You are one of God's mistakes

F u t u r e L o v e r s

P a r t I I

Naruto woke up, feeling cold. He sat up slowly, not wanting to hurt more than necessarily. He glanced around the room with sleepy eyes, searching for the source of the coldness. He spotted it almost immediately.

The window was open.

He mumbled something that was incoherent even to himself, and got off the soft bed. He walked over to the window and closed it. The smell of something burnt made its way to his nostrils and he looked down on the floor.

Orochimaru's shirt was laying there, a burn mark on the arm. The man had probably tried to iron it himself. Naruto shook his head, picking the shirt up. Orochimaru had probably gotten a call and forgotten about the iron and the shirt.

Naruto didn't say anything as Orochimaru walked inside the room, the cell phone between his shoulder and his ear as he talked in a low, unhurried voice to someone on the other end.

Naruto, having lived with his guardian since his birth, quickly recognized the tone as Orochimaru's business voice, or as one could put it 'doctor voice' – the voice he used on his patients.

When Orochimaru hung up, he nodded towards the boy. "Who told you to close the window?" The pale man fisted Naruto's blonde hair, pulling in it, earning a small mewl from the blonde boy.

"I-I'm sorry. I thought–"

"Don't bother. I'm still disappointed with you. How could you even think of getting into a fight?"

To emphasize his words, Orochimaru pulled in Naruto's hair back, so that the blonde fell to his butt with a little thump. Sighing to show his disappointment, Orochimaru turned around and walked out of the room.

"I suggest you hurry if you want to get with the bus."

Naruto glanced at the clock, then down at his naked body. He wouldn't be able to catch the bus, since he needed to shower.

Usually Orochimaru didn't want him to go to school if they had had a rough night the night before. Naruto got up, stretching as much as he could without breaking or falling into a pile of limbs on the floor. After that, he took a shower to clean away the blood and sperm.

The bruises didn't disappear this shower either, and Naruto showed his distress by pushing on each and every one of the bruises – hard.

UAUAUA

Itachi stretched in his bed. He curled his toes, wondering if he should go to school today, or if he should stay in like he had done yesterday. When he arched his back, making it crack slightly, he decided to stay at home. He had stayed at home yesterday too, the day after his "argument" with Sasuke.

He didn't feel bad for what he had said to his spoiled, yet loveable baby brother. What he was feeling bad over was what Sasuke had said to him.

You're just the guy who's staring at him from his little brother's bedroom window!

It echoed in his mind, over and over. Sasuke's voice, telling him that he held no part in Sannin Naruto's life, that he didn't know Naruto, that he had nothing to do with the blonde boy. It was a bit creepy, in that disturbing stalker-way. Itachi had been too busy staring at Naruto to even realise that maybe the blonde actually had seen him.

What if Naruto had seen him staring from the window? Would he tell his father that a freaky long-haired older guy was staring at him as soon as he sat down on his own garden?

Maybe they would think that he, Uchiha Itachi, was a paedophile. After all, Naruto was in Sasuke's age. And Sasuke was, what, fourteen years old? Wait, no…Itachi scowled – he didn't even know how old his little brother was. But then again, Sasuke had a pretty scrawny body and he was always behaving so childishly. He could be twelve for all Itachi knew.

Shifting so that he lay on his side, Itachi nibbled on his lower lip and stared into the wall. It felt a little strange to be in his own room, because he had been in Sasuke's bedroom so much more lately.

Itachi made a sound, something similar to a groan, but softer and lower. It made his head ache to think about things like this. Now he knew how Kisame felt every day.

He finally sat up, and his feet met the cool floor. He stretched his long legs and strong arms before standing and walking over to the bathroom door. He almost threw it open, and got inside. He needed to shower – his beautiful hair looked like it had been newly washed, but it was just greasy.

He muttered a few curses as he started to brush his hair, trying to get the knots to disappear with the brush. He usually cared more for his hair, but he hadn't had the will to shower or even brush it through.

Once all of the knots were gone, he put his greasy, dark hair in a loose ponytail. He watched his mirror reflection, nothing visible in his face. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture in front of the mirror. The serious expression on his face didn't disappear. He tried to smile, but it didn't go very well. He tried again, but was only able form some kind of grimace.

Itachi merely sighed and then went to get dressed. He put on a pair of black sweatpants. It was a long time he wore them, so they were a little too small. He put on a shirt, and ignored that his belly button peaked out from between the shirt and the too small sweatpants. After he had put on a pair of socks and then a sweatshirt, he returned to the bathroom to eye himself.

