A/N: Feel like I've mentioned this before, but I'll mention it again: I do NOT endorse drinking or smoking, at any age. For the purpose of this story, however, I am trying to depict the sometimes sad reality of what teenagers get into when they're bored and trying to grow up. I speak from experience. That said, I do not encourage any of my readers to engage in binge drinking or any kind of substance use. Also speaking from experience (and having studied addiction), substance use is dangerous, even though it is very culturally accepted in both the West and Japan. If you're gonna do it, question why. And be careful.
Serious stuff aside: I am trying to limit the use of modern-day references and expletives like "Christ" and "Jesus," as some readers have pointed out that it's jarring in the context of Naruto. I get that. But I am continuing to use phrases like "oh my God," "God only knows," etc. because they're colloquial and don't strictly reference any deity. You know what Japanese people don't say? - "AA, WATASHI NO KAMI-SAMA!" Never. Not a thing. Doesn't translate. NOTHING UPSETS ME MORE than fics that use the word "Kami" in place of "God" as an interjection. GRINDS MY DAMN GEARS. I will click off the fucking story and never look back. I CAN'T HANDLE IT.
I am also not sorry for having electric instruments in a story that kind of takes place in an AU feudal Japan? I dunno, man. The technology in canon Naruto is bizarre af. Like, they don't have phones but they have movies? They have Ninja Skype but not regular computers? IT DOESN'T ADD UP. I could complain for days. But I won't. Here's a chapter - please enjoy. :)
CHAPTER 14: Nobody Really Cares If You Don't Go to the Party
Despite taking her time getting ready, Sakura returned to Ino's apartment to find only a smattering of other guests had arrived - none of whom were the target of her latest mission. 'Fashionably early' was total bullshit. Still, the others had wasted no time taking advantage of yet another chaperone-less affair. Ino, Choji, Kiba, and Tenten sat around the coffee table, wreathing a plastic cup with playing cards in a game that (based on all the yelling) seemed to entail a lot of rules that were both unyielding and highly debatable. Neji, Shikamaru, and Temari had taken over the couch and armchair and seemed engrossed in serious conversation, notably at odds with their peers and the syrupy pop music that engulfed the room. The so-called 'best party ever' looked more like an awkward family gathering, complete with children scrapping on the floor while the grown-ups did their damndest to ignore them.
For the first time it occurred to Sakura how absurd they all seemed, this group of teenagers feigning adulthood, drinking and cavorting as if most of them weren't going back to their parents' homes at the end of the night. They had always been warned that the shinobi lifestyle necessitated a quicker-than-usual maturation, but the scene she beheld hardly captured the word 'mature.' As a child she'd had a certain image of her future, but nowhere in her picket-fenced fantasies was she embroiled in a sex scandal or mass-murdering her own brain cells on a weeknight. She'd held greater aspirations, visions of a house and family, a good job, a sense of purpose - at least at one point. Thinking about it then she realized that this image had become vague and amorphous, like a watercolor painting viewed too close. She had a job, sure, an important one at that, and her own apartment, but the rest of the picture was disturbingly blank. She no longer knew what was missing - or whom - and she doubted she would find the answer at the bottom of Ino's punch bowl or on the patio at Rock Bar.
She jumped as the door burst open behind her, admitting Shino and Hinata (and, to both her annoyance and relief, no one else). They offered a passing greeting then joined the others in the circle, plastic cups in hand. As expected, the whole gang was filtering in to partake in the evening's debauchery, and not a single one of them seemed to have turned a simple party into an existential crisis. Sighing to herself, Sakura ladled out a serving of the ominous, red concoction and took a swig, flinching at the taste of sugar mixed with what could have been nail polish remover. If everyone was following this path, she mused, maybe it was the way to go. Rather than the destination itself, maybe this was the journey to adulthood, pretending you knew what you were doing, fucking around and finding out; playing with fire over and over again until you discovered how not to get burned. It might feel aimless at best, mortifying at worst, but she certainly didn't have any better guesses for the moment.
