"Quick, he's coming!"

"Did you finish putting the balloons up?!"

"No time for that now, fool! Get behind the couch!"

Rustle, rustle, bang. Pop.

"Oww!"

"You're on my foot!"

"Get off my arm!"

"Shut up!"

Hearing all the commotion from the other side of the front door I hesitated to turn the key, holding it suspended in the lock, wondering if it was worth stepping foot inside or not. In the face of what sounded like a pitiful attempt at a surprise party I leaned slightly more towards the idea of not going inside. I contemplated this for a moment, weighing up my options.

Really, I can imagine now the effort involved on my behalf and it is not particularly appealing. Fake surprise, unwanted hugs and kisses and insincere greetings, music, presents, cheesy decorations and music and lets not forget the cake and candles. Who could forget that? I pondered on this, dread in my belly. On one hand I wanted to get back in my car and drive as far away as possible and not come back till morning - and on the other I wanted to get inside and go into my big warm bed because I was oh so tired. It was early in the evening but I was entering the realm of 'beyond exhaustion' with much haste. The very comforting thought of my bed beckoned me.

Maybe I could get away with the headache excuse, an inch of truth always makes the lie harder to spot. They'd believe me – Oh don't make yourself sick on our account Sasuke…please, feel free to go to bed. How I wish that any of them possessed a modicum of mercy.

Christ, I thought to myself while gripping my key, which halfwit, brain-dead moron told them this was a good idea? Maybe it was some sort of joke? I didn't like parties, I didn't like surprises and I hadn't been excited by my birthday since I was 8.

I took a deep breath, hoping for the best and turned the key. Stepping inside into the darkness I slipped off my shoes and took a moment to steady myself (for the social onslaught) before flipping the light switch.

"SURPRISE!!!"

Needless to say, I was not surprised.

My eyes, aching momentarily while adjusting to the change in light were met with an explosion of colour that looked rather out of place in my otherwise dull living room. People of all shapes and sizes jumped out from behind the sofa, the armchairs and (for some reason) the tables, arms waving madly. Balloons and streamers of assorted shapes and colours were stuck to the wall and scattered over the floor and as my eyes roved upwards I noticed a ridiculously large custom banner reading: "Happy 18th Sasuke".

The real surprise was that anyone had bothered the effort. Maybe it was some sort of intervention thing.

Before I could utter any words of fake surprise or headache my person was violently assaulted by a hysterical woman who squeezed my torso within an inch of my life. It took me less than two seconds to get over the attack and realise it was only Sakura and this was her normal greeting. It took me another two seconds to wonder why she was here and not four hours away at her home.

"Happy Birthday, Sasuke!" she cried into my chest, crushing my lungs. The rest of my guests were staring expectantly at me, grinning eagerly, wondering if they had succeeded, wondering what my first words would be.

"…You can let go now."

Awkward silence.

"…Oh, right," she stepped back and looked at my face, trying to read my expression with the others. Success? Failure?

Cough. Snicker. Hack.

I looked at them blankly. "Um…how unexpected…"

"This is where we've put all your presents and this is where dinner is going to be and this is…"

It was five minutes into the celebration and I was already prepared to sneak away to bed. The greetings were painstakingly done, the congratulatory slaps on the back were given and the ear splitting, house thudding music had started. After that Naruto had then taken it upon himself to show me around my home and the things they had done to it - With Itachi's careful supervision of course, as he had said, "This is a birthday party, not some rave."

Oh Itachi, you've been out of the loop too long.

The mosaic decorations extended far beyond the living room into the kitchen, dining room, stair rail and downstairs bathroom. Not even the toilet seat was safe. While I secretly thought it was all a bit of an eyesore I was still rather surprised at the effort put into the party, from the oversized mountain of gifts to the banners to the buffet of food that was waiting to be consumed at the dining table. A lot of thought had obviously been put into the cooking – kitsune udon (vegan dashi), tofu soba, plain rice onigiri, vegetable tempura, amongst other dishes. All vegetarian and (relatively) low calorie – I wonder if that was done on purpose, the low calorie bit. Was that to prevent making a scene or a once off compromise? Or both or neither?

"Wow, look at that huge present, who bought you that?" Naruto rambled off distractedly, moving towards and leering jealously at he had been dubbed the 'present table'. "Oh, Shino. Shit, I wonder what's in there…"

He made a move to grab it, no doubt to shake it, before I grabbed his hand, twisting it back slightly.

"Don't even think about it."

He poked his tongue out and frowned. "Why not?"

"It's rude."

He rolled his eyes. As if I hadn't just abused it he interlinked his fingers on the hand I just assaulted with mine and exchanged his frown for a knowing grin, like a child caught out with his hand in the cookie jar. "Fun sucker."

