Fish Bird
魚鳥
The digits flashed in the semi darkness, creating a neon lime glow on the ceiling.
5:57
The nine continued to flicker; casting moving shadows on the sloping walls.
A little to the left someone made a noise in their sleep: a soft of gurgling snore into the soft fabric of a pillow that smothered it into a fluffy sort of sound. Followed by absolute silence….
Almost absolute silence, because for a fleeting moment there was the sound of pressure on wood outside the door, as if someone was stood right outside, fingers holding onto the handle, breath held still. It was if the whole house was listening intently for movement.
5:58
Seconds passed and nothing happened. The void spiralled, dripping with anticipation. Smoothly, the handle bent and the door- seemingly from its own accord- swung open a fraction.
5:59
There was no light in the hallway, only pitch black and swallowing shadows as the door continued to swing, sinister and smoothly.
Somebody was standing; there in the darkness.
6:00
Naruto yelled as the machine screamed into his ear, and promptly fell straight out of the side of the bed onto the cold unyielding floor. Groggily he sat up and turned on the light. He looked up and frowned: not remembering having left the door open before he went to sleep. He shrugged his shoulders and thought nothing more of it, yawning, arms up and over his head, tonsils exposed to the world.
He fell groggily backwards in a dead stupor.
The alarm rang again and was promptly hit with a pillow
Naruto wedged his shoulder against the door, the key giggling uselessly in the lock. Great, it was jammed again. He would be damned if he admitted that Shikamaru was right and that he needed to ask a locksmith to look at it. He used his weight and silently begged the hinges to swing open.
As if someone had heard him the door burst inwards and in his astonishment he went flying over the welcome mat and landed in an undignified lump over the front step. The contents of his shopping bags rolling all the way down the hallway. He cursed his clown-like feet and scrambled after the cartons, various packages and tins on his hands and knees.
He was sure he had had a broccoli shoot in there somewhere as well, but hadn't he also bought three shopping bags?
Naruto ran a hand through his hair sighing, before making his way into the small kitchen; whistling cheerfully. It should be noted that the kitchen isn't cramped because it's small; it's cramped because it's untidy. And untidy is putting it very lightly…
A quick glance revealed there to be coat hangers sticking out of some the utensil draws; a stash of comics in the bread bin; a blown light bulb in the sink and a spatula stuck into the door of the microwave. The walls were liberally splashed with a multitude of different colours, mostly liberating oranges and yellows alternating sometimes into a deep rich shade of vivid red.
Naruto liked his kitchen. It has a cheerful friendly environment that seems to welcome him in, greeting him. As he deposited the shopping onto the counter boards, still singing to himself, he paused to say a caring "Good Morning" to the spiky potted cactus sitting in the windowsill.
He began to noisily clatter about, putting things away and leaving things out for later. He opened the fridge and noticed an interesting, large green fungus growing at the back of the vegetable drawer….
An unpleasant sour smell as coming from an open carton of milk. But Naruto knew about spoilt milk: he was not about to spend another day running back and forth to the toilet, oh no, not after last time. Not if he can possibly help it.
The carton went straight in the bin along with the entire contents of the vegetable draw, which seemed to be transforming into various new fluffy forms. After some thoughtful consideration, which involved Naruto frowning at the bin, contemplating whether or not spoiled milk and mouldy vegetables could possibly be the formulae for producing carnivorous man-eating mutant plants, he took the rubbish bin outside.
Just to be safe, you can never be too careful.
Half an hour later Naruto slowly traversed the stairs, hands in pockets, his footsteps strangely muted as he climbed the top steps, and paused licking his lips.
This felt odd. He lived alone in a two-bedroom apartment each with a separate bathroom, and a spare room that he doesn't use. Kiba used to ask why when he first moved in promptly after he and Sakura had just started going out together. Naruto used to grin at this, that easy laid-back smile, and say he "didn't read the fine print".
Kiba would look confused and open his mouth to say something else until he was kicked by Ino - as much out of satisfaction than as a hint - or more discretely Shikamaru. The truth of the matter was however, Naruto had brought the two-bedroom apartment because he had wanted Sakura to move in with him.
He had hated living alone as a child; and as an adult, or at least a child playing adult, he hated it even more. But the bold light of reality had been that Sakura had had no intention of moving in with Naruto, and had her own modest, neatly furnished apartment the other side of the village.
