I was dreaming.
I knew that I was dreaming.
There was no other way for me to see my father's face again other than in my dreams...or nightmares.
My memories of him were indelible. No matter how many times I rubbed away at the image of his face in my mind, it was still distinct and clear. Exactly the same as he had always been. This dream was no different. I was looking up at his looming figure in the open slit of his office door. His usually pristine suit was creased and ruffled, his tie thrown to the floor and his cuff links ripped off from the careless way which he had pulled up his sleeves. A white knuckled grip was holding to his grey tinted hair.
"How could this happen? Your ancestors must be laughing at us!"
He was crying to the heavens. Leering back and forth over my mother that sat in his office chair. She reached out a delicate palm to his arm. She had always been so soft spoken and gentle.
"Fugaku, darling, please calm down-"
"No! I shall do no such thing! My efforts have all been wasted! Itachi is the one with all of the skill, the knowledge, the instinct! And yet it's this lowly creature that-"
"Don't say that. He's your son."
"That spawn is not my son! He's nothing but a waste of-"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence. I did not hold him in my womb for nine months for you to dismiss him in such a way."
She had stood up from the chair, allowing her billowing nightgown to drop from one of her pale shoulders. Her dark tresses brushed her porcelain face; the first time that I had ever seen my mother without her hair traditionally tied away from her face. Her shimmering eyes were stunning and soft. As dark as my own and my brother's. My father had stopped his pacing and stamping when he heard her speak. I could only see his back as he walked over to her, and held her fragile hands in his own.
"I will fix this."
He stated finally. He kissed her cheek, and I could see my mothers eyes begin to tear up, and the exposed white of her shoulders begin to quiver. My father wrapped his thick arms around her frame, and I was worried that he would crush her. But she held strong to him, stroking her flawless cheek against his neck. He spoke again to her, softly so that I could barely hear his words.
"I will most definitely fix this."
I didn't understand, and I wouldn't for a long time. Why did my mother cry, why did my father spurn me, and why was this the start of my unusual childhood? I sat by the door, watching my parents hold each other.
"I will not allow Itachi's talents to be wasted. All because of that little thief."
Hearing such distaste in my father's voice I backed away from the door, as silently as a five year old child could do. My back knocked against the warm hip of my older brother who had been standing behind me. He lowered himself to my height so I could look into his troubled eyes, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into the comfort of his chest.
"It's okay Sasuke. Go to bed."
I could feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest, and I leant further into him, feeling the childish fatigue after such excitement.
"What were they talking about?"
I mumbled in question, as he lifted me into his arms. My weak hands held tight to his shoulders as he carried me to my large, empty bedroom. He kissed my temple.
"Don't worry about it. That man is talking nothing but nonsense. Mother will make sure that he learns his place."
My tired eyes fluttered as I leant against his neck.
When I first began to recover my senses I kept calm to realise that I wasn't in my bed, nor in the car, or in an alleyway bleeding to death. I was laid on a futon; a strange experience after owning a western bed for my whole life, but it was certainly better than the floor of an alleyway. I could feel the soft weight of a thin blanket draped over my torso and tucked beneath my arms. It seemed that my sense of touch along most of my body was dulled by what I could feel were bandages taped to several patches of skin. The scent of medicinal salves and such herbs emitted from my body and the blankets in hefty wafts, numbing my sinuses.
I was fully awake a few moments later, able to coherently analyse my surroundings, think back to how I could have possible gotten into such a situation, and why it felt like I'd been the victim of a hole puncher; but all this time, I couldn't feel a single limb in my body. Not even my eyes would obey me when I ordered them to open. I wasn't used to having my orders refused, especially by my own body, so I only tried harder to receive a response from my dormant muscles, despite the blatant signals that I was receiving, telling me that my body was not yet ready to begin moving after such a long and well desired rest. Uchihas have always been stubborn to the very end. After a lot of tight clenching, muscle tensing and steel willpower I just about managed to open my eyes, making it look like a graceful start to my wakening even though there was so much effort put into the small action.
I almost thought I was still dreaming when the first thing I saw was a wide, toothsome, almost inhumane grin before me, occupying probably two thirds of the face that it belonged to. For as long as I can remember, there has never been a time when I woke up as thoroughly confused as I did at this point. This was complete stranger looming over me that I had no recollection of meeting, yet my instincts had no reaction to his presence at all. I wasn't suspicious, cautious, or even remotely afraid of him. I was just curious as to why he felt the need to rape my personal space so vigorously.
"Oh good, you're awake. I was worried that I'd be stuck being your personal nurse after a while. I really didn't like the idea of changing your diapers."
