Yoru No Koishii

Hey, sorry this one’s majorly late. Got stuck a little.

And thanks to my new Beta, Arcane Theorem. Only, she might have a different name on here. I’m not sure.

******

“Pathetic.” I open my eyes to look up, through bangs matted with sweat and dirt, to see Itachi staring down at me, his lips twisted into an annoyed frown. Stupid bastard doesn’t even look the slightest bit tired. While my clothes, plain black cloth simply pieced together, are ripped and burned, torn away to reveal skin in no better condition, the black pants and mesh shirt he’s wearing are as neat as they were when we started, nor is his hair at all out of place, except for those strands that always hang in his face. Even his nail polish still looks perfect. I shift my head slightly, trying to clear the curtain of blond locks, but they ignore me, stubbornly staying where they lay. They need to be cut, but I haven’t anything to cut them with. I suppose it would be too dangerous for him to give me weapons.

I look away from his face, not wanting the reminder of why I’m here in the first place; the two brothers look so much alike, except for those scars across the elder’s face. The same dark hair and almost too-pale skin. At the moment, since Itachi hasn’t got his sharingan activated, their eyes are even identical, bottomless black depths that seem to look through me, measuring and mapping every part of my soul. The only difference is that while Sasuke’s eyes occasionally seem to approve what they see, Itachi always looks like I’m something distasteful. Not the same as the way the villagers always looked at me; no, Itachi’s never been frightened of the Kyuubi. I sincerely doubt he’s ever been frightened of anything. He looks at me like Sasuke used to, like I’m not even worth the effort of keeping around, but he won’t kill me, because I’m not worth the effort that would take, either.

“Now I see why Orochimaru made a toy out of you. It’s about all you’re good for. My brother is a fool for keeping you around. He’d get much more out of your death.”

The blue sky makes me angry in its apparent peacefulness; a few white clouds floating serenely above us, the sun almost reaching its peak, but not quite there yet. Everything’s perfectly calm, now that there are no sounds of fighting to interrupt the stillness.

I close my eyes again, stifling a pained groan, not wanting to see the condescending gaze, nor the mocking sky. Both remind me of the past, of twelve-year-olds who fought, and hurt, and, occasionally, who laughed, well, chuckled, and who were, underneath it all, best friends.

In a moment, when my muscles don’t hurt so much, I’ll get up, and this time I’ll hit him, even if only once. Once will be enough, more than I’ve ever hit him before. But I can’t seem to get my arms or legs to obey the commands I’m sending them.

“Itachi-sama.” I don’t bother looking. Itachi’s annoyed growl tells me who it is, as does the scent of too much perfume, too sweet and flowery. It makes my nose itch, and I move my right arm the slightest bit in an automatic attempt to rub at it, biting my lip as the burn across the back of it, acquired when I didn’t quite miss one of his fire attacks earlier, protests the motion.

“Kimi-san.” I start to chuckle, the what-the-hell-do-you-want-now tone quite familiar, but the laughter changes to a choking cough that ends in another groan.

I suppose I should be used to this. It’s been the same for the past month, ever since the day he stopped starving me. I’m awoken at daybreak, fed, either from a bowl on the floor or from his hand, depending on what kind of a mood he’s in, then we head out here, to practice taijutsu.

Well, I practice taijutsu. He uses ninjutsu and genjutsu to ‘encourage’ me.

It’d be a hell of a lot easier if these damned restraints were off, but I suppose he’s worried about me deciding he’s annoyed me too much for one lifetime. More like two or three.

“Is there something you needed? I’m busy.” At least I can get a break now, if only a short one. And I think I can move now.

Ignoring the complaints of my abused muscles, I roll over and force myself to my knees, then struggle to my feet, stumbling backwards a few steps as I straighten. My knees feel like they’re going to give out any minute, but Itachi’s barely heard ‘hn’ sounds faintly approving. As if I cared about getting his approval. All I want to do is kick the bastard’s ass and sleep for a month. After that I might beat Sasuke up too, just for putting me through all this in the first place.

Once I can be sure I’m not going to fall over, I straighten fully, looking up at the two who watch me. Itachi’s gaze is as undecipherable as ever, but I let my eyes slide away from his quickly, since he’s got the sharingan activated. He usually goes to an effort to keep his eyes black, unless he’s annoyed with me. Which I’m quite satisfied with. It’d be a pain having to differentiate between when he just looks annoyed and when he’s about to give me the headache of the century. And while I do realise that he’s a hell of a lot faster at activating his sharingan than Sasuke is, there’s still that millisecond of warning.

