... ::cough:: Uh...SORRY. ::flees:: I had writer's block! Be nice to me, it's my birthdaayyy! Or it will be...on Thursday...
Disclaimer: ...::snort::
Warnings: Language, mild violence, YAOI. Naruto-angst. Sasuke-angst. Tsunade-angst. Foxy-angst.
Pairings: InoNaru (minor), OroSasu (minor), NaruSasu (main, but later)...
Summary: Naruto has always had dreams of being invisible. After a falling out with his aunt and a run-in with the school bad ass, Sasuke, he finds he really is. Somehow he has to make Sasuke see him, or he'll never be seen again. Based on the movie The Invisible.
"I told you to fuck off, Hatake."
In the late afternoon sun, anyone else would have been sweltering in the black clothes Sasuke wore, but his composure remained the same. If anything, he looked somewhat cold.
"And I told you I wanted to talk."
Kakashi stepped over to the edge of the roof where Sasuke stood staring out across the city. There was no fence around the edge, only a two-foot high wall of concrete. Kakashi sat on this, gesturing back to his partner to join him. "So, about that Uzumaki kid. Naruto, was it?"
Sasuke shrugged, indicating boredom. "What about him?"
"You seen 'im lately? 'Cause his aunt says he didn't come home last night. And, uh–no one's seen him at school." Kakashi shifted, reaching into one of the pockets of his jacket to pull out a small orange book. Iruka looked appalled. "We heard you and he had a bit of a rumble in the cafeteria a couple days ago. Anything happen after that? No...resentful feelings, I trust?"
"No. Whatever the idiot did, he probably deserved it." The boy turned away from the officer, his fingers twitching just slightly, like he was trying to shake water from them.
Kakashi cocked his head to the side, peering over the top of his book. Never taking his eyes off Sasuke, he batted absently at Iruka's pestering hands that attempted to take the book from him.
"So, nothing happened." It was not a question; the doubt spoke for itself.
Sasuke eyed the officers over his shoulder, still facing away, and said nothing. His deep black eyes were defiant, unyielding. They gave away nothing as the boy pulled out a cigarette and lit it, cupping his hand around the flame to prevent it from going out. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before he let it out in an explosive exhale.
Kakashi shrugged and, not bothering to put his book away, stood, pulling Iruka up by the elbow (Much to the chagrin of the older man. Four months apparently made a distinct difference in regards to maturity, responsibility, and utter ridiculousness).(1)
"Ma, too bad." He stretched, putting on a blatant display of disregard. Sasuke rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, one propped against the other to hold his cancer-stick in place. "Well–" The silver-haired man approached the teen carefully, "If you...do happen to hear anything– find something out–gimmie a call. Here's my number," a business card displaying a well known adult book store on one side and a nearly illegibly scrawled phone-number on the back was handed to the teen, who snorted in disgust as he took it, "Feel free to call me anytime."
"Yeah–sure Hatake."
Iruka bowed as they exited the roof.
Sasuke fingered the card for a few seconds before stuffing it negligently into his pocket, and inhaled another lungful of smoke.
"You son of a bitch."
Naruto didn't care much for Sasuke. At all really. The previously overheard conversation flew straight over his head as he watched Sasuke effortlessly deny his entire involvement in last night's plot. It didn't matter–that was the past. What was now, was that Naruto was dead. Now.
"You fucking son of a bitch!"
Snarling, Naruto raced at the silent teen, who turned to him with the expected blank look that morphed into shock and fear as the hitherto-unseen boy grabbed him by his thin upper arms and forcibly shoved him to the edge.
Without thinking, Naruto threw the taller boy off the side of the eleven-storey apartment building.
Sasuke's eyes widened in terror, and his mouth opened in a strangled scream as he fell, helpless, unprepared, to the ground. Naruto's body shook in anger–no hint of regret–and waited for the sick thud that would signify Sasuke's awful landing.
It never came.
Naruto stared over the edge of the roof as Sasuke stubbed out his cigarette on the low barrier and walked slowly to the elevator, eyes on the ground.
Naruto was angry.
He was really fucking angry.
He had run around the city twice, and not a single person had noticed him. It was frustrating, it was depressing, and it was painful.
It was just like his dreams.
He stormed into his house, slamming the door hard enough to hear the wood crack, but he knew that if he turned around there would be no damage to the door or the frame.
Naruto was really, really fucking angry.
He also knew where his grandfather's old gun was kept.
It was a really old gun–he wouldn't have been surprised if it didn't work at all, but it was loaded (had been for several years, never been used), and easily obtained.
Naruto flew up the stairs into the attic, taking no care to be quiet, because he knew for a fact that no one could hear him anyway.
The handgun was old–obviously–but well kept, and in good condition.
Naruto sat himself down on the floor of the attic, breathing in the dust, and stared at the pistol.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes tight, and placed the barrel his mouth, letting his tongue trace the old scratches on the metal.
He made a face–it tasted horrible–and pulled the trigger with a deafening bang.
It worked–for a second.
"FUCK."
Naruto stomped back down the attic stairs, flipping off the gun rack where the old silver pistol still sat.
Tsunade paused with her fist raised, ready to knock. With a sinking feeling, she dropped her hand and pushed the door open. Naruto wasn't in there, after all. She hadn't bothered to change into normal clothes–having called in sick to work–so she still wore her silky green dressing gown over her nightclothes. The window had been left open during the night, so a warm breeze floated easily in with the soft sounds of birds.
It would have been peaceful if it weren't for the fact that the most important thing was missing: Her nephew.
Tsunade sighed, hugging herself and closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of the missing boy's room.
The room smelled just like Naruto (or Naruto smelled just like the room, either one was plausible). The light scent of paper; sticky sweet smell of ink; the foul stench of unwashed socks; ramen.