He laughed and sat back on the floor with his legs tucked beneath him, evacuating my breathing space. Placed on a small tray next to him were a collection of small bottles which contained what I could only guess from the smell was natural remedies and herbs, familiar looks and smells as the ones now covering my body. I wanted to be grateful that I was receiving help in the first place, but all I could think of was 'who do I have to rob to get some damn, good old fashioned drugs?' I can understand the art of making your own medicine, but the effort is pointless when I smell like an incense candle and feel in just as much pain as I would without the pretty flowers rubbed into my gaping wounds.
Picking a small bottle from the bunch he unscrewed the top and peeled back the blanket covering me until it was tucked over my hip. I would have screamed and pushed him away for revealing the indecency of my naked chest, but the aches and remaining inability to feel my arms put a dampen on any embarrassment that I wished to conceal with violent rage. I just lay back with heated cheeks as he rubbed a few moist leaves into a bruise beneath my sternum.
"Aren't you going to ask where you are?"
He enquired, moving his hand in a firm circular motion, pressing on the bruise unnecessarily. Ignoring the dull pain I looked around that the room I was in. From what I could see of the walls beneath the pinned up old posters and collectables, they were painted a garish orange, with the paint peeling in periodic patterns. There were dirty clothes and several tattered pairs of trainers littering the chipped wooden floor. Other than the futon there was only one piece of furniture; a scuffed old desk that was blanketed by nothing but empty ramen cups a several bottles that at one point should have contained high sugar beverages. The room looked very much like an objectified visual representation of him, with his dirty, tussled blond hair, crumpled and greasy work shirt that was splattered with a few bloodstains, and hands calloused from manual labour that were still persistently massaging my skin. Biting my tongue so to stop myself from shouting at him to leave me alone I answered stiffly.
"I'm guessing that I'm in your bedroom."
My voice was hoarse and stiff, sounding as though dust had already begun to coat my vocal chords from lack of use. The man smiled.
"Yeah, that's right. I kind of got the idea from you that it wouldn't be the best move to take you to a hospital so I just dragged you back here."
I remembered more than enough of how I met him to reaccount my first impression of him, which was now pushed out of my conscience to be reconsidered now that I realised that he wasn't completely brain dead.
"Thank you."
I bit out against the ache of my chest and allowed myself to relax a bit. It surprised me that I wasn't completely on edge, like usual, even when I was in my own home. So I guessed that my instincts trusted this man, and I trusted my instincts more than anything or anyone. They had yet to lead me astray. Well, it was either that option, or I subconsciously realised that there was no way a man as pathetic as him could be anywhere close to a threat to me, even while I was immobile. Though that may have been an unreasonable conjecture to make when my profession was to be alert and suspicious at ever single moment of existence.
Retracting his hand, my new acquaintance wiped the remaining herbs on the thighs of his jeans.
"I think that an introduction is in order. I am Uzumaki Naruto, and I already know your name, Uchiha Sasuke."
He didn't bother to reach his hand out to me for an introductory handshake. He could probably tell that I couldn't move a thing. I said previously that my instincts trusted him, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't be sceptical of him. Besides, I found his casual approach to addressing me irritating. I never liked being referred to by my first name by anyone other than my brother. Not even my father truly had that privilege. I tilted my head back with eyes set for interrogating.
"How do you know my name?"
"I checked your I.D at the restaurant , remember?"
With a nod I accepted that as my answer. Not leaving a moment to waste with pointless relaxation I began to ask the stranger how serious my injuries were, if he had actually inspected them.
"Uzumaki-san, I wou-"
"Just call me Naruto."
He interrupted, riling my temper a little bit more.
"Pardon?"
I asked, with forged politeness, actually wanting to scold him for being so disrespectful like I would usually do. Being completely vulnerable in this place I found this to be not the best time to teach him proper etiquette. With an oblivious laugh he laid his hand on my bandaged forearm.
"I think that it's okay to be on first name basis after all that we went through together, huh Sasuke?"
"Not really. I find it ru-"
"Yeah, yeah I get it. So why were those guys chasing you yesterday? Are you a criminal or something?"
Great. When I have a pounding headache, I'm sent a chattering numskull to be my bedside nurse. Gritting my teeth I looked to the ceiling in hopes to rid myself of the image of his face that I wanted to smash in with my elbow.
"No, I'm not a crook. But I'm also not at liberty to tell you the reason behind yesterday's events. All I can do is request that you erase it from your memory completely, or at least keep it to yourself."
"What? There's no way I could do that. It was far too fun to just forget."
With creased brows, wide eyes and a gaping mouth I turned my head to look at his idiotic smirk.
"Fun? Are you out of your mind?"
