Yoru No Koishii

Boy. I’m getting slow lately. Gomen. But it’s here at last.

And I'm kind of falling out of synch a little, since this is later then Naruto's accident, which happened just shy of noon.

******

The sun’s setting, washing the sky in muted shades of red and violet and turning the white clouds a gentle pink.

The valley below is shadowed, but still visible from where I stand, mid-way up the hill. The dead tree behind me is marked with cuts made from shuriken and kunai, but it holds my attention no more then anything else in my surroundings, my mind focusing on something distant, but troubling.

“Sasuke-kun.” Slender arms wrap themselves around my waist, and I sigh in annoyance, trying to ignore both the arms and the soft voice that was trying to sound seductive.

“Takara, let go.” I wasn’t in the mood to put up with her babble at the moment. Something wasn’t right.

“Maybe we could try Grandmother’s bonding thingy again,” she suggested, her hold only tightening. I gave a short grunt, my gaze wandering again.

I suppose she’s a nice enough girl, but she’s not the brightest person in the world. She’s as annoying and stubborn as Naruto, and as clingy as Sakura and Ino combined.

Still, it wouldn’t bother me if I were interested. If it were my blond who was pressing up against me now, I’d be more than happy to let him, even encourage it.

But I don’t want to cuddle with anyone else; certainly not a crushing girl half my age.

“Have you named her yet?” Takara asks, watching the fox kit, still trying to get me to talk. In her opinion, that’s the first step to capturing my heart.

“No.” My eyes flick back toward the fox, and my hand flows down to my kunai pouch and back easily, sending one of the small daggers shooting forward.

Takara gasps, but the kit doesn’t even blink as the knife digs into the ground less then an inch from its tail. The large weasel that was sneaking up on it, however, jumps in surprise and slinks off, probably to find easier prey.

I hate weasels around my foxes.

“You need to have something to call her,” Takara protested, her mood swinging back to clingy idiot in an instant.

“You should be a blonde.” She blinks at my observation, obviously confused.

The kit is tugging insistently at the handle of the kunai, and tumbles over backwards as it finally comes free. It shakes its head, and scratches one ear, then grips the handle of the kunai in its mouth and carries it back, dropping it at my feet, looking up at me expectantly.

“Hey, you taught her to fetch. That’s so cute.”

I ignore the comment. I didn’t teach her to fetch, she just started doing it, chasing after a shuriken that had gone wide. It will be a handy trick in battle, though, if she can find them reliably, and I won’t end up losing so many weapons.

My gaze rises to rest on the sunset, and the man who I know still waits for me in that direction. The week has turned to a month, and I still haven’t picked up the technique, unable to let myself go enough to allow the bonding.

“Let’s try again,” Takara says, interrupting my pondering again.

I sigh as she moves around in front of me, the fox stepping back out of the way. I move automatically to mimic the position she takes, feet spread slightly, hands lifted.

A quick cut across her right palm, and blood wells up, dripping from the injury as I slice across my own left. The different streaks of red mix as our hands are clasped together.

We both turn our heads to watch our other hands, as they come together as well, to form seals.

They’re slower than I’m used to, awkward since she’s only just learned them, but I daren’t try to push her; it took us two weeks to finally get them correct.

There’s the familiar swelling of power as we call out the phrase in perfect synchrony, and I force myself to relax as I feel her awareness pressing up against mine. There’s a third consciousness, barely felt, her youkai, and the malevolent presence makes me mentally back off slightly.

“Sasuke.” I know it’s Takara who is speaking, but my mind morphs it into Naruto’s voice, and the slight whine the kit at my feet gives only intensifies the illusion. With one long, slowly released breath, I finally let her in.

It’s different then what I expected. Instead of one mind overpowering and controlling the other, there’s just a gentle merging, and I know that she can take nothing I don’t give her, nor can I force her to my will.

“Here, kitty, kitty.” We both turn to look as Kisame comes up the hill.

“You’re just in time.” Takara licks her lips. “Nibi was just saying how she’d love some seafood for dinner.”

I can feel her amusement at the joke, as well as the viciousness of that other presence that shows it’s not as innocent as I always thought it was. I make a few more signs, to activate the actual power transfer, then another, to cancel it out. The bond between us breaks.

“You’re always so grouchy. You should loosen up.” She embraces me again.

“Might as well get used to having her around.” Kisame added. “Your other pet is probably Itachi-san’s little toy by now.” My eyes narrow, and Takara reaches out one hand to wriggle her fingers.

“Go walk off a cliff,” she orders. I can see sweat break out on Kisame’s forehead as he fights her attempt to control him.

“Knock it off.” I push Takara away and her concentration slips enough to let Kisame free.

“Hey, who’s that?” Takara pointed across the valley, and I turned to look.

On the path that led down into the valley, three people were walking. Well, two of them were walking, and one was being dragged. The one that wasn’t doing the dragging was carrying something else.

Curious, I start down the path back to the cottage, the kit dancing happily ahead. If I’m right, we should reach the cottage about the same time.

“Sasuke-kun! Wait up!”

