Warnings: angst. GaaNaru implied. SasuNaru implied. Insanity all around...
Disclaimer: no, I don't own Naruto...
Author's note: if you ever find yourself in Naruto's place, please, please go to a therapist...talk to them. It's not saying you're "weak" by getting help...it isn't, really. Okay? So go, please, if you ever find the need.
...in ten years or so, your therapist might be me.
Burning (oh so) brightly
I opened the door hesitantly. The eyes of all the nurses had set me on edge. Behind me, I felt a brush of warm skin, and I peered into the pale blue room. The change of colors made me nervous—what if Sasuke gets sad…? I immediately felt bad for not coming earlier- despite the nurses telling me over and over, you've got to let him make the transition. Just stay home for a little, all right? Leave it to us!
It's kind of weird, really. While I'm worrying my ass off about that kid, I meet him.
"Hey, Sasuke," I murmur and see him on the bed. There's a mirror on the wall—half covered—and a metal chair for visitors. I think maybe I ought to get an arm chair or something'…wonder if they'd let us paint the walls? Is that too much to ask?
Sasuke turned around. His beautiful Asian eyes stared back at me, and I almost lost it. He's just so god damned innocent. Or is it naivety? I'm never really sure…
I swallow. "Sasuke, this is Gaara…" and my left hand groped for the taller man's arm. I tried to pull him forward, but the read head just stayed put. I guess he's got a reason to be outta sorts…I'm willing to bet most of his other—if there were any 'sides me—partners hadn't driven previous flings nuts.
…kinda annoying, really…having to make these two meet…
I think Gaara's a good guy. He's…kinda over protective. Kinda moody. He's got a dad who could rival Sasuke's evil parents in abusive behavior. I mean, who the hell would tattoo the character for "love" on their kid's forehead and then tell 'em that nobody could ever love the same kid?
Parents are truly complete freaks. Insane, incompetent freaks.
Gaara looked at me. His green eyes were cold and calm as Sasuke's were…a long time ago. "This is him?" he asked tonelessly. I'm not sure if he's jealous o' Sasuke or not…
…it's not like I ever talk about him.
Really.
I nodded and grinned one of my trademark grins. Sasuke smiled meekly, and he padded forward on bare feet. Pit, pat, pitta padd. His footsteps are so soft…different from the squeak and swish from my sneakers, different from Sasuke's mother's high heeled click, crick, clap. Different from the barely audible tnn, dnnn…of Gaara's soft shoes.
Sasuke looks at me. He looks at Gaara and walks past me to press into stoic Gaara's personal space. He smirks—more of a tight smile than a smirk—a little and I wonder if he could possibly have remembered a little.
What it feels like to be with me and not next to me. What it feels like to kiss…not to be apart. My head burns with feeling
—but not with hope—
And I wonder if he cares.
I'm…with Gaara…
It's kinda funny, how it works like that…
I wait. Wanna see Sasuke claim me as his—even though that annoys the shit outta me—and…watch.
Sasuke presses closer, his soft chin almost on Gaara's neck, and I realize he's a lot smaller than I'd always thought. He's bringing his hands up and looking oh so delicate as he touches Gaara's pale face.
He laughs, quietly.
And he tugs sharply on a piece of Gaara's hair—
The redhead grabs his hand. Pushes Sasuke back.
But he does it gently.
He's so different from the Gaara I met…but he's still the same, too…still Gaara. Self-absorbed prick who gets blood crazy and barely says anything.
I remember, all too easily…I remember seeing him in the darkness and finding his cold eyes fastened on me. I was going home…leaving work by myself and crossing the street to get a drink from the convenience store. Heedless of cars, I made my way easily and waved to the cashier as I walked in.
He followed me back—silent shadow—to my side of the street. Just walked after e, his footfalls in time with mine so as to keep me from noticing him…but I did.
I might not have Uchiha vision, but I can tell when some kid's following me…
I stopped, turned around quickly and ran towards him, one hand pulled back. He just let me hit him.
