouse that your family used to own that no one lives in a few towns over, so I offered to take a run down."
"But you-"
"There's only one bus route that goes there from Konoha, and only one bus going through today, you know that. It was just luck that I got here before the bus did," he said. "I can't believe you though, kid. Taking off the morning of the day before Christmas…! Do you have any idea what shape that put Itachi in? Do you?"
"Itachi doesn't-"
"Have you been listening to me at all?" Kisame asked loudly, causing Sasuke to flinch. The teen's defences were weakened, the words beginning to sink in and settle. "If your brother wanted to, he could just leave you to Children's Aid and come live on the University Campus with the rest of us. That would save him the drive every day and a lot of work, but no! He insists on staying with you, and working to feed you and clothe you! Why the Hell would he do that if he didn't care about you?"
"I didn't know," Sasuke mumbled, "that he would even…care."
Kisame half-snorted, keeping his eyes on the road. "Well he does. A lot more people care about you then you realize, if only you'd stop pushing everyone away and shutting everyone out."
"That's not true either!"
"Yes it is! Why don't you get it? It's like you're addicted to your own misery or something. Get over it! You're only hurting yourself and everyone who's trying to help you!"
"I didn't know…How could you know anyways? Oh, screw it all," said Sasuke, the edge to his voice waning, and Kisame sighed.
"Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. But it's Christmas. Try to enjoy yourself, okay brat?"
Sasuke leaned his head against the window, watching his breath turn into condensation. His fingertips touched the cold surface of the window aimlessly, water droplets clinging to his skin where it touched glass.
"A lot more people care about you then you realize, if only you'd stop pushing everyone away and shutting everyone out."
'Is that true?'
He began tracing letters in the foggy spot formed by his breath, trying to stay calm and not to let his mind take sides on him.
N-A-R-U-
"Okay, Sasuke?" Kisame asked, peering back at him.
"Yeah, sorry… I was just thinking."
Kisame chuckled. "Well, what a nice change."
o
Gaara's mouth tasted dryly and yet richly of wine as he ran his tongue over his gum to pick up any remnants.
"Kankurou," he said into the darkness of their bedroom.
"Yes?"
"…I like wine."
Snorting laughter erupted in the other bed. "Holy crap! How much did they let you have, anyways?"
"Just a bit," Gaara answered, amused.
"Yeah right…"
Actually, he had had about a glassful, though he had added a citrus-flavoured soda to it at first to weaken the taste. The evening had gone by in a little bit smoother – from his point of view, anyways – from that point on.
Earlier in the week, their caretaker had told them they were going to be spending Christmas Eve with her family. They did not really mind, but the only somewhat dressy clothing the three siblings owned was black, save Temari's white blouse, and Kankurou remarked that it looked like they were going to a funeral of sorts as opposed to Christmas dinner.
At least that comment killed a little bit of the tension.
In reality, the dinner did not turn out that bad. Mariko had a brother who worked in a bank and had a sense of humour to rival Kankurou's own, which provided entertainment between and during Christmas specials on TV. He had two children, a boy Temari's age that was a little full of himself ("A perverted smart-ass;" Temari grumbled, "your typical man), and another son of about ten that insisted on following Gaara around while they waited for dinner to be ready, rambling on about all sorts of things.
"Gaara-nii-san! Gaara-nii-san! Why are your eyes so funny?"
"My eyes are funny, eh?"
"You look like a racoon!"
"Oh, that. It's just eyeliner."
"What's that?"
"You put it on your eyes."
"Why?"
"Because I like it."
"You're weird, Gaara-nii-san. Hey, hey, can you put some of your eye stuff on me? Pleeeeeease?"
Gaara had finally managed to escape the hyperactive child once dinner was ready, as he took a seat between Temari and Kankurou. It was a habit developed over the years, the older two protecting Gaara and answering or providing distractions from any awkward questions. However, they found there were none.
Mariko's parents were sweet old people, hard of hearing and found of giving everyone different coloured socks as gifts. There was a strange balance of the family, between joking, story-telling and earnest conversation, that willingly absorbed the three newcomers. Mariko's father even offered them wine, which Gaara ended up having a bit too much of. It lessened his guard, and before he knew it, he was laughing freely along with the rest of them. Unaware and blissful…
"So what did you think of the family, pipsqueak?' Kankurou asked, rolling over onto his stomach.
Gaara shrugged, then realized it wouldn't be seen. "It was… different. I dunno."
Kankurou nodded, but he was looking at the door. "You can come in, Temari. I know you're there."
The door opened a crack, and coloured spots of light speckled the wall behind Gaara as light from the Christmas tree shone in, disappearing for a second as Temari slipped in, pillow and blanket in hand. She lay the pillow down on the floor in between the two beds, then sat down and wrapped the blanket around her form.
"I liked Mariko-san's family," she whispered. "Not that one cousin, but the rest of them were nice."
"I guess."
"It was different," repeated Gaara, having no other way to put it. "Good different."
"Compared with what happened before, how could it be bad different?" Kankurou asked.
The room was doused in silence.