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, less interested in the gifts than I was the inner workings behind them. "So who's idea was this?"

Not letting go of my hand he pulled me over to a chair and we sat facing each other. Rubbing my cold hands with his own he twisted his mouth side to side as he recalled the perpetrators. "I dunno…I think I thought of it first or maybe it was Kiba or Neji."

"Ah - "

" - No wait, not Neji." He interrupted. "…I don't remember. Haha."

"Aren't you helpful."

"Sorry."

I shook my head and yawned, the artificial warmth bursting from the ducted heating was making me more drowsy, if it were possible. I rubbed my eyes with my free hand, willing myself to stay awake for a little while longer. In retrospect I considered that it probably wouldn't be appropriate if the guest of honour disappeared after five minutes into the festivities. Probably. I wonder if I could….? No. It was a manners thing.

"You tired?" The blond asked softly but loud enough to be heard over the head pounding music. I shook my head again and baby blue eyes looked into mine intently, concerned.

"You staying the night?" I changed the subject.

"Do you want me to?"

"Do you care if I do or don't want you to?"

"Nope."

That was the end of that, as it often was. I yawned again, unintentionally slumping my shoulders as Itachi walked into the room and joined us at the dining table. Suddenly, irrationally, I didn't feel in the mood for my self-imposed In-Home Nurse as buried resentment began to rise to the surface before I could stop it. Naruto raised an eyebrow at my change in demeanour and squeezed my hand tighter.

"How's your day been?" He asked, pouring himself a glass of water from the jug on the table, acting perfectly normal (because he is). "Want one?"

I shook my head no, again rubbing my eyes. "It's been fine."

"How was school?"

"Fine."

"Got homework?"

"No."

The older Uchiha frowned at my uncalled-for, standoffish behaviour and held up a hand to my forehead with professional-like ease. I almost knew what he was going to say before he said it. Concerned face, rigid posture, tight frown - like an open book.

"You're cranky. Have you eaten today?"

"Yes," I snapped, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from my forehead. I chanced a glance at Naruto who looked torn between amusement at the domestics and looking like he didn't want to get in the middle of it. I didn't blame him.

"I was just asking," the older Uchiha retracted, scowl deepening. If I were to be honest, he probably didn't deserve he rude way in which I was treating him. But my mouth ran away with my frustration before I could catch them.

"No, you were checking," I retorted, knowing I was veering dangerously on the edge of well you can't exactly be trusted territory. That was a whole other argument that had been done to death. It began with me being dubbed untrustworthy and it ended with me needing to regain that trust. How I loathed those stupid, stupid arguments. Nevertheless he threw his hands up in surrender, and looked away from my harsh glare. He wanted to be the adult and stop the fighting before it started. I hated when he did that.

Naruto cleared his throat and fanned his face with a napkin. "Whew, is it warm in here or is it just me…"

With a feeling of unease collecting in my shoulders I grabbed two cucumber sushi rolls and placed them on a plate in front of me, 220 calories. "Happy?"

He gave a small smile that didn't quite match the look in his eyes and stood up. "I'll leave you guys to it."

With those brief words lingering he walked away towards the front door – probably to have a smoke. I groaned internally at the mini drama I had just created.

The other boy let out a low whistle and gave me a look. "Awkward."

Standing up and stretching I made sure to give him an unimpressed stare. I'd have to sort this out before the night was through, before it morphed into a bigger, uglier drama. I don't think I could be bothered putting up with it. I hated soap operas.

I closed the front door behind me and wrapped my arms around my trembling frame, despite the still night air. The porch sensor light flicked on and the front yard was illuminated yellow. Just as I'd thought, Itachi was sitting on the highest porch step and was on what looked like his second cigarette – if I couldn't see it I could certainly smell it. I braved sitting next to him without knowing the state of his temper. Fingers and toes crossed. Stay calm, don't get shitty. I cleared my throat.

"……"

"……"

"…Hey…"

"……"

"…Sorry."

"……"

"……"

He let out a smoky breath, dark eyes peering at me from his peripheral vision. "What for?" he asked testily. No shouting yet, so far so good.

"Being a headcase."

He let out a low laugh and flicked the excessive ash from his cancer stick. "You're not a headcase, Sasuke."

I refrained from scoffing. "That's debatable." I once didn't brush my teeth for nearly a week because I was convinced that there were calories in the toothpaste. Another time I locked myself in my room all day and night because I got the sudden idea that there were calories in the air (I hadn't slept or eaten for two days and was quite delirious). I wasn't in a straitjacket yet but there was no point in trying to convince me that I had a clean bill either.