I choked out. I suppose he would think of the event as being fun when he wasn't the one that had several holes drilled through his body. If I drank something it would probably just end up leaking out of me like it would do a colander. He didn't answer me. Just laughed at my expression and turned back to the small tray of medicinal equipment, among which was a bottle of water which I only now spotted. Seeing me eyeing it he lifted it and popped the cap on the top. I expected him to just give it to me to allow me to drink. But the hospitable stranger took it upon himself to feed me. I would've spat it back out of him if I hadn't needed the hydration.
He tucked a thick hand under my limp neck and lifted my head forward just that little bit. I was too numb to resist any of it and just stabbed him with a fiery glare at every opportunity when he wasn't looking. He tipped the head of the bottle into my mouth, only allowing a teasingly small amount of water to pass my lips. All the while he mocked me in my weakness, saying 'drink it slowly' and 'good boy' like he was feeding a dam dog that was too stupid to understand how to consume liquids. I let it slip for the time being, but vowed that when my strength and movement returns, I would remember to serve him some painful revenge with my fists to his genitalia.
Pulling away with the bottle he moved back to give me room to cough after some of the water had travelled in the wrong direction down my throat. The clenching of my muscles brought pain all across my chest, but that pain is what woke me up to my full awareness. The feeling started to come back into my hands, blood flowing through the veins in sharp prickles that travelled down my fingers as I flexed them experimentally.
"So if you're not a criminal are you like a secret agent or something?"
I ignored him, concentrating on raising my weak arm to wipe my mouth of any water or saliva that had missed its target.
"Oh, I know! You're a Yakuza member aren't you?"
"You think I'm one of those Yakuza scum? I'm insulted!"
It was a reflexive answer that I partially regret. Not enough to apologise for my outburst, but enough to feel that little bit guilty when I saw him jump back at my tone of voice. I just hate being associated with Yakuza. Those scum sicken me, and yet the tabloids place our prideful family name under that title because they have no idea what good we do for them. Yakuza scum...how dare this stranger insult me so.
With wide eyes he pulled forward again when he realised that I wouldn't act violently or anything like that.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
He raised his hands in some kind of regretful gesture, thinking that I wouldn't notice the hint of sarcasm that laced his apology. With a cold sigh I adjusted my head on the flat pillow that was laid beneath me and felt the need to justify my outburst. With a calm disposition I allowed my creased features to relax and explained.
"I'm not doing anything illegal. I just-"
"So, this is the maggot that's stupid enough to deny help when he's got more holes in him than a cheese grater."
Obviously the people in this home weren't ones to follow the rules of social decency, continuously interrupting me.
"Obaa-chan, go easy on him. He still isn't lookin' too good."
Another blond person stood at the doorway of the room I was kept. She had her pale arms crossed over her heaving bosom and a sharp sneer pointed towards myself, looking helpless tucked up on the old futon. Her thin green coat swayed in the wind that she created as she stormed over beside me. She crouched down to examine me, coming equally as close as 'whats-his-face' had been when I had woken up. She was enough for me to smell the sharp scent of Sake on her breath, and see the creases around her lips from age.
"I doubt he would be. He's been as good as dead."
She mumbled to the blond man beside her, and leant back to sit on the floor next to him at my bedside. There, she just continued to observe me as I gave a blank stare to the both of them.
"How long have I been unconscious?"
I enquired, attempting to pull myself to sitting. But the furthest I could get was to lean back on my elbows, and even that small movement physically drained me. My arms were shaking under the weight of my lifted torso, my elbows digging through the futon to feel the solid base of the wooden floor beneath it.
"A good twenty two hours."
My features tensed in shock. That would certainly have explained my inability to move when I had woken up. And suddenly, I found the means to move again, and quickly. My time here had been wasted and Itachi would either be deathly worried about me, or just plain dead. Ignoring any unbalance in my movements I fully sat up.
"Th-Thank you for your hospitality but I really need to leave."
A hand pressed to my chest in attempts to push me back on the futon.
"Oh no, you don't! You heard what Obaa-chan said. You were practically dead! It's bad enough that you aren't in a hospital. You can't get out of bed."
"Well, nothing can stop me from trying."
That determination was short lived. A cork, wedge heel smacked me across the face while I was least expecting it. At least the woman had the kindness not to hit me in the chest where most of my injuries were homed.
"Lie down shit head before I kill what's left of you!"
She kicked twice as hard as any of Orochimaru's goons could even dream of. That small entertaining notion was more than enough to block out the pain of my severely bruised cheek and the taste of blood lingering in my mouth. I was choking on my caught breath and quiet chuckles while the large, foreign hands were touching my face an examining the new injury. The buxom sadist stood up and patted the shoulder of the man kneeling next to me.