“I don’t see why you don’t just leave him down in his cell until we need him.”

Kimi reminds me somewhat of a young Sakura on a bad day. No, make that a PMS’ing young Sakura on a bad day. Okay, I’ll admit it, Sakura never got that bad. For some reason the woman absolutely loathes me. Maybe she just doesn’t like demons.

Or maybe she’s upset that Itachi’s spending so much time with me instead of her. She is his partner now, since the nitwit that was paired with Itachi when Kisame got shifted to watch Sasuke got killed off in an attempt to capture Gaara. I wish he could have killed her off instead. Or maybe Itachi himself, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about this damned obsession of his.

She’s actually really pretty, when she’s trying to be. Her long hair, kept loose, is this odd blue-silver shade, almost as pale as the ice in Snow Country, and her eyes are grey, with a habit of changing their shade depending on her mood. They’re currently the shade of storm clouds, with a cold hardness that reminds me of steel. She always looks more like a geisha than a ninja, her make-up perfectly applied, every fold of her lavender kimono settled just so, the white flowers along the sleeves and hem meticulously stitched.

“Weapons get rusty if they’re not taken care of.” Itachi says, and my anger jumps higher. I can live with the beatings, with being chained and insulted, and the constant pain, but it’s comments like that that really piss me off. To him, I really am only a tool, to be honed and used, and tossed aside once I’m not needed anymore. It seems everyone is out to use me, and it makes me wonder sometimes if maybe that’s all Sasuke sees me as, too; just something to be manipulated like one of Kankuro’s puppets, left in Konaha to amuse myself when he’s done playing.

“You should take some time off, though. You’re always so tense.” My balance starts to teeter again, and I stumble backwards, suddenly feeling rough bark beneath my fingers. I drop to the ground at the base of the tree, letting my legs relax again. My eyes drop to the grass at my feet as I pull up a blade, rubbing it between my fingers. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am as useless as he says; all the serious battles I’ve ever had, someone’s had to rescue me. It’s only when the fox comes out that I’ve ever been any help.

The grass drops from my fingers, and I look away, reaching for another. Instead my fingers touch cold metal, and I stare at what they’ve found. A single kunai, lying abandoned in the grass. My fingers close around the handle, and I look up, my pain and exhaustion temporarily forgotten.

The two missing-nin are still talking, neither seeming to be paying any attention to me, but as I watch, Itachi turns his head just slightly, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Kimi notices the movement, and the pretty fan she holds in one hand snaps closed angrily, as she openly glares at me.

“It’s foolishness,” she growls, opening the fan and snapping it closed again, eyes still locked on me. I feel my lip curl back in a silent snarl, and shift slightly, which earns me nothing but another snap of the fan, and her other hand reaching to rest on the handle of the whip I know she hides under her wide obi. I’ve had it used on me before, when she decided she was going to beat some respect into me. The experience left my back covered in cuts from the thin lash, and dark bruises courtesy of the metal ball at the end of the weapon.

“It’s not your place to decide.” The fan snaps again, and it’s just enough irritation to make my growl audible, a low rumbling in my throat.

“Quiet, Pet.” His voice is sharper than I’ve heard it before, but it doesn’t register, as the Kyuubi stirs within, trying to use my anger to break free of its restraints. I feel my eyes change to red, then burn as they’re forced back to blue. The warring is wrecking havoc with my body, the injuries alternately half-healing and opening anew, and my chest is heaving like I’ve just raced Lee around Konaha a couple dozen times.

“What the…” Kimi’s voice cuts off suddenly as I burst into action, the restraints cracking as the fox’s chakra begins to overpower them. I lunge at her, the kunai twisting in my hand and slicing through the material of the whip that lashes out. A midair shift in direction follows, to avoid the pair of shurikan that follow the whip. My feet touch the ground again a second later, only long enough to reorient myself before I’m leaping at her again, this time managing a swipe with the kunai that draws blood.

Another wave of shuriken comes flying out at me, and I’m dodging them as well, noting only too late that I’ve landed right in the path of one of Itachi’s fire jutsu. I try to dodge anyway, the agony as the fire licks at my left arm managing to break through the red haze that clouds my mind.

A wall of solid air thrusts into me, picking me up and throwing me back into the tree I sat under earlier. My mouth opens in a silent scream as my head snaps back, and I feel something crack within, then again, lower down. My eyes widen, the red vanishing instantly as the restraints regain control and my demon subsides reluctantly. The kunai drops from nerveless fingers, and I collapse, my whole body going suddenly numb.