It hadn't been out of conscious thought she had done this, just something that sensibility had dictated to her. Usually five nights out of seven Naruto would sleep over at her place: sometimes more, sometimes less. He was welcome as long as he didn't touch the décor and brought his own toothbrush. Neither was he allowed to touch her kitchen, which was, perhaps, understandable…. The mere thought of her own kitchen being in that state of untidiness… was enough to bring a cold sweat to her forehead.
For Naruto, his own apartment felt empty, especially at night. Alone in his single bed pushed up against the wall, which he somehow managed to fall out of every single morning.
The room he slept in was actually the guest room. The room next door with the double bed, that was technically the master bedroom. But he never slept in there. Experience had shown him there was nothing more depressing then waking up in a double bed, alone.
But it's to this bedroom he's going to now.
He walked down the corridor, his feet making minimal noise on the wooden floorboards. He paused outside the door, his hands frozen over the wood, his fist clenched and hanging in mid air. He licked his lips again and blinked his cornflower blue eyes.
"Come on," he muttered to himself, "just knock already."
Once more he stole a glance down the corridor. The sunlight was streaming clear and strong through the double windows, leaving golden criss-crossed pattern on the floor.
Gently he knocked, and the sounds seem to slip and slide into nothingness as the inside of the room swallowed it entirely. He knocked again. This time feeling awkward and slightly embarrassed.
Should he wait? Should he go in? Should he leave?
No answer from inside. He nibbled at his bottom lip; weighing up the pros and cons. He decided to chance it.
Cautiously he opened the door a fraction.
Inside the room curtains were drawn, the light crept drably from under the thick material dissipating after a few centimetres into the overwhelming darkness.
Naruto opened the door a little wider his eyes half closed, fully expecting it to be slammed back hard in his face. Yet nothing happened.
The tension mounted to a climax in Naruto's stomach. He exhaled through his mouth, swallowed, and then chanced it and stuck his head through the gap between the door and the wall.
The murky gloom of the room cast sombre greys across the walls and floor. Creating murky shadows on the ceiling. Slowly his vision shifted, moving towards the bed and its occupant. His gut tingled as he opened his mouth, noting his voice to sound strange and slightly hoarse: "Hey… are you awake?"
His whisper is just audible, but the form on the bed didn't move. It has its back to him.
"…Sasuke," Naruto persisted, in that same tone of voice as though someone was on the verge of dying: "I made you breakfast, are you hungry?"
Nothing.
Not even an insult.
Which he might have even welcomed.
So either Sasuke was ignoring him, which was highly probable; he was asleep, which is equally likely; or… he was dead.
With the last one, Naruto wasn't too sure of what to do. The other two are relatively simple to sort out: just leave him alone, he'll get up when he wants to.
Naruto closed the door again and leant against it, thinking if Sasuke really is dead he'll start to smell, in which case he'll be able to call Iruka up in hysterics and blackmail him into removing said dead body from his apartment.
Smiling to himself Naruto walked back down the corridor again and slid down the banisters.
"He's crazy. Didn't I tell you he was crazy?" Shikamaru proposed from the hallway, hands in pockets as he slipped off his sandals. He was talking to Kiba in Naruto's kitchen with Hinata, who was asking why there is a broccoli stalk in the umbrella stand.
"I thought the term you used before was irresponsible moron?" Kiba replied, watching with interest as Naruto took the vegetable from Hinata to drop it in the sink.
"Yes, that too, but my main point was that he's crazy," Shikamaru corrected, taking his usual seat by the door. He swung back lazily in the chair, his angular head tilted slightly to the left as he surveyed Naruto critically.
The tousled haired youth was glaring at both of them, head on the palm of his hand as he sat at the table, his brows raised incredulously.
"Are you done yet?"
"No." they both answered simultaneously.
Naruto chewed his tongue, caught between amusement and annoyance. In truth it's very difficult to stay irritated with either of them for any long period of time outside of a day. That doesn't mean to say that they're forgiven, but it's an excuse.
"Have you both just dropped by to remind me I'm an idiot?"
As a matter of fact, Kiba does this about three times a week, almost always on a Wednesday morning, sometimes with Shikamaru in tow, most other times just by himself or with Akamaru. Kiba seems to have a sixth sense for when the best or worst times to drop by are: either just as lunch is being served, or like that disastrous time he got hit with a pineapple after he let himself in through the backdoor.
