Title: Waste of Breath

Author: Kina-chan

Pairing: ZabuSasu (Yes, I said ZabuSasu), slight LeeSaku

Warning: ('tis a surprise)

Chapter Rating: R (Maybe NC-17?)

Word Count: 3,650

Summary: Sasuke is the lead singer to hit rock band, Okami Yokai. When Naruto and the gang win free tickets to see their next show, what will arise?

AU: So no, I didn't forget about this story, I've just been busy! And yes, I'm sorry for making everyone wait.
Hikarikurai24587:The many "Update"s are flattering, but I kinda got a headache counting them all. –chuckles- But, I do love enthusiastic reviewers.
Uchiha-gal18: Heh, heh. What a coincidence indeed. I have two Linkin Park CDs… so, I guess I would be the Sakura and Ino when it comes to them. XP Not the Haku though… I don't even know if Hakus would be allowed in the same city when the band was in town… shrugs Oh well. Oh, and I'm dieing to do NaruSasu myself. I'm going through withdrawals of not being able to write it! But then again I also go through and --/Sasu withdrawals when I'm writing. XP I'm just a sucker for SasUKE. And as far as the Itachi comment… -grins- you'll just have to wait and see. And since I'm sure quite a few readers are like you, I'm making at least half of this chapter Sasuke's POV… I'm going through Sasuke withdrawals man!
But… without further ado, here's chapter 3!

Chapter 3
(Sasuke's POV)

The alarm clock goes off and one of our new songs is playing. I'm not asleep; it seems like I never sleep when we're on tour. Not that we're on tour now… but we are preparing for the upcoming gig in Konoha. I don't want to go there. It's my hometown… where I lived until I was nine when the man taking care of took me from the town.

"Sasuke! Get your lazy ass up! I don't care how much you like hearing your own voice; people are trying to sleep!"

Snorting, I roll over and hit the snooze button on my alarm clock; I won't be here when it goes back off anyways. I wipe the sleep –I hate that it gets there even when you don't sleep– from my eyes and climb out of bed. I have no problems with my bed, that's not why I can never sleep. The psychiatrists, or therapists, or whoever in the hell they take me to say I have slight insomnia; gee… wonder why?

I drag my feet over to a closet and pull out a track outfit, a wig, and contacts. The same procedure for any time I want to leave the house without people stalking me for autographs or whatever. I pull the outfit on, cause I only ever sleep in boxers –or sometimes nothing at all -, before walking over to the vanity in my room. Yes, vanity. I have a fucking vanity in my room. I think everyone would pay for a sex-change if they knew I wouldn't kill them for it.

My reflection isn't pretty. The shadows under my eyes look like I took black eye shadow to them and my skin looks almost translucent. Upon closer inspection I see something that makes me grin –and would make my producer/guardian/whatever-in-the-hell-he-wants-to-be scream– you wouldn't really have to look too hard to see it, I'm just so groggy. I have a zit… and it makes me want to cheer.

The words always breathing down my face are about my looks: "It doesn't matter how popular your voice is; it's your body that's the temple", "A singer's face is his lifeline; without it you'd be dead", and all that shit. So of course, I'm thrilled to be rebellious by having a zit.

My fingers itch to pop it – really, everyone would have a heart attack if I had a red dot on my face – but I refrain; I give everyone enough heart attacks with my bad habits as it is.

Sighing I pull my hair up and pin it to my scalp before slipping the wig on. The red hair, that looks real but I know isn't, cascades down to my shoulder blades… it looks like my head's on fire. I snort at my own wit before carefully placing the blue contacts into my eyes. I tilt my head back and let my eyes adjust to the feel of the contacts before lowering it and staring at my reflection. Instead of obsidian eyes staring back at me I see sapphire blue; instead of raven locks cascading past my shoulders I see flaming red; I'm disgusted.

I grab my billfold and sneak out of my room and out the back door. I'm just reaching the small alley behind our house when I hear screaming and yelling. Smirking I mentally pat myself on the back for pressing the snooze button on my alarm clock; serves the bastards right.

I walk briskly until I'm farther away from the house. The park is right across the street, yet I can smell the polluted air of the city instead of the crisp and clean scent the park tries to create. I crouch down and stretch out my legs. I've learned from experience that not stretching before jogging or running result in sore limbs and a lot of pain.