“Damn it!” It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him swear, and it’s a little surprising that the word doesn’t sound awkward. My body convulses in a choking cough that I don’t feel, blood dribbling from the corner of my mouth.

My right hand has landed in front of my face, and I whimper as it refuses to obey my order to move, despite all the screaming at it my mind is doing.

“Make yourself useful and go get Kabuto-san.” Kabuto’s here? I thought he was dead.

“Stupid brat.” My eyes flick away from my hand long enough to note Kimi’s enraged gaze as she spins and stalks off, the movement completely at odds with her gentle-seeming appearance. One of her sleeves has a neat slice in it, red staining the cut.

“Relax, Naru-chan.” He kneels down on one knee, his hand reaching out to lift mine, curling my fingers around his. “Squeeze.” I obey, but nothing happens, my body just as unresponsive as before.

I clench my eyes shut, hoping somehow that this is just a really bad dream, and any moment my alarm clock’s going to go off, and I’ll be awoken by six kids jumping on my bed, while the twins watch from the doorway, mirror images of each other right down to the way they lean against either side of the doorframe, their arms crossed in careless poses so reminiscent of their father, the only difference being the small half-smile that graces the lips of one, as opposed to the cheery grin that crosses the other’s features.

I even wouldn’t mind if it was my cell I woke up in, to find that Itachi’s just entering, with a plate of sliced fruit, or, if I’ve done good the day before, meat chunks, or even those stupid awful-tasting ration strips that are what I get most often.

There are footsteps coming towards us, and I open my eyes again, to find that nothing’s changed, except for the sight of a familiar, pony-tailed medic-nin bending down over me.

“I thought… you were… killed…” I manage, barely even a whisper.

“Naruto-kun.” The voice is bright, a slight playful rebuke hiding in it. “I’m harder to get rid of than that.”

I like Kabuto, despite the fact that we’re technically enemies. Like any good medic-nin, he doesn’t like causing pain, though he doesn’t flinch away from doing it when necessary. And most of the time he tries to be friendly. I remember he talked the entire time, when the snake was put on my back, trying to distract me.

Two fingers rub gently at the back of my neck now, and I can feel them until they reach the choker. I notice the tug of the necklace as they slide underneath, but other than that there’s nothing. My eyes close in dismay and I let out a soft half-sob. I hear the sound of Itachi moving, and then one of his hands is tangling in my hair, pulling it up away from my neck.

There’s a clicking sound, and I blink in confusion, knowing that something’s different, but not quite sure what. I swallow, and suddenly realise there’s nothing pressing against my skin. My choker’s missing.

“I couldn’t get that off.” Itachi sounds like he’s simply stating a fact.

“It’s a pretty good technique.” Kabuto answers, his fingers moving about again. “The same one Orochimaru-sama used for Naruto-kun’s chakra collar.”

“My cho…” I run out of breath before I can complete the word.

“It’s right here.” Kabuto puts it in my hand, empty now that Itachi’s behind me, closing the fingers around it. They refuse to hold it, though, and the black material slides out, the pendant landing on its edge, leaning back against the ribbon. I stare at the gold and silver fan, realising there’s a streak of dirt marring the crystal casing, and wanting to clean it off. My fingers twitch the slightest bit.

“He moved.” Itachi comments, and catches my hand in his again.

“Squeeze.” My fingers twitch again.

“That’s promising.” Kabuto touches another point, and suddenly I can feel his fingers. The touch is overridden a moment later by pain. My muscles are working now, and they’re all more than happy to all tense up at my scream of pain, my eyes squinting in an attempt to hold in tears.

“No, relax. You’ll hurt yourself more.”

“Look at me, Pet.” Itachi pulls my head up, and my eyes open the slightest bit. Black dots bore into me, and then everything’s black.

******

Where am I?

I blink my eyes, trying to clear them up, but everything seems hazy. There’s someone standing over me, and I concentrate, trying to make the form make sense.

“Sasuke?” My voice sounds so far away, like my ears are stuffed with cotton.

“Hn.” If Sasuke’s here, I know everything will be all right.

“Should be… walk… couple days… Keep him sedated… healed.” Is that Kabuto? Maybe Orochimaru hurt me too much again.

No. Orochimaru’s dead.

What’s going on?

“Sleep… fine, Pet.” And why is Sasuke’s voice so strange?

My eyes slide closed again, and nothing matters.

******

Poor Naruto. I’m so mean to him.