He looked ridiculous, yet his face didn't change. A thin line of pale skin made itself known between his sweatpants and sweatshirt, and the pants were a little bit too short. Had it been anybody else that looked like he did with his greasy hair and solemn look, they would have laughed. He looked a little…behind, or in harsher terms – retarded.

His mother's voice woke him from his daydreaming. He winced almost invisibly.

"Itachi-kun!" She called. "Could you get the door? I'm in the shower!"

Itachi, ignoring that he looked like he had just climbed out of bed, walked down the stairs and through the kitchen. He stopped in the hall and stared at the door for a few seconds, before the doorbell sang again. Inhaling deep, he opened the door. He almost chocked on his tongue.

Sunshine shone in and the cold wind forced itself into the hall. Itachi blinked a couple of times, seeing the imperfect boy from across the street. "…Naruto," he spoke slowly. His voice was raspy from not having been used since the argument with Sasuke.

"Hi. Uhm…" Naruto cast his eyes down and stared at Itachi's feet. "I found this under the tree in our garden, and I…It has to be yours or Sasuke-san's."

Itachi eyed the cell phone in Naruto's hand, recognizing it. "That would be mine…yes."

"I'm sorry that I didn't find it immediately, I just…" Naruto stopped himself as Itachi reached out.

Slow motion…

Itachi reached out his hand. He was biting the inside of his cheek furiously, because he didn't want to say anything stupid. His fingertips touched the cold skin of Naruto's palm as his long fingers encircled the cell phone. They stayed like that – Itachi's fingers encircling the phone that still lay in Naruto's open hand.

"Itachi-kun? Who's this?"

Itachi flinched at his mother's sweet voice and removed his hand from Naruto's. He put the cell phone in his pocket, and it was then he remembered how stupid he looked. Just why had he decided to wear his ugliest clothes right now, when Naruto decided to return the cell phone?

"This is…Sannin Naruto, he lives across the street." Itachi didn't stutter, but his words were slow and it made him sound stupid. Why couldn't things go like he wanted? And just why did he care?

"Oh my," Mikoto put a hand over her plump lips. "Come inside, Naruto-kun. It's cold outside. Let me get you something to eat or drink. I'm so embarrassed over my son's behaviour."

Itachi's usually narrow eyes widened a fraction. He hoped that Naruto would turn Mikoto's offer down. He didn't want Naruto to see him like this – especially not when his hair was so greasy.

"I insist; you must come inside!" Mikoto smiled warmly and ushered the young boy inside.

Naruto had no other choice than accept and get inside. Mikoto showed him where to put his shoes and hang his jacket, and then led him to the kitchen.

Itachi stood, frozen, in front of the open door. If he knew his mother right – which he did – she was very, very embarrassed. And that meant that she would try to compensate it with everything she could. And that in turn meant that she would try to spoil Naruto rotten during his stay. Besides, Mikoto was a housewife without friends – she would love to have the blonde boy's company for as long as possible.

Itachi closed the door, wondering how long time it would take to take a shower and change clothes and fix his hair. He counted half an hour. Naruto would still be here in a few hours, even if he wanted it or not, thanks to Mikoto's overly social tendencies.

He walked back into the kitchen, where Mikoto had forced Naruto down in a chair and started to fix something. She looked her oldest son over as he entered. "You look awful, go and fix yourself."

"Thank you, mother," Itachi said, sarcasm lacing his voice. Naruto smiled a little at that, and Itachi quickly looked the other way. He got out of the room and then did what he had planned.

He took a quick shower, and then blow-dried his hair. He wished he hadn't. His silky, long hair was now fluffy and curly. He grabbed the flattener and turned it on. He wanted to look good, for reasons unknown to himself.

Once he had flattened his hair and changed into a pair of jeans and a dress shirt, he felt nicer. He was probably acting like a girl, fixing with his hair and wondering if he should try those other jeans instead. But he finally thought that he looked good enough to show himself to the blonde boy in their kitchen.

When he walked down, no one was there. He scowled, wondering where Naruto had gone. He walked into the hall, where his mother stood. She had a look of distress on her face.

"What a sweet boy," she said. Her voice was weak, and that made Itachi cringe inside. "Too bad that he couldn't stay any longer." She turned to her son. "You look really handsome, Itachi-kun."

To Be Continued

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay. This chapter was meant to be posted what feels like ages ago, but somehow I forgot doing it – I'm really sorry... and a little embarrassed, since I usually update at least once or twice a week. This chapter was a little filler-ish, and I'm sorry for its meaninglessness. Vi ses.