Author's Note:
Once again, apologies for any spelling and grammatical errors.
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Chapter 2:
"Hi there," Elaine whispered softly, "I'm going to help you, if you don't mind."
When Elaine had discovered the violently shaking, foaming-at-the-mouth, redhead in her backyard, she wasn't sure what to think. At first, she was struck by a bolt of familiarity, then a dash of hesitancy, and finally, a wave of decisiveness- she was a nurse's daughter for godsake- that drove her to take out her phone and start Google searching seizures.
"Alright, cushion their head," she muttered aloud, if only to hear herself think, "Okay, okay. I can do that."
Her hands hovered above the stranger- he was painstakingly attractive; too beautiful for someone experiencing a seizure. His hair was an unnatural ruby-colored mop that lightly brushed his shoulders, surrounding his angled, pale face and eyes.
She took an extra long moment to look deeply into those eyes of his, reading them; they were a deep, chocolate brown and absolutely devoid of life and light- hauntingly vacant as they were beautiful. While she gazed at him, he stared past her, not even realizing she was there.
Gathering up her adolescent hormones- oops, I dropped some- and pride, Elaine looked away. How sexually deprived must she be: examining and fawning over the prone form of (an admittedly god-like) young man!
She could consult her sexuality later; it was time to concentrate on the task at hand.
Support the head, Elaine repeated.
Shifting from her current position to sit on her knees, Elaine proceeded with that in mind. Her fingers weaved themselves into the boy's clothing- rags, she noted with the raise of a brow- before hauling his head onto her thighs.
She tried to ignore the romantic notion behind the gesture; watching the clouds with your boyfriend splayed on your lap. There was absolutely nothing romantic about her situation- a boy was twitching and foaming onto her shorts for godsakes!
Whipping out her cell phone, Elaine looked at her next direction.
"I have to position him onto his side..."
With him still on her lap, Elaine reached underneath his shoulderblades, only pausing as a horrifying scream emitted from his throat, taking hold of and vibrating the world around her. Various colors; the blues, greens, yellows, and reds of her surroundings blurred together, swirling and mixing in tandem before settling back into their original places within seconds.
If she had blinked, she would have missed it. "What the hell-"
Suddenly, his hands flew to his throat, stealing away her attention. His fingernails were raking violently at the white of his throat, demolishing the skin until it was raw and red, blistering and flowing with blood.
"Stop!" Elaine grabbed to restrain him- bad move, and he lashed out; shouting and clawing blindly at her, procuring bleeding scratches along her arms and neck.
After a moment, Elaine pulled away from his destructive power. Panting with little bouts of pain radiating through her body, she gave herself a critical once over, examining all of her abrasions. The injuries she sustained were nothing laughable- Sleeping Beauty had done a number on her, however she found herself more concerned with the redhead and his wounds.
Looking back over, the boy had resumed his self-directed assault. If she didn't somehow constrict his violent movements- or ease his mind, he would only continue to unconsciously attack himself.
With little options left, Elaine stretched out a hand tentatively, intertwining her fingers with the boy's nimble ones. He gripped her hand tightly, hard enough to leave bruises, but she hardly cared. The results were worth it, as the redhead, still convulsing and shaking in her lap, calmed significantly, apparently comforted by their conjoined hands.
She wasn't sure how long they sat there; he finally unconscious and she too scared to disturb him. Yet, when the sun began setting and night quickly fell upon them, Elaine decided it was time to head inside.
Slipping his head from her lap, she rose unsteady onto sleepy legs, wobbling to the shed and unlatching the lock on the door. She poked around, tossing rollerskates and shovels until she found the snow sled. Dragging the sled til it sat beside the redhead, Elaine haphazardly rolled the boy's prone form onto it.
This, she mused, pulling the sled toward her home, is how you catch yourself a man.
It wasn't until she spilled the half-naked redhead onto her bed that she started to think coherently about her situation. What type of girl went around dragging epileptic (half-NAKED) boys into her bedroom at night? She had to get him out; her mother would kill her and ask questions later.
Pacing from one end of her bedroom to the next, Elaine considered loading her patient back onto the sled and taking him right back outside where she could continue to discreetly treat him in the shed. She was finalizing these plans, mumbling aloud the antibiotics she would need to treat his neck when the shuffling of bedcovers grabbed her full attention.
Her patient was awake.