"Well, as tempting as that usually is," Kiba says, grinning his wolfish grin and rubbing the tip of his nose, "it wasn't the only reason. We thought we'd drop by and just check if you were still alive, Shikamaru has a delicate heart condition you see."
"I beg your pardon," Shikamaru cut across, "I do remember someone trying to persuade me to break into this very apartment last night, just to make sure he was still alive. That's all very well, when you're woken up by someone's hypoglycaemic rant at a normal time, but at three in the morning…" He raised his eyebrows poignantly.
Kiba threw an arm out over the back of the chair and squared his shoulders.
"Oh come on, you were the one pacing around your flat in your pyjamas."
Shikamaru moved his mouth slightly forming a thin line and then thinking better of it, looked up at the ceiling; swinging back on his chair.
"So… Naruto?" Hinata asked, her voice quiet but at ease.
There's was the comforting pressure of Kiba's foot against the base of her chair as she sat up a little straighter. Unlike the boys she had the sensibility to get straight down to the point, and Naruto was looking at her kindly with his beautiful blue eyes, head on his folded arms, mouth in a distant sort of smile that gave her a warming sensation which bubbled in her stomach.
"How's it been with Sasuke-kun?"
Kiba and Shikamaru who had at this point been obstinately looking in opposite directions from each other, both turned their heads, exchanging a brief glance and subtly (or unsubtly in Kiba's case) paying greater attention to this conversation change.
"Sasuke?" Naruto laughed, he didn't pretend for a moment not to know this was the real reason they had been round, last night too, and yesterday morning although technically Sasuke hadn't actually been relocated to his until the afternoon. They had all been sitting with him on the front steps of his apartment helping him to swallow down butterflies of nerves.
"I haven't seen him actually, he's been erh… sleeping, I think, since he got here. In fact I don't think I've heard him move from the bedroom. Well he might have this morning when I went out to do the shopping."
"Do you know how stupid that was?" Shikamaru cut across looking slightly irritated again, his dusky angular eyes narrowed, as he settled his chin onto his open palm.
"What?" Naruto asked genuinely confused, "Going shopping?"
"You left a shopping bag in the store you moron."
"I did? Oh... Yes I did! How did you know?" He frowned at them suddenly, his blue eyes narrowed, even giving Hinata an accusatory glare. "You haven't been stalking me again have you? Because I warned you last time to nev-"
"We only did that the one time, and it turned out to be an entirely pointless exercise."
"It was disturbing!"
"I don't know about that," Kiba interjected mildly, leaning across the table to give Shikamaru a provocative waggle of his eyebrows. "More like intensely disturbing on our behalf."
"Don't you dare." Naruto snapped his eyes moving he Hinata, flushing. The whisker like scars on his cheeks seeming to deepen.
"Oh no one cares about your other girlfriend Naruto."
"Other girlfriend?" Hinata asked non-plussed.
"His cactus!" Then both males burst into simultaneous laughter. "We kept hearing him talking to someone called Virginia. Except he doesn't know a Virginia, so we thought maybe," Kiba sniggered, "he had a secret girlfriend or something like that. So Maru and I followed him round for a bit to find he was having deep and involved conversations with his cactus."
"You guys," Naruto said between slightly clenched teeth looking up at the ceiling lamp, "you swore you'd never tell anyone."
Kiba waved his hand in an airy manner, "This is Hinata for god sakes. Realistically? Would she ever tell anyone?" And then added after some consideration, looking at Hinata as though in a whole new light, "Would you?"
Hinata looked aghast, but this might have been for a number of factors, one that so bad are her friend's intercommunication skills that they resort to stalking in order to ascertain the truth. Two that Kiba would ever suspect that she would tell anyone. And three that Naruto is currently in a long-term relationship with a particularly knobbly cactus.
"No." she said, as close to outrage as Hinata can ever get, a mild disapproval. Kiba grinned fondly at her, exposing his sharp canines, and propped his head back on his folded arms; sticking his other foot on the base of her chair.
"So," Shikamaru continued, "about Sasuke?"
"I know you guy's simply think I'm inept or something like that, but it's really not such a big deal." Naruto told them simply, massaging his temples and blowing messy strands of bright gold hair from his eyes.
"Yeah, but you guy's have history," Kiba pointed out, slightly over-emphasising the 'history' part with his fingers.
Shikamaru looked pained.