"Naruto. If he so much as sits up, you give him a good smack. Got it?"
I felt his thick breath wash over my face as he gave a heavy sigh and looked up at the woman.
"Man, you scare me sometimes, crazy old hag."
"Damn right I'm crazy. And I'm supposed to scare you, so shut up and grow a pair."
With that she stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her. The blond man didn't even flinch at the sudden loud noise, probably more than used to such attitude from her; not that I knew enough about the two of them to make such a judgement. Finally ceasing his awful attempts at first aid, he looked at me with a light, humorous gaze as I began to lean back up onto my elbows.
"Tsunade has a weird way of showin' that she cares."
He laughed, and was kind enough to help me to sit up instead of kick me back down like that woman had done. There was no headrest to lean against when a sat up, so I slumped forward onto my knees a little, feeling my shoulders drooping forward under the strain of keeping my head lifted.
"We were up all night trying to patch you up. You were torn up worse than a scratching post."
I gave a subtle nod in way of thanks, understanding that it must have been troublesome for them to nurse me back from death though they didn't even know me. Silence passed as he looked over the new bruise on my face. Although painful, it wasn't necessary to have it treated. It was meagre in comparison to the bruises on the rest of my body and would surely be at the very end of my list of worries in the future.
After the spur of fussing over me had died down, my acquaintance settled into a less formal position of sitting, unfurling his legs and leaning to the side on one of his hands. He had fetched a pile of pillows from another room in the apartment to pile behind me and help keep me upright. They were stiff, overstuffed, cheap bags of feathers that I was not used to since my high style of living. But who was I to complain when they were probably the only things this poor man could afford. Yes; even I can show sympathy to the lower class.
"So, what exactly happened out there?"
I was handed the glass of water that I was now capable of consuming for myself, despite the pains that lingered every time I raised the vessel to my lips. I breathed a sigh against the cool glass, knowing that this man was not one to abandon his intrigue in the matter so easily.
"I can't-"
"Save your breathe, Naruto. He's under oath."
Interrupted again by the woman who had returned. And I mentally cheered in celebration to see the small bottle of prescription pain killers clutched between her manicured fingers. The small, amber tinted container looked like a haven to my pained eyes. I showed no change to my blank expression as I watched her approach. Her knowledge of my pledge of silence raised the guards that I had let slip for a short while, and her hard stare told me that that was not the extent of her knowledge about me.
She emptied two of the capsules into her hand and then offered them to me, not a moments break of eye contact as I accepted them. Even as I washed them down with the water I still held to her creased eyes over the glass. Then when they settled down my throat she opened her clown red lips to speak once more.
"He's a Ninja."
The cool, feminine voice had me gritting my teeth. Those who knew the true name of my occupation were rare, distinctly separated as being allies, or enemies. And since I ruled out that she would be an ally I was left with only one choice. I felt so helpless; weak and vulnerable to any plans she had for me. My brows dug into the gap between my eyes, uninterrupted by the warbling gold bird that vied for an explanation.
"Say what? Ninja? As in 'silent soldiers of the night' kind of Ninja? In Tokyo? Didn't they only exist in the Edo era? How come this hasn't been in the news? Then why do you have a gun? Don't you use death stars and stuff like that?"
His verbal musings went unheeded. I set the glass beside me on the floor so to free my hands should I need to use self defence any time soon. Still staring into my face her lips twitched with a hidden laugh before she continued.
"Uchiha Sasuke. The youngest prodigal son of Uchiha Fugaku. Second in command of the Uchiha clan."
"Who are you?"
I growled and supported my hand against the futon, ready to spring at her. But she leaned back in amusement and rolled up her right sleeve so to reveal her forearm. There, against her pale skin, was a simple black symbol. A permanent mark of a clan member. Had it been a traditional marking then it would have been burned or carved into her skin, but with the invention of tattoo needles such self mutilation was unnecessary when ink could be used to mark the skin instead of a scar. I too had a similar marking upon my body, placed upon me during a ceremony when I had been old enough to reply with a 'yes' when read the terms of my initiation into my family clan.
Her mark stood to be a swirled leaf. A symbol that I recognised but couldn't quite remember where it to belonged to until she revealed it to me.
"I am Tsunade, formerly the proud leader of the Konoha clan."
She lowered her sleeve with a prideful smirk and patted her arm where the tattoo resided. She pointed a finger towards me, close enough to my face that I felt the strain in my eyes as the crossed to look at it.
"We had all assumed that the Uchihas wouldn't last once they split off from Konoha. But it seems that we were sorely mistaken."
