"Sasuke, what are you doing?"
"Nothing."
"Like hell, nothing. Come on, let me see!"
"No."
"Please?"
"No, Tenten."
"Please?"
He rolled his black eyes and resolved to ignore me, continuing to type away at his laptop. I sat back on his bed and huffed loudly, folding my arms, but he barely spared a glance; ever the moody type, as usual.
"You're no fun," I complained, tossing a pillow at him.
He gave me a bland stare. "Rude."
I scowled at him as he lowered his eyes back to the screen. Every once in awhile he would pause in his typing, brow furrowing in thought, before picking back up again. I cupped my chin in my hand and watched him until he raised his eyes once more.
"Are you just gonna stare at me, then?" he asked, arching one slender brow.
I bobbed my head with a cheerful smile. "Uh-huh."
"Creep." He continued working, shaking his head.
The room was silent for a few minutes, save for the clacking of Sasuke's fingers against the keyboard. "So," I spoke up. "How're things with Sakura?"
He let out a long sigh, like the question bore an incredible weight, and pushed the computer away. The look he gave me was one of intense displeasure and I immediately regretted my lack of tact.
"Not good, then," I said, holding my hands up.
He sighed and rubbed at his forehead. "Sorry," he muttered.
I pushed myself to my feet and walked over to stand behind his chair, linking my arms around his shoulders. He leaned back to look up at me, still clearly annoyed, but the lines in his face softened ever so slightly. "Tell me what's going on?" I asked, tapping my fingers gently against his sternum.
For a moment he was quiet. "She thinks that we're too close," he said finally. He closed eyes with a long, heavy sigh.
"Oh." I chewed on my lower lip. "I guess that's a...reasonable concern for a girl to have."
"It's annoying," Sasuke muttered. He shook his head in a sharp movement, raven hair brushing against the skin of my arms. Its blue sheen gleamed beneath the overhead light.
"Hey. But you love her, right?"
He shrugged my arms off and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk. I moved around to his side. Even for Sasuke, this behavior didn't strike me as normal. I looked down at him, furrowing my brow with concern. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and moved his folded hands away from his lips.
"Sasuke, what is it? Talk to me."
He didn't look at me. "Lately, I'm not so sure."
"About loving her?"
"About her in general. About us." He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.
"Well, what happened?" I put an arm around his shoulders and leaned against him. "Come on, spit it out. I'm here for you, you know that."
He rubbed at his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. "I told you. She doesn't like he fact that we're so close."
I blinked a few times. Then the realization hit. "She thinks there's...something between us, doesn't she?"
His lips twitched into a half-smile at the shock in my voice, like the information should not have come as a surprise to me, but it was one of bitterness. "She won't openly say it, but I know that's what she suspects."
"You've got to be kidding." I looked down at myself, at my clothes so drab and worn it was a wonder how they held together. Sakura was nothing short of a goddess by comparison, all pale skin and green eyes and hair that shamed the pink buds of cherry blossoms from which she got her name. But it was true that Sasuke was my best friend, and I certainly couldn't blame the girl for being just a little concerned. Or a lot concerned, it seemed. Sasuke was known for his thick skin, his devil-may-care attitude to match his devilishly handsome looks. When he was bothered, visibly bothered at that, it was a big deal.
"I don't get it, either." He massaged his temples with two fingers, expression pained. Another red flag. "No matter how many times I tell her, she won't listen. She'll get this...look on her face, you know?"
I nodded. I had seen that look, I realized now. The little glances she would cast my way, and the manner in which she would look away when I caught her gaze, like she hadn't meant for me to see them. Or the way she would move a little closer to him whenever I came near, placing a hand on his arm or his shoulder as if to say mine.
Sasuke only shook his head, letting out a long breath through his nose. For a moment we simply stood there, my arm around him and his head bowed forward, long black bangs hiding his face.
"I think," he said hesitantly, after a pregnant pause, "that it'd be best if I kept my distance from you, at least for a little while."
My stomach dropped, and I reflexively took a step back as the words pummeled me like individual blows, almost knocking the wind out of me. Did I hear him right? I found myself folding my arms, like I was trying to hold myself together. I tried to shake the hurt off as I replied, doing my best to keep my tone even, "Yeah, that might be a good idea for you both."
But what about me? I wanted to ask.
He wouldn't look at me. "Yeah," was all he said. He ran his fingers along the edge of his laptop, black eyes far away. Part of me wondered if he thought I was going to put up more of a fight, if he was testing me. I pushed the thought back, appalled that I would even consider for a second that he would manipulate me in such a way. It didn't matter. I was going to support him, even if every cell in my body burned with a resentment I had never experienced before, and never thought I would experience in any capacity toward Sasuke of all people.
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Well, I guess I'd better get going." I grabbed my backpack from his bed and slung it over my shoulder, anxious to escape. The weight in my chest bordered on suffocating, and my eyes stung with the familiar threat of tears. "I'll see you later."
He only nodded, and that was another blow. I left his room without another word. I was halfway down the stairs when I nearly rammed into Itachi, and I had to smother a squeak of surprise. He blinked at me slowly, once, twice, as though trying to register that I was actually there. Sasuke's elder brother always oozed this aura of mystery and intimidation, despite being a relatively soft-spoken man like their father he so closely resembled, all sharp lines. Sasuke's features were more like his mother's, the angular structures touched by delicacy and softness.
"Oh, sorry," I said, pressing myself into the wall to allow him to pass. He inclined his head with a small smile and continued on his way. I followed suit, bidding a brief farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Uchiha, and left the house. For once, I was glad for it.
