What do you know? Another chapter!
In part written with Timbaland's "Apologize" running through my mind. I can't write while actually listening to music, only when I play it inside my head. Weird huh?
Anyway.
Enjoy.
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"...And of course, my daughter, Mikkoku." Finally her eyes looked up to him, and Naruto felt something like a shiver run through his back as her red glowing orbs looked up at him. From what, he wasn't sure. They quickly bowed to each other, and the blond turned his attention back to Fugaku.
"...And let me introduce Kiba, my friend," Naruto said.
Fugaku looked surprised, but quickly replied that he was pleased to make his acquaintance.
"And now I would ask you to stay for tea, but I know you must be tired. Iruka will show you to your rooms." A man was at the door in an instant, and Naruto wondered if he had been waiting outside the whole time. The man was surprisingly tan – Naruto had noticed everyone seemed pale here – had a scar across his nose, and hair tied up in a ponytail. He nodded, and Naruto bowed once more to Fugaku.
"Arigato, Fugaku-sama."
He and Kiba left, but on his way out, the blond couldn't resist a final curious peek at the thin, pale boy who was now staring at him.
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Hollow steps could be heard walking down marble halls as they neared their rooms in silence.
"Naruto-Kun, here is where you shall be staying," Iruka spoke, indicating a door. "And Kiba-kun, here," showing a door across from it.
"Arigato, Iruka-san," They said happily, eager to fall onto a bed and pass out. They didn't bother wishing each other good night, just shuffled into their respective rooms. The usually energetic blond took in the large room, the king-sized silk bed, and the continuation of marble flooring before falling onto his bed from sheer exhaustion.
And then sleep. Merciful, peaceful, sleep.
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The raven stared at the ceiling in concentration. The corner in question was white, with a small curl of paint peeling off of it. Round-ish, with two triangular shapes poking out of it. Like a fox's head. If he squinted his eyes slightly, the shadows from the candle beside him made light strips across the form, like whiskers. Like the thin faded scars on Naruto's cheeks.
He closed his eyes, and the blonde's beautiful azure ones stared back at him. His mussed up, golden hair. Light pink lips.
He had to admit, he was intrigued.
Sasuke groaned and turned over in his bed. Why on earth was he thinking of the idiot, anyway? He was a guy! His sister's fiancé no less!
He would have to tell Iruka to have the ceiling repainted.
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"Mmmm..."
Naruto woke with a groan, delved back under the thick, creamy blankets, burrowing his momentarily chilled arm back where it belonged, and dozed off again. Half an hour later, the same ritual repeated itself. Finally, after an hour, the tan boy sighed and threw the sheets off of himself, standing up in his room which was now flooded with sunlight. He stretched, and walked over to the window.
Acres and acres of pristine garden stretched out below him – carefully cared for, with roses, cherry blossoms, plum blossoms, and other exotic plants that the blond would never be able to name. A tea garden, a lake, and various other components built up a rather magnificent view. He grinned.
Trudging to the bathroom, he glanced at himself in the mirror. A sleepy face and wrinkled, messy, dirty clothing looked back at him. He drew himself a quick bath, and peeled off sticky, travel worn layers, which he promptly threw in a corner. He sat on the side of the tub, which he noticed, was also marble. What was it with marble in this place? Fugaku must really have some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder, he decided as he slid into the bath.
Scrubbing feverishly at the dirt which seemed ingrained in his skin, the blonde's mind wandered to the recent events. He pictured Mikkoku, with her light blue hair and blood-stained lips. Those eyes which made his neck crawl. He tried to imagine their marriage – she in a beautiful silk kimono, he in a haoiri-hakama (1), smiling at each other as the priest pronounced them man and wife. He quickly dispelled the image, which was replaced by her brother's brooding face and ebony eyes.God! Can't I think of anything NORMAL? He screamed at himself, and plunged his head under the surface of the water – hair rendered weightless, silk tendrils floating above his head, blissful silence reigning in his ears.
When he'd run out of oxygen and emerged, he quickly stepped out of the bath and dried himself off. Re-entering his bedroom, he found there to be a set of clothes, clean, ironed, and folded, sitting on his bed. Feeling a bit ill at ease as to how perfectly and silently every action was executed here, the blonde slid into the comfortable shirt and pants. He raked his hands through his hair, and decided to see what Kiba was doing. He knocked on the door, but heard no response. Puzzled, he knocked a second time.
"Kiba, I don't know what you're doing in there, but it better be decent, 'cause I'm coming in." He stated loudly as he opened the door. Kiba's room was smaller than his, but it was still pretty nice. The boy in question was sprawled over his bed, fast asleep. Naruto pondered whether to wake him up or just let him sleep all day. Meh. If I wake him up, he'll find something to hold over my head the entire time we're here.
The blond nodded to himself and walked out of the room. But now he faced an even bigger problem: what was he supposed to do? Wander about the castle? Find Fugaku and talk to him about the 'political state' of their two lands? A grumble interrupted his thoughts. Well, yes. That was what he REALLY wanted. Perhaps someone else had heard the noise too, because Iruka suddenly appeared.
"My lord, good morning. I hope you slept well?"
"Umm... Yeah. Do you think I could get some breakfast?"
"Of course, my lord. Follow me. I am afraid that Fugaku-sama and his children have already eaten, but the cooks have made you something as well."
"What time is it?"
"It is 11 o'clock, my Lord."
