Yay, second chapter! Yes, I decided to go on with this fic. I have plans……mwahaha! Well, anyway, this one's a bit shorter than the first, but the first chapter was incredibly long, I think. Anyways, read!
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The next days of school were hectic ones. Now that Kisame had been there for a week or so, the teachers expected him to function as a student who had been there the entire year would. And, the fact that the end of the semester was coming up didn't exactly help, either.
His classes were an unnecessary blur to him. How many times could a teacher explain what an onomatopoeia was, or how fast an F3 tornado's winds were? Frankly, both the repetition and the facts bored Kisame.
Itachi didn't talk much after the first few days that Kisame had gone to the school. At lunch, he mostly studied in his free time, which Kisame would have admired had it not been impossible for someone to not pick up all the stuff that was repeated during class.
Itachi also yawned more, and the bags under his eyes grew. He had also bailed on Kisame's 'manicure,' saying he had family issues to attend to. Kisame wouldn't have minded this (hey, family's family), but he had noticed that Itachi had taken off his own beloved purple nail polish.
Dude, what is up with Itachi? he asked himself, while looking at the boy from across the room in reading. How hard has he been studying? Constant all-nighters are NOT good for one's sleeping patterns.
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On the last day of the semester (a Friday), Kisame confronted Itachi at his locker at the end of the day.
"Okay, what gives?" he asked firmly. "You've been studying like crazy, and I know you haven't been sleeping enough, not to mention the lack of purple nail polish. Something's gotta be up," Kisame finished, as Itachi closed his locker door.
"It's nothing, Kisame, the black-haired kid replied. "Really, can't I study if I need to and keep my nails uncolored if I want? And, for your information, I've been going to bed early."
"Yeah, I'll believe that when hell freezes over," Kisame retorted.
"Kisame, I'M FINE. Seriously, perfectly fine. I think you're the one who's stressed here-"
"I never said you were STRESSED, only that you hadn't-"
Itachi grunted, cutting Kisame off. "Yes, but sleep deprivation and such are signs of stress. Like I said, you're probably just paranoid because of the whole new school thing. Trust me, by Monday, I'll look totally normal to you," he said, turning his back and walking away.
I am NOT paranoid, Kisame thought, but maybe he will look better on Monday. A weekend's vacation can do a person wonders. Then, another notion occurred to him. Why am I so worried about Itachi? he asked himself. I guess he's just growing on me.
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That night, Kisame stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom. Slowly, he reached for the knot on the back of his head and unraveled it, letting the bandages fall down onto his shoulders.
Sighing, he ran his index and middle fingers across his cheeks and over his V-shaped scars. The same scars that his father had carved into his face. Some things just don't go away, he said to himself. Scars of the past? How poetic.
Kisame's train of thought was interrupted by his doorbell. Wondering who it could be, he went to answer it.
Opening the door, he was surprised to see Itachi standing across from him. "Itachi? What are you doing here?" he asked, confused.
Itachi's eyes were downcast. "Is this a bad time? I could come back later, if you want…" he said, trailing off.
"No, you're fine," Kisame replied, opening the door further. "Come on in; I promise I don't bite."
Itachi accepted the weirdly worded invitation, entering the house.
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"So, you live here by yourself?" Itachi asked, looking around the living room.
"Yup. Totally independent."
Itachi nodded, as he picked up a framed picture from the mantle. In it, there were three people at the beach- a tall, brown-haired man with a shell necklace, a slightly shorter woman with blue hair like Kisame's, and a small boy (who also had blue hair) looking up at the man, beaming. "Who's in the picture?" the black-haired kid asked.
Kisame involuntarily smiled. "Oh, that's my dad, my mom, and me," he said in a calm voice. "We went to Myrtle Beach the one summer. It's a shame I only remember the car ride home."
Itachi eyes softened. "You look pretty happy there," he said distantly.
"Yeah. I guess I was."
"Do you miss them?" Itachi asked after a period of silence.
"Hn?"
"Do you ever miss them? Your parents, I mean," he repeated quietly.
"Oh, my dad's still around," Kisame replied.
"Oh." Itachi placed the photo back where he had found it. "Do you ever get to see him?"
Kisame shrugged. "Sometimes," he said, "but not that often."
Itachi plopped himself down on the couch. "That sucks."
Kisame sat down next to Itachi. "No, not really," he assured. "Whenever I see him, I always end up moving."
"Oh. How come?" he asked, pulling a bottle of dark teal nail polish out of a pocket in his cargo pants.
Kisame shrugged. "Reasons." He's breaking his promise……he thought irritably.