"So, no more animosity?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Short and sweet. After all, neither of us had any use in getting caught with grudges for such pedantic matters. Maybe when we were younger but now it wasn't important. He ruffled the back of my hair affectionately; heartily ignoring the look he received for doing so. "You look like shit," he commented while putting out his cigarette. "Why don't you go to bed?"

"What, and miss the cake?" I asked sarcastically, standing up. Following my movements, Itachi brushed the dirt off his work pants and giving me a strange look. He commented on my morbid sense of humour.

I shrugged and we headed back inside. Disaster averted.

"No, you're not listening to me. That new kid is a chick!" argued the boy with tattooed cheeks, pounding a fist on the table.

"He's a boy," drawled the pony-tailed teen, resting his face in his palm.

"Girl!"

"Hermaphrodite?" offered another.

"……"

"That's so politically incorrect…"

I resisted the incredibly strong desire to roll my eyes at the uncouth display of simultaneous eating and talking. I was almost impressed by their ability to do both at the same time without all their food falling from their mouths – but then I remembered the concept of table manners and found it a bit vulgar. Table manners are important; it's a sign of a good upbringing and a sure indicator you're not a complete delinquent. I wasn't a complete delinquent.

No, I was just a moody, broody antisocial teenager with mental problems, but it all evens out I think.

I picked at the slice of vanilla flavoured cake sitting delicately on the plastic plate in front of me, wondering why I was still awake. Today had been a good day, food wise, mind wise. I was coping, I was dealing. Not to say that it was easy or that I didn't feel bad. In fact I felt horrible but I was well equipped to rationalise it out and put up with it today.

With my easily breakable plastic fork I broke off tiny pieces of the calorie laden sweet no bigger than glorified crumbs, putting them in my mouth and chewing. I'd scraped off all the icing, refused whip cream and I didn't even need to make up an excuse why I was eating it as if it was laced with poison.

For once there wasn't any arguments, no can't you just try, just another mouthful please Sasuke. I'd received plenty of encouraging smiles (which was slightly irksome) and a little less staring than usual, which was a change - pleasant and strange. I recalled Tsunade's advice from a session early this week.

You're allowed to celebrate your birthday, Sasuke. You won't gain weight from eating sweets, I promise. Like everyone else, it's all about moderation. Don't beat yourself up over it, okay?

Yet sitting here doing normal things, being treated like I was normal I wanted nothing more than to run upstairs and throw up all the contents of stomach to get rid of this feeling – and it made me feel as guilty as sin for even thinking it. Guilty for pretending to play happy, pretending to celebrate the fact that I was born, guilty for pretending I'm okay with appetizers and cake, guilty for indulging in them. Isn't 7 months of head shrinking supposed to fix that or something? Why can't I shake it off?

Tsunade was supposed to be my voice of reason amongst the voice of crazy but her rationalizing and logic thought didn't always apply to how I was feeling. Is that supposed to be one of those independent learning things where I was meant to sort through it myself and come up with the solution?

My attention slipped from these thoughts when my left shin was abruptly kicked. I turned my head in the direction and offered a raised eyebrow to Gaara, too lazy to form the words.

"Are we keeping you up?"

I shook my head no (was it really that obvious?). "Didn't you have to work tonight?" I asked, changing the subject, distracting both him and myself. Family business.

He shook his head and cleared his throat, placing his fork neatly on his plate. "Temari covered."

"How sweet," I replied wryly, knowing what that meant. "What's the catch?"

"Cake. Lots of it."

"Have at it."

"Kankuro wanted to come too," he continued, twisting his mouth distastefully at the thought of having his older brother tag along to a social gathering. I raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Changed his mind?"

He let out a low snort, picking up his fork again, stabbing a helpless half eaten slice of cake. "I told him we'd be playing musical chairs and truth or dare. He suddenly remembered something else he had to do. "

I smirked at his tactful avoidance of Big Brother Embarrassment, an experience I'm sure we often shared. With Kankuro's eccentricity and Itachi's old-fashioned sensibility they could certainly be considered a red-face inducing duo. I nodded my approval at his strategic prevention of public humiliation.

I am quite glad they never became friends.

"Oi," spoke Naruto to my right, poking my rib with one finger and pointing to my barely touched cake with the other. "Can I eat yours?"

I looked at the gluttonous boy from the corner of my eye, watching him pout while eyeing my fluffy sweet. I pretended to consider it for a moment.

"Hmm…" I murmured, putting a finger to my chin thoughtfully and just at the very moment he turned face became eager I went in for the kill. "Nope, sorry. I'm starving," I exaggerated and put a hand on my stomach.

His face dropped. "Prick."