There was a tiny smile on his face, and I land a blow that shoulda shattered the fine bones in his face…but didn't.
Gaara barely flinched, barely noticed my presence, and I realized my hand'd stopped a millimeter before it connected.
My eyes closed for a second, and I felt like I was choking.
But it'll take a hell lot more than mind games to make me helpless.
What the fuck's your problem! I screamed, and his sea green eyes widen.
That's when I realized his eyes were surrounded with coal black shadows…when I noticed how creepily insane he looks…
Now, Sasuke's peering at his fingers, clutching at a long strand of hair the color of drying blood. He seems happy with his new toy, and I want to scream at both of 'em. Wanna cry 'cause I dunno what I feel anymore.
It kinda sucks. It really and truly makes me wanna curl up in a ball like I've seen Sasuke do so many times and rock back and forth 'till
the dark
takes
me
away. But that'd just scare everybody, and then who'd be there to help Sasuke find himself? Who'd be there to help Gaara adjust himself to a leader's role—'cause he sure as hell's gonna get that envoy assignment if I can do anything.
His pissy dad's gone—convicted for illegal drug abuse as well as maltreatment of minors. I can't help but smirk at the thought.
One down. Two more evil parents to go…
Gaara looks at me now and gestures vaguely towards Sasuke. The kid's sat down, staring vaguely at the ceiling sleepily when know he's fighting off demons of his own…
…my Sasuke…
…he's just a kid, now…
It took a while for me 'n Gaara to get on civil terms to talk. That first night, we fought…or I did, anyway. Hell knows I've got enough pent up feelings to put up a good fight.
Y'know what's weird, though?
For all my cursing and vibrant feeling, the only thing Gaara did was stare, smile a little, and look God. Damned. Cocky.
…reminds me of another prickish bastard I happen ta like…
Though maybe I'm the only guy who reads anything from "creepy Gaara."
…he doesn't look near so peaceful when you manage to knock heads together…
…he looks creepy as…I dunno.
Fate.
It's…weird…watching Sasuke…him watching us. For a second, if I close my eyes, it's like he's…normal. I spin around, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Gaara seems surprised—I think I hear him cough in surprise—and Sasuke just watches me go.
Doesn't say anything.
And—God damn it—my head hurts.
The spot where there's a little dip between your skull and your spine…if you press hard enough there, it feels like you might split your head open. If you press just the right spot, the pressure cools…the headache abates.
So I'm clutching at my head, clutching at my neck and half-running out of there.
All I want…
…all I want is for everything…
everything
to be
normal
again. But it won't be, can't be, and I like Gaara. I really do. So everything has to happen the way it should, and everything has to be the way it's supposed to be and I'm not meant to be with my best friend. I'm not meant to be happy
with him.
So I escape the blue walls and the calm, serene atmosphere so different from the minors' ward. No bright colors. Nurses don't wear quite as colorful uniforms…even the secretary's different.
Treatment's probably different. Doctors, different. Appointments are harder to make—or is that just my perception?—and none of the nurses like me as much.
I hate it.
I just want Sasuke.
I give my visitor's pass to the secretary, mumbling something along the lines of 'things to do.' I know she can see my red face, I know she's probably noticed my 'irregular breathing' as the doctors say, acknowledged my too tight hands around my neck…she probably can recognize a
fit
when she sees one. But I'm just sad, just hurt, not crazy. That's easy enough to see…easy enough to understand. Right? It's just the damned headache…
I hate it.
hate it.
So I just keep walking out the hospital with Gaara doing who knows what—following me out, or talking to Sasuke?—and I keep walking.
At least the outside of the hospital hasn't changed. That much's a blessing…I start when I see a familiar form on the bench—the same one Sasuke and I've occupied so many times—and I freeze.
Try to smile, reluctantly pull my hands to my side.
"Sakura," I say, and she looks up—but she was watching me from before, I know it—and her smile is gentle. Kind.
"Naruto." She greets, a tiny smile on her face.
I made as if to touch my neck—to try an' quell the tension—but thought better of it. My body felt so heavy…like the blood was collecting at the bottom of each muscle—each one a compartment in itself—and pulling me down.