Mesmerizing brown eyes trained on her, Elaine felt her heart flutter into her throat. To function at her highest, he would have to stop that.
She needed to sit down. "Don't just stare at me like that."
Walking over to the desk chair, which had been whirled around to face her bed, she took a seat and stared him down, conjuring up enough false confidence to smirk.
"I may have just saved your life," she gloats, spinning lightly in her chair, "You should really carry medicine for epilepsy though, you know."
From the boy's mouth spilled a series of jumbled words she couldn't comprehend, and before she knew it, his eyes were retreating back into his skull.
Unbelievable!
"H-Hey, kid!" Elaine scurried to his bedside, her hands seizing and shaking his shoulders violently in an endeavor to rouse him back into consciousness, "Don't you dare you mother-fucking asshole!"
It was no use however; her redheaded patient was under.
It was about 3 a.m. when the redhead stirred again. Elaine was finally settling down for the night, or what was left of it at least, growing increasingly comfortable in her makeshift bed on the floor when she grew acutely aware of the pair of eyes burning into her back from across the room. At first, she didn't move- what would she say? What if he passed out again?
Thankfully, she didn't have to say anything.
"Who are you?" His voice was low and raspy, probably from the damage he'd done on his throat earlier. She turned over to meet his gaze, observing him; dark bags, like mementos of his ordeal, hanging underneath his eyes.
"Elaine," she answered, fighting back a yawn. God, she was tired. "How are you feeling?"
"Too much," the young man grunted, leaving Elaine puzzled. She decided not to ask, and he continued, "What dimension is this?"
"Dimension?" She echoed disbelievingly. What is he talking about?
The redhead sighed impatiently, "Well, judging by the lack of chakra here, it would seem that I am not in my own."
Chakra, Elaine mused, smirking, like from Naruto? Was this kid on something? Did he hit his head too? Whatever it was, he was obviously disillusioned.
Begrudgingly, she shrugged off the covers and stood up, slipping on some sneakers. "Dude, I think you need to get to a hospital..."
If luck was on their side, they could slip out of the house and no one would ever know what had transpired. To top it off, she could just leave the crazy boy in a hospital bed and wipe her hands clean of him for-
In a second, the redhead's hand was at her throat. His speed was unreal, and his grip on her neck, despite her squirming, was like iron.
"You will address me as Sasori," he breathed, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Elaine froze, unable to move for a number of unspeakable reasons. "-and I do not NEED a hospital. What I NEED are answers. Which, if you are unable to supply me with..." A knife slid out from his sleeve, which the redhead deftly caught without batting an eye, "Makes you disposable. Do you understand, little girl?"
Elaine nodded. She understood alright. Understood that Sasori- a fictionalized, S-ranked criminal- was pinning her to a wall by the neck and threatening her with a knife. She stared at him, trying to dissociate him from the manga character she had sympathized with, yet the more she did stare, the more could see his eerie resemblance to him.
There were so many things wrong with this situation, the biggest being his impossible existence in the first place.
"H-Holy shit," Elaine pushed past him, stumbling to the bed and observing him from the across the room. It was really him... "Did I hit my head? Am I the crazy one here?"
"Calm down, girl," Sasori commanded, barely keeping the irritated edge from his tone. Her behavior was becoming exhausting.
Suddenly, Elaine bolts to the closet near her door, rummaging through it for her single, and only, Naruto manga. It was the chapter right before the timeskip, a winged and demented-looking Sasuke on the cover.
"I'm not sure what you'd call this 'dimension'," she says, plucking the manga from its shelf, "But you're not supposed to be real in it."
Tossing the book to Sasori, he catches it easily and begins flipping through it. Familiar faces pasted on the pages immediately catch his eye; some being the pink-haired brat before she became a destructive powerhouse, the colorblind Kyuubi host and Itachi's younger, less-talented brother. It was surreal, seeing a piece of his world- the things he knew and didn't know- printed in a small book.
After a moment, he looked up. "Are there more?"
Elaine nodded, yawning, "You can read them online. If you want, I can pull them up for you..."
Sasori shook his head, "No. Now go to sleep, you look awful."
What happened to his world before, or after his death, was none of his concern. He was already dead; nothing would change that. His only focus now would be finding out what his purpose in this world was, and then, accomplishing it. Nothing else mattered aside from making sure his second chance at life was not in vain.
He was sent here for a reason- maybe even sent to her for a reason.
This time he would not mess up.