What Kiba was trying bravely to avoid saying was: "Remember what happened last time? When he walked off? Remember how badly torn up you were about it?"
In reality Naruto knew he was still torn up about it now. That's the funny thing about scars, although new skin may form over the hurt, you're never quite the same again. There's always some sort of indent, or impression left, sometimes an old scar may ache if it went in deep enough. Naruto remembered very well what the pain was like, the sort that hurts every time you breathe.
"On a more practical strand," Shikamaru interrupted as he picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it, "how do you know he won't try to kill you?"
"I think it would be a little difficult in his current condition."
"It would be more difficult if he where dead." Shikamaru said tartly, looking directly over Naruto's shoulder and not meeting his eyes.
"Oh for fuck's sake Maru, you can't just say that…" Kiba said lowly, whistling between his teeth and looking at Shikamaru with undisguised horror. Shikamaru spared him a single dirty look.
"Maru…" Naruto said very slowly, "What are you saying?"
" I'm just saying, you know, if he were dead, and if you guys had listened to me, we'd all probably be a whole lot better off."
"Shikamaru!" Both Hinata and Kiba said simultaneously looking appalled.
Naruto knew perfectly well that if Hinata weren't here they'd do what they did last time he'd nearly got himself killed on a mission. Shikamaru would have Kiba pin him to the floor, then pour a tumbler of water all over him and have Aukamaru sit on his head. He had turned several shades of blue and nearly suffocated to death before they had decided to let him up again. Not a pleasant experience.
"I'm hungry," he said, changing the subject and pushing his chair back towards the kitchen sink. "I'll make lunch, shall I?"
"Yum," Kiba interjected enthusiastically bouncing up. "Make Tonkotsu again, yeah?" He looked about eagerly for something to do; Hinata's had already crossed the room to help. (They know better then to ask Shikamaru the rapture could be imminent and he wouldn't shift a finger to help.)
Hinata began quite logically, by trying to clean up one of the counter tops, which was covered with empty bowls and a used saucepan. She took these over to the sink which she filled with warm soapy water and dunk the dirty dishes in, having no problem herself with washing china.
She turned, lifting a tea towel to find a bowl full of cold ramen underneath it, unused chopsticks lying by its side.
"Naruto," she said in some confusion, turning round to find Kiba and Naruto in a heated argument about who ate who's packed lunch the other day, ("they were dog biscuits you moron!") and Shikamaru taking the opportunity to thumb through Naruto's mail.
"…Are you going to eat this?"
"Uh?" His eyes fell on the china bowl, and he frowned looking for the first time slightly depressed.
"I made it for Sasuke this morning, but he didn't eat it."
"He refused?"
"No, he just… I dunno, when he wants to eat he'll eat I guess. I'm not going to run around after him and force him to digest my cooking...I'm not going to force him to do anything actually. I've never met anyone who can sulk as well as Sasuke."
"Yeah but," Kiba interjected eyeing up the bowl in an Akamaru like manner, "what a waste of food."
"Leave it," Shikamaru said from the table in his no-nonsense voice. "Sit down."
Kiba sat down looking disappointed, his ears drooping slightly.
"Good boy." Shikamaru muttered without looking up from Naruto's electricity bill his face a grimace, "So are you going to hurry up and feed us or what?"
Slowly there was a rise from the subconscious, breaking the thick film that separated a world of shadows from the realm of reality. The layer flickered, wavering for a moment before breaking completely. Like ripples on the surface of a pond, spreading surely outwards, connecting and diverging into something else much wider.
From beneath it Sasuke Uchiha shifted, his mind whirring in slow circles as he began to wake. His eyelids felt insurmountably heavy as he looked up at the ceiling of a room he doesn't recognise, studying it with his eyes. The Light trailed from cracks in the curtain behind his head causing him to wince and stinging his eyes. Slowly he leant out of the bed: he felt vaguely sick, dark strands of hair are stuck to his pale clammy forehead as he staggered to his feet. His hands clutcheds the rim of the mattress to keep himself from falling as he slammed ungracefully against the bedpost.
Thoughts were whirring in his mind at break-neck speed, colliding and fragmenting, too fast to process, and he grimaced. Placing one hand to his forehead he wished they'd all stop.
He'd wish for the silence again if it didn't remind him so much of death; he'd ask for sleep if it meant escape, but it doesn't. If he sleeps, he'll see it. Over and over and over and over again, he'll see it without pause. He doesn't ever want to dream again, or sleep for that matter, but his body continued to defy him. It keeps him as a human, limited, useless, worthless thing; and it's proven itself as such.