I'd heard my father mention the name Konoha quite a few times during the earliest part of my childhood. From what I could remember the ancestors of our two clans had formed an alliance, which was called off by my father only a few years before his death. My father's unknown reasons to disestablish the partnering of our clans only put my on further edge in concerns to this stranger. For all I knew Konoha should have been my enemy.
"Relax. Despite the separation of our clans I still believe there to be a close relationship between us. I am trustworthy."
She slyly remarked and held her hand out in offer for me to shake it and accept peace. I was not one to be easily coerced into trust.
"Attempting to convince me to trust you has only severed to make me more suspicious."
She laughed and took back her hand.
"Well, I helped you didn't I? You're still alive; you've got all your limbs, all your weapons and even all of your little trinkets. That means something doesn't it?"
She pointed to a pile of items in the corner of the room, which Uzumaki-san proceeded to fetch for her at her beck. I caught his limp as he stumbled over to them. I'd forgotten that he had been injured during our escape. I didn't feel guilty, knowing that as long as he could still walk he must not have been wounded badly enough to be concerned about him. He placed my belongings beside my futon, similar to how a priest would lay an offering to the Gods. I looked to see all of my belongings along with the filthy jacket that I had stolen. I rummaged through the lot for one item in particular. There it was, slipped into my shoe after it must have fallen from my pocket. The small wooden box. I snatched it quickly and held it to my chest, once again regaining that sense of purpose that didn't make me feel so useless as I was. So long as this object was in my possession I still had a mission to fulfil.
My gun and kunai lay among the folds of my clothes as well. My bullet pouch had even been refilled. Although I was still untrustworthy of this woman, I grew less cautious to feel the weapon in my hand.
"Thank you for your hospitality."
I mumbled while examining my shirt to see the extent of damage. The silk was torn in several places, lined with blood and moist dirt. I would have to buy a new one. I heard a feminine laugh outside of my train of thought.
"Hold up! You two are having a conversation without me and now I'm really confused!"
The whining of the male next to her strayed my attention back to him. His blond hair was even messier now that he'd pulled at it in his confusion of the conversation he hadn't been a part of. Brushing off her dress with a mocking laugh Tsunade closed the cap on the pills and stood up.
"Sasuke, would you mind telling Naruto the rest of the story. I've got to dash off again."
"Actually, I'm not comfortable with-"
"Great. Stay in bed. I'll be back in a few hours."
She took the damn pills with her when she left the room. Two would only numb me so much and they weren't taking effect fast enough. I swore to myself that as soon as I escaped the shit shack of an apartment the first thing I'd do is rob a pharmacy.
I flinched when I noticed the bright blue eyes staring longingly at me. I shakily turned my head to him, feeling my frown twitch dangerously on my lips. His cheeks were puffed, as though all the annoying questions he was about to ask were overflowing into his mouth. And sure enough, as soon as that gob opened they all came spewing out.
"-do you use kunais and shuriken and stuff? How come you have a gun? That's not very Ninja-like. And the thugs after you had guns as well. Were they Ninja too? I thought Ninjas were supposed to wear those black pyjamas, not suits. Were you trained at an old fashion dojo too? Were there Ninja monks-"
"I'm not at liberty to answer any of your questions."
I growled, rubbing at a particularly sore bruise on my thigh thigh that I didn't remember receiving.
"Huh? Why not?"
"Tsunade's clan has been disbanded, meaning that her oath has been made redundant, but I am still active and am sworn to secrecy."
He huffed and slammed his hand on the futon, unintentionally jostling my wounded body. I listened carefully to hear a door close in another room of the apartment. From the sound I deducted that the door was heavy with a lock; most likely the front door. My estimate was confirmed when I heard the clack of cork heels patter down metal stairs of the apartment complex. Tsunade had left, which meant that it was time to make my move while it was only the buffoon that was left to guard me.
I pulled the blankets and slowly worked my legs back to life, feeling the sting in my feet as my circulation regulated. I tucked the Sharingan into my jacket pocket before I put it on. I would just have to bear travelling without a shirt for a while until I could buy a new one. All this while, Uzumaki-san was still talking. He just wouldn't shut up.
"-and that's just not fair. I mean, you can't just tempt someone with that kind of information and then take it away. I already know the basics of all this Ninja crap. So, surely it wouldn't hurt to-"
He finally noticed me pulling my suit trousers on over my bandaged thighs and knees, fretting every time I bent my legs and agitated a wound. I'd never been injured so seriously before, so I wasn't used to this kind of pain. I was skilled enough that I never received any more than scrapes and a few sprains in battle. This whole situation was a huge strain to my pride and I wanted to escape while the hospitality that was shown to me only reminded me of my failure in battle that caused such injuries.
"What are you doing?"