When I feel the blood in my body warm and circulate throughout easier I deem myself properly stretched and start jogging. At this early in the morning, when the sun isn't really even up breaking the horizon yet, not many people are out on the sidewalks. I like it better this way. I'm naturally an antisocial person, so I hate it when I'm stopped by other joggers and runners when they marvel why I'm up so early and why I haven't even broken a slight sweat yet.

Pathetic. That's the only work I can think of to describe this city and its people. I steer clear from the parks when I go out to jog because, even if the police say they try to keep them empty, there are always some hobo sleeping on a bench or some drunk passed out on the grass. I hate those people. I hate the people of this city. I hate people in general.

An hour, or longer, into my jog, which has turned into more of a run now, I enter the 'bad' part of the city. I'm not ashamed to say I know this part of the city quite well. Not only is this where I usually take stops at when jogging or running, it seems I'm in this part of the city whenever I have any spare time in general.

Why is it called the 'bad' part of town? Simple; you can't pass an alley without clutching your back pocket or purse to keep your wallet safe, you can't go a few feet without seeing a drunk or druggie littering the sidewalk, you can't pass a corner without some prostitute hanging over your shoulder promising a good time. Yes… I know this part of the city quite well.

Whenever I'm free, or even when I'm not and just want to be defiant, I come down here. There's always different reason for why I come here. Sometimes it's just to blend in with the other troubled people, sometimes it's to get drugged –because really, drug dealers don't care how old you are as long as you're buying-, and then sometimes to just get my brains screwed out –quite literally.

I can't pass a street without recalling a time when I was passed out on the sidewalk, or when I got so high I though I was seeing God, or even the few times I was fucked right into the buildings –really, some people can be quite the exhibitionist.

I slow down my run into a jog, into a walk, and then into a slow saunter. I feel the eyes on me; feel them calculating me, peering beneath my clothes, and lastly feel them practically burning me with their lust. I enjoy this feeling, this sort of high when I know I hold such power just by passing people. I don't have to sway my hips to have people imaging how it'd feel to be touching; I don't have to meet their eyes for them imaging the excitement of me spreading my legs; I don't have to hold a weapon for them to imagine if they'd try to do anything without my consent I'd fucking kill them. Yet I do it anyway. I let my hips sway to music only I can hear, I let my gaze catch theirs in mock innocence and let a coy smile grace my lips. And I can practically hear them panting.

It's a drug all on its own, to know how much power I hold over the people that see me, but that's not the high I'm currently searching for. I turn down an alley and put extra sway to my hips as I saunter to the dealers. I see some pathetic soul on their knees begging the dealer for something to erase their mind and I see the disgusted look of the dealer's face when they're not handed money.

Feeling slightly generous –which is something quite rare– I crouch down next to the pathetic fool and place a hand on his back. His eyes meet mine and I can practically hear me in his fantasy moaning and screaming; I can't help mentally smirking.

I pull out my billfold and pull out a couple twenty dollar bills before setting them in his dirty hands. "Here," I make sure my voice is dripping sexuality like honey, "it's not much, but maybe you can buy something cheaper elsewhere."

He stares at me, and I would swear he's drooling, before he nods and stumbles off, practically tripping to keep staring at me.

When I stand I feel a hand rest on my hip, a little too close to my ass but I let it slide –even drug dealers have desires. "You shouldn't do that."

I turn around, the guy's hand now firmly gripping my backside, and place a hand on his chest. "It's fine. Would you rather him sticking around and slowing business?" I feel that slight jerk of his hand as he contemplates pulling me closer, so I do it for him. I step closer so that I'm practically meshed against him and lay my chin on his bicep –he's taller then me, yet it seems most people are– and keep my smirk hidden when I feel a hardness pressing into my navel. "Don't you want my help Momochi-san?"

I know this drug dealer well. In my opinion, he gives out the best drugs but they're more expensive because of that. I've been in this city for six years and have known this man for three of them. He's eight years my senior, but I still let him fuck me and because of that, I can usually get away with a discount.

He growls slightly and the hand on me tightens its grip. "That's not what I mean Uchiha. You might as well be wearing nothing the way you present yourself."

I can't help but pout. "You shouldn't be saying my name." I lean up onto my tiptoes to breath against the nape of his neck. "You know how much trouble I can get into. And what would you do without your most loyal customer, ay, Zabuza?"

The man grumbles something that sounds like brat. "What do you want today?"