Sasuke gritted his teeth and stared hard at the floor, grey eyes focusing as he willed everything to be still.
Taking a slow breath in he collected himself, he briefly he allowed his mind to reflect on past and current events, where he is now is… Naruto's apartment?
He laughed, but the sound that comes from his throat sounds more like a violent cough in his chest.
They've looked, they've analysed and their conclusion is he's no threat, oh no… not anymore thanks to….
Sasuke opened his mouth experimentally, cold dry air rushing to the warm insides of his mouth. No sound. His smoky eyes flash with anger as he tried again. Same result, the silence falling flat as if he is being mocked. Laughed at.
Things start to crumble to pieces in front of him as he fought to pin down the overwhelming urge to start smashing things up.
Violence has been a way of coping for him over the previous years: he can channel thoughts and memories and feelings through it without having to think. He likes it too; the violence, it's simple.
Slowly Sasuke slid to his knees, cool fingers pressed over the hot sockets of his eyes. He knew full well that destroying things won't help him now. He had to get a grip, he has to think, and think clearly.
Briefly he looked down at his wrists both of which were heavily bandaged and an ugly sneer flickered up one side of his mouth. Followed by a powerful surge of concentrated hate and anger searing through his abdomen.
He slipped his shirt up and over his head, removing the soft fabric into a pile on the floor and allowing the cold air to assail his skin; he drew in a short hiss of anger as he noted the bandages across his chest too. His fingers itched: he wanted to pull them off, wanted his nails to dig into the skin underneath and drag the damn thing out. Except he knew that was useless, and that he has tried it before to absolutely no avail.
All it creates is more pain than he knows how to deal with.
Slowly, Sasuke stood up, ignoring the world as it wobbled slightly. He was hungry (finally) and he postulated that something is supposed to be done about food. He made his way to the door, but as his fingers brushed the handle he considered the fact that he was semi-naked and wearing god-knows-whose clothes and that his skin smelled vaguely of antiseptic and bleach.
He turned and looked at the closet with some scepticism only latterly noticing the pile of clothes on the chair beside it. Pinned to the top there was a note scrawled in untidy handwriting:
'Hey, thought you might want these.
Your bathroom is just next door.
Oh, and you've got your own toothbrush, right?'
For a brief moment Sasuke stared at the note, something swirling through him that he didn't understand, but he shook it off and heading wordlessly through the door.
Sasuke had been standing at the top of the stairs for a whole twenty minutes, feet apparently glued to the spot
He just… he just… he surmised at least, he just didn't want to go downstairs.
Noises drifted up from the rooms below: laughter and the clattering sound of china mingling with the babble of people talking.
Sasuke slumped against the wall, taking into account the wallpaper and the bright paintings. Somewhere down by the bottom steps, someone has placed a hand covered in purple paint by the start of the stairs. Either by accident or on purpose Sasuke really can't tell. It struck him as an odd thing to do… wait, take that back: the situation is odd. He found himself slipping further to the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, back against the wall, perched almost timidly like a child on the top ledge.
Why have they stuck him here of all places? With that fool Naruto?
Naruto…
Sasuke smiled.
That's if you can call it a smile it's more a cruel twisted line working up the sides of his flushed and pouting mouth. It's not quite a sneer: it's too elegant for that; and yet somehow, it's demeaning.
So, this is the older Naruto's life is it? Sasuke almost felt like laughing.
It's ironic how normal, how bright, how cheerful it all is.
He surmised from the general cheerful chaotic décor that he hasn't changed much. He's still that naïve idiot he always was. Only a fool would have given him a second chance after what he did. He wouldn't have given himself a second chance if he were in Naruto's position.
He would have looked at himself clear in the face and told him where he could fuck off to. But Naruto was not him. He was clueless in comparison and he had no conception of what this could eventually lead to.
What this will eventually lead to.
Not because he wants it to, but because there is no other choice.
Images flickered through Sasuke's mind, and it's like he's watching a spinning reel of flickering orange and turbulent gold and those laughing blue eyes. All the naivety, all the motion, all the joy and all the energy seem to flow: and without acknowledging it, Sasuke's lips curve at the corners very, very slightly.
Then he saw again the circular white room, the one with the high window. The person standing far, far above him, fighting against restraints, face and expression so familiar and yet so altered.