"Okay, new rule!" Ino proclaimed, flashing the King she'd drawn around the circle as Sakura joined them. "If you draw a King, you have to kiss someone of your choice."
"Weak!" Tenten groaned, rolling her eyes. Based on the glow in her cheeks, she was either excelling or failing miserably at the game. "You always choose kissing rules. Why can't we make it 'remove an item of clothing for every face card' or something."
"Uh, because there are a ton of face cards left and you're wearing like one layer," Kiba returned, snorting as he pinched Tenten's arm through her dress.
Yanking away, she glared at him even as a smile spread over her face. "Whatever. I would rather walk around naked for the rest of the night than make out with one of you clowns," she teased.
"The King has spoken!" Ino cried dramatically, slamming the card down. "You draw a King, you better mack on someone or I will spit in all your drinks."
"You might as well. Your saliva's gonna end up in everyone one way or another," Sakura mumbled, earning the trademark Ino glare. The others erupted in laughter.
"Just for that," her friend returned, grinning slyly, "you're my first victim." And before Sakura could blink, Ino's lips crashed against hers unceremoniously, and the laughter turned to juvenile cheers. A typical Ino party was indeed underway. "Now play the damn game or the next rule's gonna be 'everyone has to make out with Sakura.'"
Wiping the film of Ino's lip gloss off her face, Sakura relented and drew a card.
The experiment progressed slowly. After an hour the only deductions Sakura had made were that she sure wasn't attracted to Ino and that King's Cup was invented by people who hated themselves. Nonetheless, the game proved to be a fun distraction from staring at the door and forced her to drink enough that she could occasionally forget her anxieties. The voice in her head telling her that he wasn't coming, that he hated her, had dwindled to a rare whisper. Somehow, she realized, she was actually kind of having fun.
But below the party's surface she noticed something else, an undercurrent that seemed to have all of them swept up in its midst. With every card drawn and rule added, it became more and more apparent that the game, the party - all of it was just a giant excuse to hook up. Everywhere she looked her eyes alighted on some salacious endeavor, blatant or obscure. When Tenten drew a face card, she plastered herself to Neji's mouth without a moment's hesitation, even as he'd been using it to form a sentence. Shikamaru, meanwhile, had migrated in imperceivable increments towards his counterpart on the couch, ultimately sneaking his arm around her back; Temari seemed to pretend not to notice, but the way she stared at him implied that this contact was neither novel nor unwelcome. By the time Ino had marred nearly every last one of them with her lipstick, Sakura reached a stunning realization:
She wasn't a monster, a nympho, or a freak. If anything she was relatively conservative compared to the throng of rowdy teens in the room, who seemed all too eager to swap spit with each other under the guise of a game. They certainly appeared to be thinking with an appendage other than their heads. Sure, things had gone too far with Naruto, and their mess was far from resolved; but she couldn't help but take some comfort in the thought that maybe what she'd done wasn't so obscene. For all she knew she may not even be the only one of her comrades navigating such an affair. Was it really possible, after so many days of self-loathing and nights of lost sleep, that her situation was actually painfully and utterly normal?
She hadn't formulated an answer by the time the door opened and a flash of blond seared across her vision like a lightning strike. Her subject had arrived at last.
Instantly the room felt 20 degrees hotter; her heart hiccuped into her throat. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him cross the room, doling out greetings and flashes of his enormous grin before settling on the couch beside Shikamaru, looking jovial as ever. He had shown up after all, to a party where he was sure to see her. He didn't despise her yet. The experiment was a go.
Steeling herself to the task at hand, she downed the rest of her drink, hoping it would flush her heart back into her chest. She would have to wait for an opportunity to get close to him, she supposed, although the mere thought of that made her palms sweat. She didn't know which was scarier, the possibility of an attraction she couldn't control, or feeling nothing, having no explanation for her appalling acts.
"Alright - 'Never Have I Ever'!" Ino cheered, holding up a Jack. "Fingers up, nerds."