I grin and bring my hand up to pull down the collar of his shirt. Without the material of his shirt in the way I can see his skin, and I take that to my advantage. Letting my tongue run over his collar bone, I hum in contemplation; I don't fail to feel him shudder. "Got anything new?"

Zabuza growls slightly and spins around to push me up against the wall of the building behind us, cutting an abrupt halt to my licking. "Don't fuck with me gaki, you won't like the outcome."

I involuntarily shudder. I had come for drugs, but I was beginning to think I'd rather have this man fuck me. I smile coyly and turn my head to kiss his arm, nipping at the flesh presented to me while I lock my gaze with his clouded one; I'd be an idiot to not know what his eyes are clouded with. "But you fuck with me so much already… and we both always love the outcome." I grin when he shudders.

He glares at me. "You know what I mean."

I'm getting aroused, I can feel it and I practically whimper when he steps closer so that I'm sandwiched between him and the wall. I let out a shaky breath and bring one of my legs up to wrap around his waist while placing both arms around his neck. "And you know what I mean."

That's all it takes. He grips the wig from my head and pulls it off roughly, causing my real hair to fall onto my shoulders. He moves both his hands to my waist and jerks me towards his own hips, causing me to moan. Yanking my hair, he gets me to turn my head and then bites into my neck; he's already panting. "Don't expect me to be gentle."

"I never do."

He unzips my jacket and I close my eyes. I'm such a whore.

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(Konoha, Normal POV)

Cerulean blue eyes stare up at the clock, watching the seconds tick away with irritation.

"By about one million years ago, australopithecines had disappeared as new species of hominids possessing greater intelligence evolved and displaced their predecessors. The new species belonged to the genus Homo and thus represented creatures considerably different from the australopithecines. Most important of them was Homo erectus-"

There's snickering from somewhere in the back of the room. "Someone's getting a 'homo erectus' as we speak."

The class bursts out in a fit of giggles and laughter while the teacher tries to get everyone's attention again.

"Tch, how troublesome."

Naruto looks to his side to see the same annoyed expression on Shikamaru's face. "Not troublesome Shikamaru… juvenile."

Before the teacher can get back everyone's attention, the bell rings and students file out of the room as if it were on fire. The only one's remaining are Naruto, Shikamaru, and Kiba.

Shikamaru lazily puts his books back into his bag. "Man… what a drag. I can just hear the girls near."

Naruto chuckles slightly. "Yeah; they've been more hyper then usual for the past two weeks."

The Nara male groans and looks to Kiba. "When do those damn results come in for those tickets? I have a feeling we won't hear the end of this until that stupid band comes to town."

"They're not that bad."

Two pairs of eyes stare the blond as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

Naruto frowns. "What? They're not."

The three of them walk out of the class head to the front of the school where they're to meet up with everyone else. The trio isn't surprised when they're ambushed by blond, pink, and dark hair.

"What took you so long?!" Haku screeches.

Naruto laughs while Shikamaru rolls his eyes.

The blond looks over his shoulder, since Haku is draped over his back, and grins. "Sorry Haku-hime, but high school doesn't get out as early as college."

Haku pouts slightly. "Yeah? Well college doesn't really get out that early, my class just ends early."

"Hey Kiba!"

Said teen groans as he's surrounded by three teens, feeling very much like the prey of the watchful vultures. "What?"

Ino and Haku hang off his shoulders while Sakura squirms in front of him. "When do we find out if we won or not?!"

Kiba groans, having already been asked this many times over the past week. "I've told you guys all week; the answer is sometime before the end of this week... you should get a call or something if you win, I think."

Sakura nods and she and Ino and Haku press their heads together. "So… the end of the week is in what… two days?"

Ino nods. "Yeah… and then the concert is what… Saturday?"

Haku stares at his hands, his fingers working to calculate the given information. "So… if the end of the week is in two days, and the concert is on Saturday, then…" he grins suddenly and his shoulders shake. "Which means… the concert is in three days!"

All three squeal in excitement.

Shikamaru presses a hand to his forehead and groans. "Good God… would you three shut up?! I have a headache!"

"So… you heard anything yet?"

Sakura growls. "If you're going to ye-"

Shikamaru slaps a hand over the pink-haired girl's mouth. "Quiet, I think that might be one of the sempai."

The small group sneaks to the side of the building and peak around the corner to see a blond, a redhead, and a teen with unnatural-looking skin.

Kiba squints and then his mouth forms an "o". "That's the seniors Deidara, Sasori, and Kisame… why are they still here?"