He spoke while I pulled my legs beneath me so to have a better chance of standing on my weak legs.
"I am leaving. Do you have a phone?"
"Get back in bed, Sasuke. I don't want to have to hit you."
It seemed he would not give up without a fight. The look on his face told me so. Arched brows, lips tightly shut and his hands that were poised to grab me once I stood. I would have restrained him or locked him in a cupboard had I been at good strength. But, being practically an invalid, I used the lazy escape route.
"Shit."
He whispered as I held my loaded gun to his forehead, digging into his skin when he refused to move back from it. As I threat I took off the safety and cocked it, being thoroughly entertained by the different expressions he made.
"May I use your phone, please."
He nodded dumbly and scrambled like a panicked insect for a phone that was buried beneath all of the rubbish on his desk. After he shakily handed it to me he sat back down beside me; quite a strange thing to do considering I just held a gun to his head.
I didn't trust this woman, Tsunade. Whether this was her home or not I was suspicious that her phones may be tapped. Either intentionally by her or without her knowing. Either way, if I were to be careless about using the phone then I would put myself and my brother in serious danger.
The phone was wireless, which complicated the matter of examining it. But it didn't matter all that much. The dial tone was clear and without any static or change in volume, a sign that a third party was not currently listening in. But that still left the possibility of the phone having recording equipment installed into it. So, I began to unscrew both the speaker and the microphone, all the while keeping an eye on Uzumaki-san who sat there watching me.
"What are you doing now?"
"I'm checking for bugs."
I'd answered automatically when asked the question, and regretted it a moment later when he took my response as a sign of me wanting to engage him in conversation.
"Of course. Stealthy ninjas like you spare trust for no one. They fight alone with only their weapons as their deadly companions. And when-"
"Stop spouting nonsense, please."
I bit out and reassembled the device once satisfied with my inspection. Just in case I missed anything I would make sure to keep the conversation as vague as possible. No locations or names would be revealed. All I needed to know was whether Itachi was safe. My brother may be abnormally skilled, but he is still human, and a chest injury as serious as his was it not something to overlook to easily.
Intent on preparing to leave after my phone call I took my first attempt to stand, which was soon to be a failure. They way I had bent my leg to plant my foot on the floor stretched the gaping bullet wound in my hip, agitating the menial wire stitches that had been used to hold it closed. I cursed and lunged forward back onto my knees, putting pressure on the wound so to numb the pain.
"See why ya' should of stayed in bed? You're gonna rip the stitches!"
I sighed in relief when the pain ebbed back into a dull ache and then tried to stand once again, using much more caution to my movements and taking my time to brace my weight on my legs. I closed my eyes so to stop the room from spinning and retain my balance. From lying down for so long it felt like I was much higher from the ground than I actually was, my legs feeling long and unsteady stilts that just about managed to balance the weight of my torso.
Uzumaki-san sat with his legs unfurled in anticipation to catch me if I were to fall. He obviously had little knowledge of my endurance.
"Would you mind going into the other room, please? This call is private."
He choked on his own saliva, making a squeal of disbelief at my request.
"Are you kidding? I'm your hostage, you can't take your eyes off me. I could easily escape and call the police."
I laughed and caressed the barrel of my gun. I thought I'd never get to practice the Uchiha's signature threatening eyes. I could easily play a smile across my lips while my dark eyes would speak of a dark evil that I promised them.
"If you do then I'll just have to hunt you down. And when I do I will make sure to inflict much more pain than any bullet could. Besides, you won't get too far with that shoddy leg. I could easily catch up to you."
The threat worked its magic. He looked to my eyes, to my gun, to the door, and then back to my eyes. Then he finally wobbled onto his feet and headed out the door, calling over his shoulder.
"Fine, I'm goin'. Prissy bastard. No matter how scary you think you are you will never match up to Obaa-chan."
My smile died on my lips once he closed the door behind him. Instantly I dialled the memorised phone number and prayed that I would receive an answer. Kisame's deep, powdery voice settled my nerves.
"Yes."
He answered simply. With a sigh I replied
"It's me."
He knew who it was from my voice.
"I am glad to hear that you're alright."
"I feel the same about you. How is he?"
"He is alive."
He replied after a pause, which told me that my brother wasn't in top condition, but at least he wasn't dead. Kisame continued before I could respond.
"Where are you?"
"Safe"
"Mmm, very well."
My response told him that it may not be safe to talk, and he understood what I meant. Now it came to the difficult matter; making my plans and informing Kisame without actually revealing any names or locations. A difficult task when we were most likely on opposite sides of town, with no house to return to or meeting place. There was a very small chance that we would be reunited without being put in danger. Any safe house that we had devised in Tokyo had been most probably been infiltrated by Orochimaru at this point. We had very few trustworthy allies. Most people were eager to hand us over to the government for the reward, or kill us themselves in hopes to gain a reputation. So, from what plan I could devise, our only option was to work our way out of Tokyo, to some place where we were lesser known. Only one place came to mind.