"Great." He mumbled. They continued in silence for a while. "Is there a training yard or something around here? I need to practice."
"Yes, of course, my Lord. Sasuke-sama and Itachi-sama spend most of their time there. You may be able to practice with them this afternoon." He said the last part as an afterthought.
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Clank. Chling.
Sasuke jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding having his head neatly sliced off by his older brother. He returned to offense, and brought his sword crashing down to what he hoped was Itachi's arm. Itachi slipped away, before dashing over to Sasuke, slicing through the air, only to have his younger brother block it. He backed away and attacked again, resulting in a series of attacks and blocks.
The younger boy's brow began to sweat, and he aimed for Itachi's head. Obviously he was unsuccessful. Itachi could see right through him. They could both see through each other, with almost identical clarity. But somehow, their fights always seemed to feel rather repetitive. Sasuke blocked and attacked, trying to get an opening in his impenetrable brother. He tried to channel his hatred, his disgust into every swipe, every stroke.
He aimed his sword at Itachi's heart, and ran forwards towards him, but his older brother dodged the blow, and landed a quick one at the arm Sasuke was using to wield his sword. It sliced through Sasuke pale, bare skin – a small cut but a cut nonetheless. Sasuke hissed in pain, momentarily distracted, and Itachi brought his sword up to Sasuke's creamy white throat. Surprised, and angry with himself for letting such a small thing let Itachi win once again, Sasuke glared into his brother's empty eyes which held a triumphant glint in them.
But Itachi did not lower his sword immediately. He let the blade run along Sasuke's neck, delicately, almost as a lover's caress, savoring his victory. His eyes shifted to Sasuke's own, and he seemed to contemplate him.
"You know Sasuke..." He murmured, his voice ghosting Sasuke's ear. "...You've always been weak... You've never had what it takes. And... I don't think you ever will." The blade sliced through the first layer of skin, and Sasuke could feel the warm blood drip down his neck. He closed his eyes, and felt Itachi's presence disappear. He stood there, silent and bleeding for what felt like an hour.
Why was it that no matter what happened, Itachi always beat him? Always had the upper hand? Had his parents twirled around his finger? Had everyone lost in his illusion of perfection? Despite having killed... But then his mind went blank. He didn't even know if Itachi had killed someone. He felt hopeless. Simmering in self-pity and hatred towards the man who had ruined his existence, Sasuke sunk to the ground. He pulled his knees in, curling his arms around them, his sword falling to the ground with a clatter.
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Naruto practically bounced to the practice yard. The day had mainly been a waste, but he could still get a good work out and improve his swordsmanship. His sword buckled to his belt, he felt as if he were being reunited with an old friend. Improvement. The sun was shining, he was full of energy, this would be a good day for training.
The training yard was actually an enormous platform of dirt, which, from his vantage point, appeared empty. Naruto deflated slightly. He'd been sure he could have just walked up and sparred with whomever happened to be there at the time. Oh well. He could still practice stances. He walked to the edge of the yard, and noticed a sort of black form, huddled up in a corner. Frowning slightly, he picked up his pace as he neared it, and his eyes widened as he recognized black bangs hanging over a pair of scrunched-up knees.
"Sasuke?" He asked in disbelief. The form was ignoring him. "Are... Are you ok?"
The shape quivered slightly, before he heard the raven's distinctive voice, though slightly muddled, for the first time. "Go away."
The blond hesitated. On the one hand, he hardly knew the boy. On the other, he had never let any suffer in silence. And he was going to keep it that way.
"No. What's wrong with you?" He asked, approaching the pale boy.
"Nothing. Now go away."
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."
Sasuke finally lifted his head, and Naruto could see the tear-free face, but he could also see the eyes, glowing with unshed tears and hatred.
"Do I have to spell it out for you, Dobe? I said GO. AWAY." The blond clenched his jaw.
"Fine. Fine, bastard!" Naruto snarled. "If you want to reject help and other people, be that way." He paused a long moment, waiting for the Uchiha to answer him. "Do you really hate other people that much?" He asked quietly, but Sasuke still wouldn't speak.
"What is wrong with you?! I try to be nice, but you just turn me away! Answer me. Answer me, Godamnit!"
"You... Really want to know?" Sasuke's voice was dangerously soft. "You really want to know why I don't want your help? Why I hate you, and everyone else in this God forsaken world? Why... Deep down... I'm dying inside?"
The blond boy was stunned. That was, perhaps, the longest he'd ever heard the raven speak for. Absentmindedly he noticed that he liked it.
"Sasuke..." He bent down so he was level with the crumpled boy. "You don't have to speak," he said finally. The brunette looked at him with eyes that seemed to have lived a thousand years, witnessed horrific things. Finally, he broke. A pearly tear fell down his face, followed by another, until Naruto felt that the waterfalls Jiraiya had brought him to to peek at girls were nothing. He hugged the frail wisp of a boy to him, and Sasuke just cried even harder.
An hour passed, and darkness began to creep up on them, till they were the last pinprick of light, the yin and the yang clutching each other, until they too were shrouded into darkness.
"Sasuke... We should head back," Naruto said quietly to the dark-haired boy. He'd stopped crying, and simply sat with an empty, dead look on his face. He let himself be pulled up, and walked beside Naruto. A lifeless corpse whose heart managed to beat, somehow.
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(1) Men's kimono, traditionally worn for weddings.
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