The air was growing increasingly chilly as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon: fall was on its way. Even now the trees were beginning to show tinges of color as I walked beneath them, their boughs swaying gently in the evening breeze. The leaves rustled together, whispering softly. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
"I think that it'd be best if I kept my distance from you." I opened my eyes again. My heart seemed to tighten in my chest as the words repeated themselves over and over in my mind. I pressed a hand to my sternum, as if I could physically touch the ache and will it away.
As my house came into view, my stomach took on a new feeling of dread. I mounted the front steps and slowly opened the door, the hinges squealing their protest.
"Tenten! You better get your ass in here right now!"
I steeled myself and trudged into the living room, where my father sat in his old armchair with his customary bottle of sake. Drunk as the man was, his hearing had yet to diminish like the rest of him had. Brainless, alcohol-riddled top; thick in the middle; skinny below. I could barely recall what he used to look like.
"Yes, sir?" I struggled to keep my tone light and casual, knowing that he would try his best to accuse me of smart-mouthing if I spoke too loudly, or too slowly.
"Where have you been?" he demanded.
Part of me wondered why he even bothered to ask. It wasn't like he cared. But he was in the mood to fight, so I had no choice but to try to placate him. "At the library," I said, as calmly as I could muster despite the fluttering of my heart in my chest. I could feel a cold sweat creeping its way into my palms and gripped the straps of my backpack tightly, as if they were a lifeline that would pull me away to safety.
He stared at me, or tried to at least; his eyes were unfocused and red at the corners, as though he'd been crying. "Are you sure you weren't running around with that Uchiha boy again?" he said in dangerous tones.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep the fear from entering my voice. "No, Dad," I said. "I was doing my homework."
"Why can't you do your homework here, huh?" He stood up, still keeping a firm grip on his bottle. Some of the liquid sloshed over the rim and dripped onto the floor, adding to the collection of burn-marks and stains. "This house not good enough for you?"
"I...I didn't want to bother you." I could tell this was going south in a hurry, despite my attempts to soothe his visibly rising fury. I tightened my hand around the strap of my bag.
"Stop lying!" The volume of his outburst rattled the glass of the coffee table. He lurched forward a bit and hit the table's edge, spilling more of the sake. This only enraged him further. He launched the bottle at me, but I skirted out of the way and it crashed against the wall instead, splashing the foul liquid in all directions. That was my cue. I bolted for the stairs, mounting them two at a time. His footsteps were close behind, but I sprinted to my room and quickly slammed the door shut, twisting the lock.
"You open this door right now!" he shouted, hitting it with his fists sporadically. "Don't you run away from me when I'm talking to you, you little shit! Open the goddamn door!"
Through the loud banging and name-calling, a soft meow came from beneath my bed. I quickly leaned down and scooped Kohaku into my arms, willing him to be quiet. The last thing my father needed was to find a cat that I wasn't even supposed to have.
"Shh, it'll be over soon," I whispered, scratching the underside of his chin. A few moments later the noise subsided, and I heard the sound of his heavy footfalls receding down the hall to the stairs. Thud. Thud. Thud. I held Kohaku close to my chest as I pressed my ear to the door. I heard the loud clinking of bottles, followed by the volume of the television cranking up.
I let out a sigh and set Kohaku down. "I bet you're hungry, aren't you?"
He pushed himself against my legs, purring. I found myself smiling as I rummaged around in my closet for the bag of cat food. Once he was eating contentedly, I sat on my bed and let my hair down from my buns. For a few moments I only twisted the pins around in my fingers, staring out the window at the gathering night, and thought again of Sasuke. More than anything I wanted to just run back downstairs and out the door, back to his house, to safety. But he couldn't know. No one could. His parents never questioned why I was over there so much. We were best friends, and that was the end of it. Whether I liked it or not, my father was the only person left to provide for me. And I did still love him, through all the layers of rage and hurt and pain within us both, because I remembered the way he used to be. Before my mother left and the bottle claimed what remained of him.
I grabbed my brush off the nightstand and began working the knots from my hair. Kohaku finished his meal and pounced onto the bed. He curled up beside me, his familiar purring rumbling against my thigh, and with my free hand I scratched behind his silky black ears. It had only been a few months since I found him in the bushes outside my house, no collar or tags and looking half-starved. In Sasuke's absence, he was my companion through all of my father's episodes, so long as I was careful to keep him hidden. It was no life for a cat and I knew it, but I couldn't help but be selfish. He seemed to enjoy being with me, and I let that be enough to justify it.
"We'll get out of here soon enough, little man," I murmured to him. "One day." He only blinked his large blue eyes at me, lashing his tail slowly back and forth. I set the brush aside and curled around him, staring at the ceiling until his warm purrs drifted me off to sleep.
When I opened my eyes again, it was one in the morning. My stomach rumbled its discontent. I crept to the door and slowly opened it. I no longer heard the TV, and as I tiptoed toward the stairs I heard my father's snores from beyond his bedroom door. Relieved, I made my way down to the kitchen, fixed myself a sandwich, and snagged a bottled water from the pantry before scurrying back to my room.
"Shh," I said quietly when Kohaku meowed his greeting. I fed him small pieces of the sandwich crust by the light of the moon shining through my window, his eyes glinting like chips of blue steel in the dark. I eyed the clock on my dresser again: 1:12, a little less than six hours before I had to wake up for school. I sighed and took a sip of water. They couldn't pass soon enough.