"In three weeks, you will find me with my uncle."
"I don't think that is wise decision, sir. If your brother were conscious he would strongly oppose to you being there, I am sure of it."
"Speak now if you have a better suggestion. If not then we shall follow through with my plan."
Silence followed. I huffed with satisfaction, knowing that my decision had been right.
"I thought so."
I muttered. I gathered my shoes from the floor and began slowly approaching the door to leave while continuing to speak.
"You won't be able to reach me until then and I will only contact you in an emergency, so if you have anything else to say then say it now."
There came a moment of silence on the other end of the phone before a melancholy laugh rose from the speaker.
"Sir was sick with worry when he was awake. You best be safe for his sake."
I tried my best not to smile at the mentioning of my overly protective sibling.
"I will see you in three weeks."
"Until then."
I hung up the phone, feeling anxious and regretful. Although I knew I had taken the only option, I still wondered if it was too late to call back and change our meeting arrangements. My Uncle, Uchiha Madara, was my mother's brother. An unearthly being that I could recall from my earliest memories to be...uncomely, to say the least. He would frighten any child in his presence, myself included when my father would bring me to his home to see him at every chance that I had when I wasn't at school. I could never recall what it was like in his home. My memory was patchy concerning him. But at this point in time, I could think him no further than being the only option of sanctity where my brother and I could be reunited.
"So, visiting your uncle then?"
I came face to face with Uzumaki-san before I had even reached for the handle of the door. I sneered at him when I handed him back to phone.
"You certainly have a keen sense of hearing."
I muttered. His smile told me that his took no notice of the spite or suspicion in my voice.
"Yep. I'm like a fox that way."
I nodded and pushed past him, buttoning up the oversized jacket to cover up what I could of my chest. He trailed behind me to the front door, impressively keeping up with my speed despite his limp.
"You know, Tsunade's going to be back in a little while and she won't let you go until you're rested for at least a few weeks."
"Then I best leave as soon as I can then."
"I'll make her chase after you if you do!"
Even with his leg all bandaged up he still managed to get in front of me to block my path to the door. With a growl I pushed past him, only to have him grab my arm and pull me back.
"You shouldn't even be standing up let alone running around town and dodging bullets again. You'll die before you even get to the bottom of the stairs."
He held such determination in his voice. It was refreshing to see someone so noble in the kind of modern society that we lived in. From the feeling of his fingers digging into my arm I could tell that I would not easily be able to throw off his grip. So I just waited with a smouldering glare to his bright blue eyes for him to let go. But he didn't. With a sigh he motioned back to his room with the futon.
"Don't go out there like that. Let me at least get you some clothes. You look like a dirty male prostitute in that jacket."
I didn't struggle when he pulled me back to his room. I even took the lead at some point and leant against the desk while he rummaged through the wardrobe. From what little I could see of his style of clothes I could tell that I would most likely be pinned with a bright commercial t-shirt and some baggy teenage jeans. People would think that I was having some kind of mid life crisis if they saw me dressed like that.
The actual result wasn't actually too bad. He must have taken what little he knew of my personality into account when he chose suitable clothes for me. A pair of dark straight leg jeans and a plain blue button down shirt was handed to me, and I quickly set about changing, ignoring the glances he gave to my body as I removed the filthy jacket.
"You know, if you had some kind of body guard with you then I wouldn't be so worried about you being out there."
If I wasn't halfway through I buttoning up my shirt I would have grabbed my gun on the desk and forced him to shut up. He sighed in a sarcastic way and crossed his arms.
"If only you could find someone strong to protect you. It would be good if they had a little bit of medical training too, to help maintain your wounds."
It obviously frustrated him when I ignored the hints that he gave me, because when I turned my back to him he actually circled the room so to get back into my line of view.
"And, it might help if they were blond and handsome as well. On a long journey it's always nice to have something pretty to look at to entertain-"
"You can stop talking now. I get what you are hinting at and the answer is a definite no."
I spoke calmly with an assertiveness in my voice; the same kind of voice that a mother would use on a learning toddler. I grabbed my gun and tucked it into the jeans. The pockets were tight enough to make sure that the precious box I carried wouldn't fall out of them no matter how reckless I was, but other than the pockets every other aspect of the item of clothing was one size too big. Uzumaki-san came up beside me and dramatically spread his arms in a theatrical gesture to ask 'why'.