It hadn't been… well it was…. Of course it was… time had past…. Just because it wasn't what he remembered… it was still Naruto.
Wasn't it?
His…old… no…ex?
Yes, that's it.
His ex-best friend.
The one he threw away, because he couldn't get what he wanted.
Because he wasn't strong enough.
The one he had traded in.
Again; that smile, a smile that's not really a smile, a sort of grimace. Not exactly self-pitying, not as much as it is self-loathing.
From the gap beneath one of the closed doors a babble words escaped, accompanied by more laughter, some male and one female Sasuke surmised. Vaguely he wondered who's in there, and why. ANBU checking that he hasn't killed Naruto yet? He doubts it somehow.
"You are unbelievable," he can hear Naruto snapping, and he tilted his head slightly, drawing his knees closer to his chest continuing to listening.
A chair scraped back and there's was more laughter.
"I turned my back for one minute and it's gone."
"Ahh, well time wasted on one man is time gained for another!" A voice he knew but cannot place.
"That was awfully profound for you," someone else said suspiciously: this voice too vaguely familiar, less so than the other one.
"Regardless," the first continued, sounding pleased, "I still think we should stick with the previous proposal. That we all spend the night here."
"You know, that's really not necessary. Greatly appreciated, but still absolutely not necessary."
That voice was Naruto's; gentle yet stern and highly inflexible.
"I do think I can take care of someone, in his um… condition. I mean it's hardly a threat. He was here last night and nothing untoward happened."
"Last night," the unfamiliar voice put forward again, "he was sedated. But odds are he's going to be more active and more troublesome as time passes."
Sasuke sat up, his countenance slight and dangerous. He didn't like being from afar, much less when he can hear it.
"Maru," -and was Naruto again- "you guys can't move in with me. There's not enough space."
"Yes there will be!" The lower, more animalistic voice chimed in. "We'll use your bedroom and you can sleep in the living room."
Sasuke released the grip on his legs and swung his feet onto the second-to-top step,
"I am not sleeping on the sofa!" Naruto protested.
"Well you wouldn't have to," the laconic one interrupted, "if you'd been sensible and said no, like everyone thought you'd do. Because, God, we can only dish out so many second chances to those who-just-don't-deserve-them now can't we? I mean what idiot does that? Willingly? After he's been screwed over and felt for dead."
"That's all in the past."
"All in the past? Come on Naruto don't be dense he was jealous."
"Jealous?" someone asked, a female voice, "What do you mean?"
"What I say," the other replied, "Naruto was surpassing him and he couldn't handle it."
"Hey!" This time, it was Naruto's voice sounding defensive and slightly hot.
"Don't degrade him like that. There was more-"
"But it was a part of it: a major part of it I'm sure, and he deserves nothing better Naruto. Especially this. You amaze me sometimes, you really do. But not in a good way."
Sasuke didn't really know why it angered him so much to hear it. Maybe because it was spoken in such a matter-of-fact way.
Maybe because he'd never wanted to admit to himself that there was a grain of truth about it and he didn't like that. Like looking at your reflection and despising it; trying to smash the mirror with your fist, only to find it wouldn't shatter and left shards of silver splinters in your skin.
It was before he even realised that he was doing it: walking down the stairs, hands in pockets, eyes dark as he heard the voices falter at the footsteps outside the door. It swung open aggressively, slamming into the wall and juddering. Sasuke was once again aware of a room full of people staring at him with surprise intermingled with a little fear and great dislike.
He was tall. Probably taller than all of them by an inch or two, his pale features strangely accentuated by the black polar neck and trousers he wore. The whole of his body, still slender and darkly powerful stood commanding and authoritative in the doorway. His eyes slid with apparent disdain across all of the occupants, finally coming to rest on the one the furthest away.
The only one who looked back without any hostility, animosity or even fear: which is what he expected.
He didn't know why the look echoed so much inside his own mind. Perhaps it was not what he thought it would be. The look was whole, unaffected: almost emotionless towards him.
Perhaps because it was from him, the person he wanted the greatest reaction from.
Naruto tapped his fingers pleasantly on the table, sucking in a breath as he felt suddenly awkward. A hostile atmosphere had settled over the small group like a thick fog.
"Sasuke," he said, breaking the silence finally. For some reason he felt like it was just the two of them in the room alone.
"Food is ready."