Sakura snapped out of her thoughts with a fresh jolt of panic as everyone in the circle held up their hands to play. From experience Sakura knew what kind of prompts to expect from Ino in this game, and they were sure to be egregiously dirty and personal. She had no desire to confess to her recent exploits in front of everyone - nor lie and deny them in front of Naruto. Seizing the only way out she could fathom, she excused herself from the group to get another drink.
The second she stood up she noticed the clumsy wobble in her legs, exacerbated by the razor-thin heels she wore. Whatever Ino had put in the punch was strong as hell, and for the first time in her life Sakura was on her way to getting properly hammered. She resolved to take it easy with her next drink lest she really lose control; given what she had done sober, God only knew what she was capable of in a blackout. She made her way carefully to the kitchen and filled her cup only halfway, her mind scrambling for a viable plan. How was she actually going to put this 'chemistry' theory to the test, short of drawing a King and having an excuse to make out with him?
Her answer came abruptly as her subject stood up from the circle, tilting the last of his drink down his throat. Before she could discern a single coherent thought, he was headed toward her, gaze locked on hers as he advanced.
Her heart threatened to break out of her chest.
"Having fun?" Naruto asked, coming to stand opposite the counter from her. He smiled, but his eyes bore a curious glint. She didn't know if he could see her furious blush or if she just seemed drunk, leaning against the counter in her treacherous heels, her face probably still smeared with Ino's makeup.
"Trying to," she replied, reciprocating the smile, however shakily. Feeling fidgety, she brought the cup to her lips just to give her hands something to do; despite her previous vow to take it easy, she hoped the liquor would at least depress her racing pulse. "How's band practice going?" she asked; surely music was a safe topic, right?
The way his eyes brightened at its mention told her this was true. "It's good! We've still been working on the new stuff. And…" He paused dramatically, glancing over his shoulder to ensure their privacy; "...I finished your song."
Sakura blinked, her mouth morphing into a brighter smile than before. "Already?"
He nodded, crossing to her side to reach the punch bowl, ladling more of the noxious liquid into his cup. "The guys haven't heard it yet. I wanted you to be the one to sing it when I show them."
She balked at him, forgetting about the experiment entirely. The prospect of her song, that she had toiled and wept over, actually being put to music, being performed and proliferated, was both thrilling and terrifying. "You seriously wanna perform that song? With me?"
"Of course I do," he said, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's gonna be great. We have an in at Rock Bar if you ever wanna perform it live, but no pressure. We're just having fun." When she didn't respond, her brain working slower than usual and filled with too many contrasting thoughts, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be nervous. They're gonna love it," he assured, squeezing her.
Somehow the words "If you say so," came out of her mouth even though her brain had gone totally offline. For a moment all she registered was his hand on her arm, the warmth that emanated from it. Even when he removed it she could still feel his touch, its memory a stronger sensation than the cacophony of pop music and shouting that filled the room. It was just a simple gesture, a friendly one, but the second it was gone she missed it.
When her brain switched back on, all she could think was:
Well, fuck.
That's all it took, huh? One hand on her shoulder and she's practically swooning? No wonder she had turned a hug into losing her virginity. Whatever chemistry they had appeared to be strong, at least for her part. She searched his face for any inkling of reciprocation but couldn't discern anything for sure; he had turned back toward the others, watching the drinking game from their safe distance.
"Holy shit," he sputtered, having braved another sip of Ino's punch. "Is there any mixer in this or is this pure kerosene?" His face contorted in an exaggerated grimace, making Sakura laugh. Even when he was being goofy - something she used to roll her eyes at - she felt it, the subtle yet insistent magnetism, drawing her to him as if guided by unseen hands. But now that this force had a name, something she could easily define, it felt less sordid and intimidating. So she was into him - so what? Beholding him then, the contagious joy of his grin, the bright pools of his irises, the way his oversized shirt clung to the conforms of his torso, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
"I'll do it," she said, out of nowhere, barely grasping her own words.
"What?" He turned back to her, brow cocked.
"I'll perform the song. At Rock Bar, wherever." She could hardly believe herself, agreeing so concretely to the prospect that ultimately terrified her, but his reaction quickly exorcized her fears. The smile that overtook him, the flash of excitement in his eyes - she wished he would always look at her that way, so utterly and totally elated.