"Okay, then."
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"Kisame, sprawl your fingers out like this," Itachi directed, showing Kisame his stretched-out hand pressed down onto the coffee table.
Kisame imitated Itachi with both of his hands. "How long is this going to take?" he asked nervously.
Itachi looked up at Kisame. "If you cooperate, about 45 minutes." He opened the nail polish bottle. "And it might help if you sit down."
Kisame obliged, and Itachi got to work. "The reason it takes so long," he explained, "is because you have to put on at least three coats, not including the base and top coats." He blinked. "But since you're so reluctant to do this, we'll skip the top and base coats."
Kisame didn't quite understand, but he nodded anyway. "Oh…" he said uncertainly.
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After a few minutes, it had gotten extremely quiet. Desperate to break the creepy silence, Kisame posed a question. "So, Itachi," he started, "now that you know about my family, what about yours?"
Itachi had begun the second coat while answering. "Well," he said, "I have a dad, a mom, and a little brother. My mom dotes on us, my dad's almost never home, and my little brother hates me." He blinked again. "Kisame, go like this," he told, loosely shaking his wrists, but keeping his fingers splayed. "It'll help it dry faster."
Kisame mimicked what Itachi was doing. "So, what does your dad do that makes him never be home?"
Itachi shrugged. "I don't really know," he replied.
"Is that why you didn't come over when you were supposed to? Because your dad came home for once?"
The other boy nodded. "Yeah.
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After he had finished with the third coat, Itachi got up to leave. "Sorry," he apologized, "but if I'm not home in a few minutes, my mom will have my upper body."
"Don't you mean she'll have your head?"
"No, she'll be so mad, she'll want my torso and arms, too," he explained.
Kisame laughed. "Okay, see ya Monday," he said, waving goodbye.
But, as Itachi was walking through the doorway, he stopped. "Oh, and Kisame," he started, "what happened to your face?"
Oh, shit, the blue boy thought. I forgot to put the bandages back on before answering the door! "Uh, what do you mean?" he asked, as innocently as he could.
"You know," Itachi started, "the scars on your cheeks."
Kisame let out a grunt. Shit. "Well, erm…"
"No, wait, never mind," the other kid said. "I just remembered that promise. Sorry." He continued out the door. "And, don't worry," he called, "Your secret's safe with me!"
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At school on Monday, the walls and lockers were decorated with posters supporting the school teams. Cheerleaders trotted down the halls, obnoxiously chanting all the while. What the hell? Kisame thought. Are we going to the Superbowl or something? Heading to homeroom, he saw that almost everyone was getting into the spirit. Guess everyone here's a sports junkie.
Even homeroom was energized. People were chatting, laughing, and chanting. Except for Itachi. Thank God, someone sane, Kisame thought, sitting in his usual seat.
"What's everyone so happy about?" he asked the black-haired kid sitting next to him.
Itachi looked over to Kisame. "On Friday, we're having the first basketball game of the season against our rival school," he replied. "Everyone gets hyped up for it." He began flipping through his assignment book. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about that…"
Just then, a thin, scary teacher walked into the room. "Settle down! I need to take attendance."
"Later," Itachi promised.
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Later came during first period art class. Since the two boys sat across from each other, it was easy for them to commune.
"So, Itachi, what did you want to ask me back in homeroom?" Kisame asked, glopping some paint onto a small canvas in front of him.
"Oh, yeah. It was about the basketball game," Itachi reminded himself, adding some black to the red paint he was using. "Do you normally go to these school sports things?"
Kisame shook his head. "No," he replied in a strong voice. He's asking too many questions again… "I never really got into them."
"Well, do you want to start?"
"What?"
Itachi took a breath. "Look, I know these guys, and I really want you to meet them. They go to that rival school I mentioned earlier, and I recently got an email from one of them asking if I was going to the game or not. I haven't replied yet, and I was wondering if you would want to meet them." He began to meticulously paint his canvas. "If not, then I won't go either."
So, in other words, you're asking me out, Kisame commented to himself. "So, what are these 'guys' like? Are there a lot of them?"
Itachi shook his head. "Only two," he said holding up two fingers. "One of them's quiet, and likes to make rude remarks, and the other is like Rachel Ray on sugar, coffee, and allergy medicine that literally makes you bounce off walls. No worries, though- they're both pretty cool."
Kisame nodded. Why not? "What the hell? Sure, I'll go," he answered.
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((Smiles)) Betcha you can guess who the two 'guys' are. And if you can't, it means I'm not as predictable as I think I am. Oh well.
Reviews make Itachi feel warm and fuzzy inside.