"Why don't you sit down?" her voice is soft. Smooth and nice…like she is, herself. I couldn't help but relax.
I nodded and moved beside her—only on the opposite side of the bench. I winced when I sat down. It'd rained sometime today, the bench's still wet and it seeped into my pants.
…seems awfully cold for the end of July.
Sakura sighed a little. "What's up, Naruto?" I never realized before how often she says my name. It's like she doesn't wanna forget who she's talking to…or maybe doesn't want me to forget…
"Noting." I say with a huge, dazzling smile. Lotsa people—girls, especially—say that they can forget I'm a 'working class poor kid with no education' when I smile. They say it's like seeing a burst of sunshine.
..but that's Sasuke smiling. Not me.
Sakura stifles a sigh—holding it against her breast—and looks through the sunshine to see the stars. She just looks and says, "I thought I'd find you here."
"Yeah?" I tense.
"…yeah." She's watching the grass now.
I fidget, uncomfortable. Grasping for something that'll get through to both of us. "…Sasuke's seems to be getting along fine in the new ward…" I murmur, and swing my feet to the side of the bench—now I don't hafta look at anything but the dark, cloudy earth. "His room's blue though. God knows why they'd paint it that color in the first place, of all the choices…I mean—"
Sakura cleared her throat. "Naruto, you're doing it again."
The words die in my throat. Hide behind open lips. "Huh?"
"…every time I talk to you, the only thing I ever hear about is Sasuke." There was hurt in her voice, and I almost cringe. "Don't you ever think about anything else? Like you, for instance?" she leaned forward, persistent as ever on a stupid subject.
I sigh. "Sakura, I do so talk 'bout other stuff…" I bit my lip. "I was telling you about Gaara the other day—"
Her eyes are sad. Suddenly I remember that she used to hate Sasuke 'n me being together…used to snap and grit her teeth and look like she was always ready to shout. Like she was gonna cry.
…how'd we become friends?
"Naruto," she sighs and presses her lips into a firm line. I fidget, and try to remember when I turned around.
When I started to look at Sakura.
"Why are you with Gaara?"
I freeze. "Wha d'ya—"
"Do you really like him?" her eyes are clear. Like a candle, burning brightly in the darkness. "'Cause if you like him the way you do Sasuke, it's fine but—"
My hands are white. "Sakura. It's none of your business why I'm with anyone, all right?" I snap.
She looks alarmed, then irritated. "Naruto, you have every right to say that! But I'm asking you 'cause I want you to think about it. Because you need the answer more than I do." She stands up, brushing invisible dirt from her soft, blue dress.
Blue.
I stare. Wanna run. Don't wanna
hear
what she says next. She says, "Naruto, you talk to me about Sasuke's treatment all the time…I think maybe you can take a lesson from him. I think you should talk to someone.
"Talk to a therapist."
I'm on my feet now—my thin pants stick to the back of my legs, and I feel the heat coming to my face from the shame. "I don't need a fucking therapist!" I growl.
Not this shit again.
I don't need this…
"I'm not.
"fucking
"crazy!"
She just stares at me and I'm running so fast, running past her and Gaara. I fall on the grass—damned holes in too many places—and curse loudly. Can't think, humiliated. Wet. Cold.
She wants me to see a shrink.
Wants me to admit I can't handle it—can't handle life. Can't handle my boyfriend—
—and I gotta wonder…who does come ta mind when I say that?
Say 'boyfriend.'
Dark eyes. Dark hair. That's not
green and red and cream colored honey—no, it's the other way…honey colored cream not cream colored honey—skin. Skin so like his…
shit. shit. shit.
fuck.
What the fuck's a guy supposed to do? What's a guy to think? Say?
Itachi told me once, when I was spending the night with Sasuke to finish a project. He told me that you can't do everything. He said he tried to do just that, once. But not even Itachi could do it. I believed his words, but not his
eyes.
Fuck.
What am I supposed to do?
tbc...eventually.