"Yes! You won't regret it. You're gonna be totally badass!" He went on singing her praises and his gratitude, but she barely heard it. He had pulled her into a hug, as she realized she'd hoped he would, and held her in a crushing bind against his chest. Even though she could barely breathe, she beamed, trying not to spill her drink on him as she laced her arms around his back. With her face in his neck she felt lightheaded, enamored with the heat and scent of him. She could feel his breath on her hair, the contours of his body melding perfectly with hers. For a moment she feared what would happen when they broke apart, should their lips pass too closely to resist collision -
But then she opened her eyes and all the warmth drained from her body, replaced with a sickly, icy chill.
Sasuke stood on the threshold, regarding the scene with his usual frigid indifference. When his eyes landed on her, she could've sworn she saw the ghost of a frown.
"What's he doing here?" Her voice came out a whisper, words blending together strangely.
Naruto pulled back to follow her gaze; seeing Sasuke, he released her from his arms immediately, leaving her cold and unsteady on her feet.
To her surprise Naruto greeted him, standing aside to make room. Sasuke stepped into the kitchen, invading the space that two seconds ago had been warm and comfortable, now chilly and uninviting as if a storm cloud had eclipsed the sun.
"You made it! How's it going?" Naruto asked, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Perhaps he meant to appear casual, but Sakura registered how his shoulders stiffened, smile seemed forced.
"Not bad," came Sasuke's cool reply. He surveyed the rest of the party, still thoroughly invested in the drinking game, an orchestra of shrieks and laughter. Although his expression didn't change Sakura could sense his derision, the snide air of apathy his dark gaze always bore. She couldn't believe he had shown up there of all places, to a party of Ino's, whom he hardly cared for; to a house-warming when he seemed to possess no warmth about him at all. She had banked on seeing Naruto that night, had braced herself for that encounter, but Sasuke's presence shook her to the core. She felt totally and completely unprepared to see him.
The two engaged in small talk, unremarkable and polite, but Sakura said nothing. She felt at once estranged from her body and frozen in place, unable to move or speak. What should have seemed completely normal, the three of them, Team 7, standing there together, felt like a cosmic abomination. She couldn't explain it in any coherent way, not with words at least, but she felt it in her gut: it was very, very wrong. Maybe it was the memory of all the times he'd tried to kill them - the knowledge that he still could. Maybe it was the fact that despite his dark history he had never apologized for any of it, never acknowledged all the harm he'd wrought, never tried to make it right. He'd been screened heavily by the town Elders, apparently to their satisfaction, but so what? She was just supposed to take their word for it? How could she believe he'd changed, he was sorry, if she'd never heard it herself? Whatever the reason, the longer he stood in her presence the more her stomach churned; bile surged to her throat; her body burned with an ire so powerful it made her head spin, forcing her to clutch the edge of the counter for support.
She couldn't take it anymore, watching the two of them converse. As if nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed. As if Naruto had somehow forgotten - forgiven Sasuke, despite receiving no profession of regret.
She slammed her cup on the table, bolting (stumbling, really) for an exit. Rather than push past the duo to the front door, she shot in the other direction and ducked into the bedroom, hoping that if nothing else she could hide until the urge to cry or smack someone abated. Then her eyes alighted on the window, its sheer curtains aglow from the streetlamps. The light at the end of the tunnel. She'd found an exit after all.
Three scraped knuckles later she had muscled open the latch and crawled her way onto the fire escape. Bracing against the railing she peered down into the alleyway, struggling to focus on any distinct shape or object. The cobblestones formed a dizzying pattern that slinked and swam across her vision. She was suddenly hot and cold at the same time, her skin prickling with sweat that cooled instantly in the night air, sending a chill up her spine.
When she leaned forward, searching for a place to safely jump, she vomited over the side, emptying her guts onto the street.
A/N: I have rewritten this chapter many, many times over the past few years until it felt right. It has taken many paths. Thanks for reading - and please review! IT SUSTAINS ME.
Still here,
Morbid Original