Silence of the Mojitos
Disclaimer: I still don't own Naruto. It kinda sucks, and, uh, stuff.
A/N: My grandfather's computer is an asswipe. Sh'yeah.
Chapter Two: Destruction
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First Wave
And they screamed and they screamed and they screamed till they couldn't anymore. But they found the will to do so, and screamed yet again. The pain shuddered through them like extreme pain tends to do, and then it stopped abruptly. Orochimaru ran his pale fingers over one of them, a young man of about twenty. Grinning maliciously, he heaved him into a pool. The pool condensed into a mass, and that mass solidified into Suigetsu.
"Your meal."
Hungry eyes strayed to the rest of the group. Orochimaru moved to block his view. "Your meal," he repeated, "Has been delivered to you."
Tender flesh was torn apart by sharp teeth. He drank the man's blood in great, greedy gulps. Oh, the satisfaction was beyond being spoken of. The satisfaction of feasting on human flesh. When Suigetsu fed, he was happy.
"You are completely warping the tale, you jackass!"
"I am NOT!" the old man countered.
"Well you're definitely not telling it like it was! What the fuck is all this satisfaction business? I didn't have a choice, asswipe, I ate what I was given—"
"Are you ashamed, you brat? Are you trying to blame Orochimaru for what you do to humans?"
"No! I'm just sayin'…I could've stopped…but he didn't let me, and…"
"And?"
"Tell 'em the story."
"You bet your punk ass, I'll tell them the story."
Bones crunched as his jaws worked. Orochimaru watched, fascinated. Revolted. Transfixed. Eager hands dug through the carcass, pushing aside flesh in search of the hot heart, which went straight into his mouth. A cry of protest worked itself past his lips—he didn't like it raw. He never had. He wasn't a beast, he wanted his food cooked. And he didn't want his food with a head. He didn't want to see the face—that was always the worst. The eyes. The eyes that had shined like his. But Orochimaru just pushed harder, exerting his will. His chakra forced the boy into eating. He didn't like it raw. But he hardly had a choice.
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Second Wave
Humanity stank.
The town was filled with dull people going about their dull lives in daily dullness. Sasuke's will quavered at the thought of it. But then he thought of what he left behind. He thought of Suigetsu, who was certainly exciting.
Dullness wasn't always a bad thing.
He forayed deeper into the streets, wandering aimlessly. Well, not entirely aimlessly—he was looking for an inn. An inn that had beds he could sleep in, an inn that served good food, an inn that would let him gather his wits, to be specific.
There was only one inn in the town. Oh well, you make do with what you have. Sasuke entered, purchased a room, and sank into the moldy bedspread, curling into himself. How long had it been since he'd had a bed—any bed? The last time he'd slept somewhere comfortable was the last time he'd been in Suigetsu's arms…no. Don't think of him. Just thinking of him would be a beacon for the water nin to follow. The last time Sasuke had lain down on a bed was before Orochimaru had been killed. Before Suigetsu and Karin and Juugo and Sasuke had escaped. Before he killed his brother. Before all that.
It seemed like mere hours had passed since Sasuke had heard Kabuto's scream of outrage at finding his master's corpse, hours since he'd fled the tower holding tight to Suigetsu's hand, Karin and Juugo covering their backs. Just hours ago, they'd fought his brother's partner, and Karin and Juugo had died to save Sasuke and Suigetsu. And…and so recently that he could still taste the words on his lips, so recently Suigetsu had told him the secret…all the secrets…as if there weren't enough secrets in this world. As if it wasn't bad enough that his brother had been innocent. As if it wasn't bad enough that Sasuke was a murderer.
As if he could handle any of it.
Of course he'd run. What else could he do? Sasuke was frightened. The truths…about his brother, his clan, about his lover, Orochimaru, and oh…about the tower…about that gilded door in the tower…they crushed him.
A whimper escaped his lips, and his eyes shut tight. Why wouldn't the world just let him stop existing? Surely there was a limit to the amount of pain in a person's life…the pain he'd inflicted and the pain inflicted on him…surely there was a limit, surely it would all end…
Surely it would stop.
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Third Wave
Suigetsu heaved the fire, fish and embers into the sea and watched as they sizzled angrily. Anger was boiling in his blood too, anger that raged and stung with the shame of being abandoned.
Sasuke hadn't come back.
How dare he. How dare he leave him behind. Where could he possibly go? It wasn't a rhetorical question anymore—as Suigetsu ran with his long, loping gait across the cliff tops, it was a question that determined his next move. Sasuke, his feet pounded the name into the ground, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke…
He wouldn't let him go. He loved him too much to leave him alone. He'd been ready to eat fish for him! He'd fought for him, he would die for him! Sasuke had abandoned him. But he wouldn't abandon Sasuke. Sasuke would never be rid of him. No. Never.
A memory…the shadow of a memory…
"Doofus."
"Emo punk!"
His smile was worth any trouble. Even invoking Orochimaru's wrath. To see that smile, to see that smirk, Suigetsu would go to any length.
A kiss. Tender and sweet and needy. Hands groping each other's bodies, desperate for contact.
"I love you, Sasuke."
"Your boxers are on backwards."
The pain of the experiments was worth it too. Sasuke was always there when it was Suigetsu's turn. Well…almost always. When it was one of those experiments…when Orochimaru needed to see him eat…the Uchiha was no where to be seen.
But that was okay too. Because Sasuke wouldn't smile if he knew what Suigetsu was.
"Sasuke," he whispered to the winds, "Hold on. Wait for me. Don't go away. I'm coming for you."
And, unspoken…I will kill you before I let you leave me.
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Mmmm. Fish. Ew no wait, I don't like fish. I'm more of a one-meat girl. Chicken rules all! And bacon! 'Kay, so two-meat girl. Deal with it.