I smirked and continued to eat the cake crumbs at my previously painfully slow pace. Although I never finished the whole slice I didn't throw up what I had eaten either, but God I'd wanted to like an itch I couldn't scratch. In letting some of my control go I never got rid of the feeling of guilt and indulgence (although it eased) – but most importantly the world didn't fall apart and the sky didn't fall down. Exhale.

"Happy Birthday, Sasuke."

I bowed, "Thank you for the gifts," I repeated for the nth time that night as the last of our guests left, Naruto waved and Itachi moved back inside and began the mammoth task of cleaning. Seeing the last drive off (like a good host) I closed the door behind us and joined Itachi, who was adding all the plastic utensils to a rapidly growing bag of garbage. Joining him, we tried to help. He shook us off.

"Don't worry about it, go to bed."

I refused, pouring remaining liquids into the kitchen sink and throwing out the plastic cups. This was another one of those manners things – Never leave one person to pick up after everyone else. Naruto followed suit, wrapping the leftover food in plastic and putting them away where they belonged.

"It's a school night," he insisted.

"We've got a late start tomorrow, it's fine. It's quicker this way."

And that was the end of that. We worked in silence for the next ten or so minutes, throwing away wrapping paper, half eaten food, rearranging the furniture until everything was back to normal. Once we were all satisfied that the job was done we said our goodnights and headed to our respective rooms. I knew Itachi had an early start and was just as eager to knock off as we were.

Closing my bedroom door behind us Naruto let out a big yawn. I undressed, leaving myself in a black wife beater and boxers, the night was rapidly cooling, I crawled under the covers.

There was a chill in the room, I noticed, turning my head I discovered I'd left the window open this morning.

"Close the window," I ordered the other boy absentmindedly, making sure my pillow was shaped properly, manners left downstairs. He scoffed at me but did it anyway and the room temperature slowly began to stabilise.

"Anything else, Princess?" He asked mockingly. I ignored him and turned to face the wall, my body giving up on caring. I felt the mattress dip behind me and a body settle next to me, shuffling here and there until it became comfortable.

"God, how do you sleep with all these blankets on you?" He complained, twisting his body to find a cool spot on the bed and throwing the blankets off himself. I hummed my amusement at his discomfort, too tired to from any real words. I was seemingly having trouble keeping my eyes open.

"You falling asleep?" He asked after a few minutes, voice clear in the otherwise silent room. I shifted deeper under the covers and tried to drown out his voice, wondering what the time was. Oh the joy of having an obnoxious boyfriend who unabashedly invites himself over - Why was he talking?

"Sasuke?"

"Mmm…"

"Are you falling asleep?" He repeated, louder. I gave up and shifted around to face him. I glared at his stupid face but the bags under my eyes significantly lessened the impact. It had nothing to do with his proclaimed immunity.

"Why?" I asked groggily, voice thickening with fatigue. "Did we forget to braid each others hair and paint each others nails?"

"No, we'll do that next time. I know how you like your nails to be all pretty."

I grunted in annoyance. "It was black marker and I was bored in class. I'm not telling you again."

"Sure, sure," he teased, grinning widely, "Maybe I should've paid for you to get a manicure instead."

I pinched the skin on his arm closest to me roughly (because reaching over further meant more effort). "Do you want to sleep on the floor?"

"You're so mean to me." I didn't even have to look at him to know that he was pouting. The chill of the room set in and I suppressed a shiver. Instead I took his share of the blankets, throwing them over me in haphazard heap of cotton, down and silk. Oh that was better. "So…did you have a good night?"

"Mmm," I replied vaguely for him to interpret however he wished. The warmth of the added layers had begun to lull my already exhausted body into a state of semi-sleep. Just a few more minutes.

"Did we really surprise you?"

"Mmm."

"So you wont kill us?"

I turned over so I was again facing the wall in my regular sleeping position. "Next time," I mumbled into my pillow. The mattress springs creaked and suddenly Narutos reliably warm body was pressed against my back. A kiss was placed on the nape of my neck and my skin tingled.

"G'night."

The heavy weight of exhaustion took over my body and I think I might have muttered something incoherent back but I don't remember. It was the first time in a long while that I went to sleep, not plagued by thoughts of the day.

I still felt remnants of the negative feelings from earlier, which I knew wouldn't disappear – but I think I'm maybe okay with that. I knew, in a more equal part of my mind that things wouldn't fall apart. This was my control.

Black sleep claimed me faster than it had in a long time.

This is most probably going to be the second last chapter of Orexis. Probably. I might get sudden inspiration and feel that this is not finished, but for now I absolutely feel that a transition is in order and this chapter basic function is to serve as a blank canvas for the upcoming transition.

There will absolutely be a sequel, maybe a one-shot so look out for it.