Shikamaru turns to snap at him to shut up when someone speaks.

"So… have you?" The blond, Deidara, asks, swiping his bang behind his ear.

The bluish-haired man, Kisame, slumps against the wall. "Yeah, he called me last night."

"So…" the redhead, Sasori, says with annoyance apparent in his voice. "What did he say; you know I hate it when you drawl these things out."

Kisame laughs. "Yes, All Mighty He-Who-Hates-To-Wait-And-Hates-To-Leave-Other's-Waiting, I was getting to that. He said that they're coming in this weekend."

"With the band coming in?" Deidara asks in confusion.

Sasori sighs. "Well, the lead singer is his younger brother."

Kisame lets out a loud chortle. "Yep! So… the plan will go a-"

"We should finish this conversation somewhere else."

"Why is that Saso-chan?" Deidara asks.

"Because someone's eavesdropping."

The small group of teens quickly turns around and run to their cars.

Sakura grasps at her chest and gasps. "What were they talking about?"

"I don't know." Shikamaru says, "But we should probably leave before they find out who were eavesdropping."

The group nod and each get into their designated car.

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Lee hands out glasses of non-sweetened tea, the glass sweating perspiration down its sides. The traditional bowl-cut is askew from where Sakura jumped onto his shoulders and he takes a seat next to her, placing a hand chastely on her knee.

Ino frowns, draped over the side of Shikamaru's chair. "I wish that Sasori guy wouldn't have interrupted."

Sakura nods, a little worriedly. "Yeah… I doubt whatever plan they were talking about is anything good."

Shikamaru sighs. "Whatever they were talking about has to do with the band coming in this weekend." He glances as Ino, Sakura, and Haku wring their hands nervously. "And whoever called Kisame is the lead singer of Okami Yokai's older brother."

All eyes stare at Haku.

The brunette has his eyes closed, brows knitted together, and shoulders hunched over. A second later he's sitting with his back so straight it looks like a vertical line. "Sasuke-chan's older brother is Itachi Uchiha!"

Naruto frowns. "Itachi?"

Haku nods. "Yeah… he's the one wh-wh-who… oh my God." His eyes widen. "I hope Itachi isn't in that group that's coming."

"Why is that?" Sakura asks.

Haku growls and quickly stands to his feet. "Why?!" He practically screams at the pink-haired girl, causing her to go back into the chair in fright. "Itachi Uchiha… Itachi. Uchiha. The guy who killed his own family because he felt like it! The guy who ra-" He stops and his mouth snaps shut quicker then it had opened.

Ino frowns. "Who ra-?"

Haku's body is rigid and his eyes look to the ground, practically burning a hole in the tacky carpet of Lee's apartment. "It's nothing." He snaps. He looks around and grabs up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, before walking to the door. "I'm leaving."

Sakura and Ino stand to stop him when the phone rings.

Lee blushes and picks up the phone, glancing worriedly to the blond female and his girlfriend trying to keep the brunette in the apartment. "Hello?" He listens for a moment before placing his hand over the mouth piece. "Sakura?"

"What?!" His girlfriend snarls, glaring at Lee for disturbing her pleading to keep Haku in the cramped apartment.

Lee stares a moment before clearing his throat. "Ah… someone's on the phone for you."

The pink-haired girl throws her hands up into the air and practically stomps to her boyfriend's side to snatch the phone. "Hello?" Sakura's tone doesn't feign her annoyance. The room is silent, save for Ino and Naruto, who took over Sakura's position, pleading Haku to not leave. "Oh my God." Now the room is completely silent. "So… you're serious right, I mean, this isn't some kinda scam? You're not going to say, 'gotcha' and then hang up?" Her eyes widen and she clutches at Lee's arm, the other teen wincing at his girlfriend's strength. "Th-thank you."

When Sakura hangs up the phone, Ino walks up to her and places a hand on her shoulder. "Sakura… is everything okay?"

Emerald eyes are wide when they look to Ino and then Sakura lets out a blood curdling scream.

Haku drops his bag and dashes next to the girl.

With Haku and Ino hanging over her shoulder, Sakura screams again and starts jumping from foot to foot. "I won!"

The two teens blink. "You won?"

Sakura grabs both of their hands in her own and smiles to the point where the muscles in her face ache. "I won the backstage tickets to the Okami Yokai concert!"

The room is silent and then the whole apartment complex probably hears the next bout of screaming.