"This is," Temari started quietly, "our first Christmas without Dad… It feels weird, doesn't it?"
"A little," Kankurou admitted, which, of course, meant 'a lot'.
She nodded. "I mean… it wasn't like this before. I wasn't happy like I am now. Sure, Dad wasn't bad all the time so I miss his good side, but I was always afraid and paranoid, you know? It isn't like that there. They were… just so happy."
"We weren't nearly the family they are," uttered Kankurou lowly.
"I want to be." Temari smiled a little. "I know things won't be easy for any of us… I mean, well, Gaara's having a bit of a rough time with some things, and issues with some people I know are kind of bad, but…"
"Wait," Kankurou interjected. "What things with what people?"
"None of your business."
"Temari."
"I agree with her," said Gaara softly. He had been quiet for a while, staring at the ceiling as his eyelids begged to close. His body hadn't been this eager to go to sleep in a long time…
"Thank you, Gaara," Temari said. "Kankurou?"
"What?"
Temari rolled her eyes. "You know."
"Well… yeah… I guess. Whatever you guys want."
Knowing the translation, Temari smiled. "Anyways… well, I guess that's all I wanted to say. Would you guys mind if I slept here?"
"Why not?" Kankurou yawned, letting his head fall back to his pillow. "Goodnight guys."
"Goodnight, Kankurou. Gaara."
"You too… Merry Christmas."
And as he slipped in sleep, various thoughts and people flitting in his mind's eye (Neji, Kankurou, Temari, Father, Neji), Gaara was smiling.
o
8:00 – Christmas Eve.
The apartment seemed so empty, the spaces between the tiny, artificial Christmas tree in the corner and the other assorted pieces of furniture magnified to a painfully large size. The sound around him seemed muffled, the quiet chattering of the people sitting on the couch across from him and soft crackling of interference on the radio in the kitchen (set on a station that played Christmas music constantly; Sasuke had hated it). But maybe it was just Itachi.
He sat slouched over on one of the chairs he had dragged over from the kitchen, staring rather inattentively at his knees. He had been withdrawn and sullen the entire day, and not in the way he usually was. On his chapped lips, one could see long raw strips where he had peeled off the skin with his teeth from worry.
"…and the damn saleslady thought I was a woman, yeah!" Deidara continued on to fill the awkward void, tossing a piece of silly putty from one hand to the next. "I am never shopping there again!"
Sasori cleared his throat, shooting Deidara a look. The two, along with Kisame, had been invited to spend Christmas Eve at Itachi's, as none of them were very fond of University parties and had nowhere else to be but with friends.
"Look, Itachi-san, I'm sure that-"
Sasori was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Itachi's body jerked up abruptly into sitting position, eyes fixated on the door. His slender fingers clutched at his knees so tightly they shook, muscles taught and mind riddled with a stifling anxiety.
"We're home!" came Kisame's, and two pairs (Itachi almost thought he was hearing things) of footsteps walked in, followed by the closing of the door. The were a few vague noises – something not too heavy being dropped, the rustling of clothing, socks over linoleum – and two figures appeared from around the corner of the small living area.
"Sasuke."
It was odd; the only times Itachi had ever touched Sasuke since the unfortunate death of their parents (and since Sasuke decided that was Itachi's fault), were small, insignificant instances. A brushing of limbs by accident, Itachi's hand on his brother's shoulder in effort of reassurance, Sasuke's hand swatting his away. So it was only natural the younger brother would have no idea how to react when he found his older brother's arms wrapped around his shoulders, Itachi's cheek brushing the side of his head. The first thing he thought of, oddly enough, was how short his brother was. Itachi had always seemed taller to him, somehow, but Sasuke could now see he was quite a bit less than a foot away from reaching his brother's height.
"Itachi…"
"We waited for you," Itachi said quietly, and Sasuke's eye caught the still-wrapped pile of presents sitting by the fake-tree. "I was hoping… I was worried, Sasuke. God."
"I…"
Itachi pulled away just enough so he could look Sasuke straight in the eye. "Don't ever do that again!"
"I'm sorry…" Sasuke leaned into the embrace a little. Realizing.
o
Dated: December 25
Dear Gaara,
Merry Christmas. Again, I wish we weren't so far apart right now… I hope you're doing well. How was that Christmas party Sakura had for all of you? I know that even if you didn't want to go, Naruto and Kiba probably dragged you there; they did that to me last year.
You might have noticed the CD enclosed with this letter. That would be just one part of your present. It's by a fairly successful local band that was playing a show in the club across the street last night, and I thought you might like it. I'm still surprised Hiashi let me go, even with that annoying chaperone stalking me.
In any case, I-
"Neji-nii-san?"
Neji's pen dropped to the desk as he looked up at Hinata, hand shifting slightly as to shield the paper.
"W-we're opening gifts now," she told him demurely, hair mussed from sleep. "Are you coming?"
He nodded, returning her hint of a smile. "I'll be right there."
-I'm enjoying Paris, but can't wait to get home, and see you. I really do miss you, Gaara.
Love,
Neji
End chapter 24