Tsunade's eyebrow twitched. Naruto probably had hoarded away half the packets of ramen she bought him–it wouldn't surprise her what with how fast those things disappeared. Naruto was addicted to the stuff, and it would probably take counseling to change his mind.
She snorted, half-amused, half-annoyed. She would have to have a talk with him about not keeping it in his room though.
Then she remembered he was missing, and sat down heavily on Naruto's bedspread, staring blankly at the floor.
After Arashi and Minako (2) died, Tsunade had attached herself to the blond boy like a leech, taking as much care as possible that Naruto would never feel pain. It was the least she could do–to save the last remnant of her brother's love for life. Unfortunately, middle school had been the hardest time for him, and Tsunade had been trying so hard to keep herself detached that it wasn't surprising Naruto had some feelings of resentment towards her.
But Naruto reminded her so much of Dan, so much of Nawaki, so much of Arashi, that it hurt to look at him sometimes. It took only a short while to get used to having him around, but coping with–with everything, that took longer. And by the time she had accepted Naruto, loved him as her own son–he was too far gone.
And that hurt even more.
Tsunade fiddled with her ponytail. It felt weird to have it back like that–she hadn't worn it in that style since Dan. It was just an instinct that made her go for one tail instead of her usual two.
She blinked as something sticking out from under the bed caught her eye.
Reaching down, the blonde woman picked up the small notebook she had seen Naruto carry around. It wasn't a fancy notebook–or even attractive. Its cover was battered, though clean, and it was painfully orange. Naruto's name was written in blue ballpoint pen on the cover, his handwriting shaky enough that she could tell he'd had it for years. The spiral binding was still in decent shape, though it had seen better days, and as she opened the cover to the first page, there was no doubt that it was his.
THE MAGNIFICENT
TALENTED
AMAZING
UZUMAKI NARUTO'S DIARY,
FUTURE KING OF EVERYTHING.
TOUCH AND YOU DIE.
Tsunade allowed herself to laugh softly; Naruto was so predictable.
She flipped through the pages quickly, watching as Naruto's life passed before her eyes. The handwriting morphed, grew neater, cleaner, sloppier, ridiculous, until it was mostly chicken scratch. There were half-rendered drawings, raunchy stick-figure doodles, and notes from all classes.
As she reached the end, she noticed the poems getting darker–sadder. It wasn't just the words, it was the way he wrote them. This poem was written in foppish, loopy handwriting, and the scribbles over words were heavier. Another poem was written in spiky handwriting, almost panicked, and there were a few places where Naruto hadn't pressed hard enough, so the ink faded out slightly.
The last few used pages were all the same poem–or different variations of it.
Tsunade read it slowly, mouthing the words at first, 'til her voice grew, and she spoke hoarsely.
""When I sleep, the night flows in.
Through me, around me,
Naruto recited with her. He took a step closer with each line, until he was standing right in front of her, his knees brushing her hands that held the notebook.
"I hear it crawl, I watch it breath,
It circles around, like birds of prey.
My dreams are broken, but bright,
Like the—"
Tsunade's voice broke, and with a sob she dropped the book, vanishing form the room as fast as possible.
Naruto looked tiredly at the notebook, lying innocently on the floor. He'd pick it up, if it would do anything.
Suddenly–like in the attic–he felt irrational. Therefore, acting on instincts he'd prefer not to have, the boy blew a raspberry a the whole room, and stomped back out, up the stairs and past his aunt who was sitting at her computer, and out the front door again.
He collapsed in a huff on the front steps, and buried his face in his arms.
Screeeeech, screeeeeeeech, thud.
Naruto looked up, and cringed.
A mid-sized car had just come around the curve of the hill, and had accidently hit a small red fox that had been crossing.
The driver had swerved to avoid it, but no such luck; the poor animal was hit, and the car, which had almost stopped, slowly moved on.
Naruto felt sorry for the animal, and was about to get up to check on it–for he knew that it was probably dead–when something bit his fingers. Hard.
He yelped, and lashed out, hitting the fox on the head.
He stared. The fox growled at him, and bared its teeth, then settled down, and inched closer.
Naruto turned his eyes to the fox lying on the road. He started when he saw it's front leg twitch: it was still alive, but just barely. The whole lower half of it was crushed and its side fluttered up and down with frantic breaths.
There were large blackish streaks from the fox's eyes down the sides of its nose–a variation in fur colour, obviously. Naruto turned his eyes back to the fox that was happily clawing at his pant leg. It too had the same black markings on its face.
The fox stopped mutilating his pants for a second, and looked up at him with cunningly curious yellow eyes.
Naruto reached out tentatively to pet it, and it nuzzled his hand happily. He looked back at the struggling animal in the road, and watched, unconsciously holding his breath, as the animal gave one last pathetic twitch, breathed deeply, and then was still.
His fingers closed around nothing when he tried to rub the fox's ears.
It was no longer there.
Naruto swore, eyes the size of dinner plates.
(1) Yes, okay, Iruka's not older than Kakashi--but his birthday is! (or so they tell me) I already had it typed out, and I didn't wanna change it, so whatever.
(2) I stole Minako's name from FastForeward because I'm a bad person. I used Arashi 'cause it's the most common one out there for the Yondaime. Something about the Summoning scroll had Arashi in the slot before Naruto's. ::shrug::
OOOooOoOOOooooOOooo. ::cough:: 'K, done being retarded now.
Alright, so this chapter was even more disjointed and bad than the last one, but whatever. Too bad. I have no clue what happens when, so I just smooshed them all up in one bundle, and it'll start making more sense later.
And again, sorry about not updating in foreevvveeerrrrrrr. ::dodges tomatoes::