"I would be an awesome companion to have! You have to let me come with you! I kick ass, I can get you healthy again and I don't even need any luggage. Just the shirt on my back and my fists...and the pants on my legs...and a few clean pairs of underwear...also some money would be smart to bring along...and my car, which means that I'll also have to take my car keys-"
When he caught me ignoring him and moving to leave he sprung to the door and held his hands on opposite sides of the doorway and affectively acted as a barrier between me and my escape. I didn't have time for this, that woman could be returning any minute and I was stuck scolding a stranger. With a growl I took out my gun once more and aimed it for those baby blue eyes. He didn't move instantly, and I found myself grinding my teeth in frustration.
"Move aside."
"Why can't I come with you?"
"Move aside"
His eyes hardened and I saw his hands clench on the door frame.
"Shoot me if you want. I'm not movin' out of the way."
Neither of us made a move for a moment. He was stubbornly holding his ground, thinking I was bluffing, while I was debating whether I would seem ungrateful to my saviour if I were to shoot him in the face.
"Think about it Sasuke. It'll be smart to take me along. If you run into those guys again that hip wound especially is gonna slow you down tenfold, and it's not like you could drive in your condition either. I can drive you there and fend off those ass faces."
"I'm insulted that you think of me defenceless enough to desire protection from someone like you."
"Then don't think of it that way. I'm like the Robin to your Batman. Batman is still awesome and kicks serious ass, but sometimes he needs Robin to hand him his weapon when he drops it."
I clicked my tongue at his immature comparison of our situation. But, as much as I loathed to my very core to admit it, he held a very solid case. I'm not deluded enough to overlook my limits, and escaping to the other side of Japan as a wounded man with probably thousands of people wanting my blood is something that perhaps not even I would be able to do. At least, I wouldn't be able to do it alone.
"You'll take me part way."
I hesitantly withdrew my gun, still feeling that lingering urge to at least pistol whip that smug face of his.
"I won't hesitate to kill you if I get sick of your company."
He laughed and waved his hand in dismissal of my threat. He looked to excited to be willingly putting his life in danger to help a stranger.
"Yeah, of course. I'll make sure not to bother you or anything."
I put my gun back into the waist of the jeans I wore and stepped back to allow him access to his room.
"I'm leaving this very second, so you best get yourself ready."
"Yeah, of course, I've just got to write a note to Obaa-chan in case she thinks we got abducted or something."
He pranced over the filthy piles of clothes on the floor to gather his things while I waited by the front door. He emerged moments later with two rucksacks. I warned him that he would only need necessities, and if we needed anything else then I could just buy it on the way. But my advice fell on deaf ears as he fished through one of the rucksacks for his car keys.
He pinned the poorly scribbled note to the inside of the front door before we headed down the stairs. I already knew that I would very swiftly tire of this man, but it relaxed me to know that I could shoot him without feeling too guilty. I had warned him after all, and it might even be necessary to kill him at the end of the journey so that he doesn't leak any information to anyone.
"So, where am I gonna be driving to?"
"Osaka."
"Osaka?"
He squeaked and paused mid step on the way to his car. I swiftly spun around so to communicate with body language that 'if he had any complaints then he could just tell them to the priest at his funeral'. I saw his Adam's apple bob on his thick, veined neck and he swiftly shut his mouth, his teeth audibly clacking together.
"Uh...right. Osaka it is, then."
He stuttered and overtook me to unlock the vehicle. Just as he was about to open the passenger side door for me, like some kind of chivalrous gentlemen would do for a lady, I punched at his shoulder, signalling him to get out my way. With the look of a pouting child he rubbed at his bruised shoulder and circled the car to get in the drivers seat.
The automobile was a shoddy piece of work. The leather seats were torn with deep grooves from oversized or boisterous passengers.
"How about some music?"
He laughed and turned the radio on to some cheesy J-rock while he started up the car. I turned it off seconds later and rested my head against the cool of the window.
Whew, a short and kind of pointless character, but you know. Setting the story is kind of important, and there is importance in this scene. The little flashbacks throughout will all make sense further on in the fic, don't worry if you'r confused.
A rare occurrance has happened with this fic. I actually have planned out what's going to happen instead of winging it like I usually do, but i might do an alternate ending thing because i can't make up my mind on what's going to happen. But I think it will be good.
There's going to be about fifteen long chapters in total and, i'm sorry to say, it's going to be more about drama, action and developing romance than steamy sex scenes. But there will be a few, don't worry ;) I've gotten over my shyness now.
So, I hope you stick with this fic until it gets to the drama and don't judge it too quickly from these chapters.
Reviews are verrry much appreciated
Bed_Of_Nails_And_Sandpaper
xx