******

“Hey, he’s kind of cute.” Takara bends down to take a closer look at the figure lying prone on the ground, heavy rope holding his wrists behind his back, and more binding his ankles.

“Yeah. Don’t get too close.” Deidara warns. Nishirachi is standing beside him, his unusually dark skin and hair an odd contrast to the rest of us, in front of the cottage, and their other captive is glaring at us from under the tree, where he’s tied.

“Supper’s ready.” The old woman smiles cheerily at Deidara and Nishirachi, as if she gets missing-nin dragging prisoners for supper everyday. “There’s not enough seats for everyone, but…”

“That’s alright. Someone should stay out here to watch them. Yeah.”

“I will.” I don’t feel like being in the same room with them right now. Nishirachi hands me a needle filled with some type of clear liquid.

“In case he wakes up,” Deidara says. Nishirachi nods, signing something. He’s a mute who had his tongue cut out as a child. No one knows exactly who did it.

I look down at the figure and pocket the needle, smirking at my own private little joke.

“I can wait until later too,” Takara says. The others head in to eat.

Takara sits there staring at the tied man, before finally deciding he’s not going to do anything and heading over to the one under the tree.

“Stay away from him.” She pauses and looks back at me. “I don’t like his eyes.”

“Oh! You do love me after all.” She bounds back over to reward me with yet another hug. I give a snort and push her away roughly, watching the kit as it jumps about.

“I think he’s awake.” I glance down at where Takara is again sitting, poking at a seemingly unresponsive shoulder.

“Idiot,” I snap, and she looks up at me, dismayed. I roll my eyes, trying to keep my rising ire in check. “Gaara’s been awake since Nishirachi dropped him there.”

“Oh.” She pokes him again, and I smirk, wondering how long it will be before the redhead gets annoyed with her. “Are you sure? We should let him loose then, shouldn’t we?”

“I swear, you’re blonde.” That earns another confused look.

A kunai fits into my hand and shoots forward, earning a yelp from the dog-boy, who quickly backs away from where he was trying to sneak up on the fox. I don’t think he could have reached that far, but it was better safe then sorry. The kit promptly tugs the kunai out of the ground and drags it back over.

I glance down at Gaara, wondering why he hasn’t tried to bury us in sand yet. His forehead is creased, as if he’s concentrating on something, and I notice a few grains of sand in front of his face trembling.

Poke.

“Takara, go away. Now!” I don’t know why her poking him annoys me so much, but she takes one look at me and disappears around the back of the cottage with a squeak.

“And what the hell’s wrong with you anyway?” I growl, glaring down at the tied sand-nin. Green eyes open the slightest bit to return my gaze with interest, before slipping closed again; tight, as if he’s in pain.

I blink, looking more closely, noting the things I hadn’t before. He’s not moving at all, except for the rise and fall of his chest, and even that seems strained. Beads of sweat mark the pale skin. Too pale, actually.

The kit comes nosing over again, and grabs the black shirt in its mouth, pulling at the fabric. Gaara shifts, trying to scare it off, but it only aids in moving the hem upwards to expose dark lines.

Curious, I roll Gaara over onto his back and pull the shirt up the rest of the way, revealing a very poorly applied seal. I trace the lines with my fingers, wondering how anyone could mess it up so badly.

“Baka,” I growl, commenting on Deidara and Nishirachi’s apparent ability. Gaara lets his eyes slide open slightly.

“Whenever you’re done insulting…” The sentence is cut off with a wince he tries to hide. “Fix it.” It’s nothing less then a demand. I give him a long look before finally speaking.

“I could just leave it. Ask nicely.” He’s about to say something else, when his eyes slide closed again, his body tensing a moment under my hand.

“Please.” I stare. His eyes open again, and we just look at each other for a moment. His gaze is clouded with pain, and I’m sure my own orbs are wide in surprise.

“Uchiha,” he groans out, breaking me from my trance. Quickly my hands move over the lines, undoing the bungled jutsu. As soon as it releases, he gives a sigh, and finally relaxes. It’s then that I realise just how tense he was.

He tenses again, though, when my finger, cut with a kunai, traces another seal over him. I hear a rustling, and look up, noting the sand coming toward us. There’s not much around here to call, but he’s trying to bring as much as he can.

Still, I force my hand not to speed up, setting each line just so. Hurrying might mean another mistake, and this seal, one Orochimaru taught me, is a lot harder to undo then the one they had on him. Normally, Deidara’s seal wouldn’t have had any hope of holding him, and I realise it was probably bungled on purpose.

I trace the last line, and the whole configuration fades into black, the rustle of sand stopping abruptly. I stand, wiping the last bit of blood off my finger.

“I can’t feel Shuukaku.” Gaara whispers, sounding exhausted.

“That’s the way it should be.” He blinks sleepily at me as if just realising I’m there. “Tch. Go to sleep.” Surprisingly, he does.

******

As I expected, Deidara is surprised to see Gaara sitting up, his wrists and ankles untied, when he comes out later. By the look the sand-nin gives the blonde, I can tell that they haven’t gotten along very well, just more proof that Deidara meant to mess up that seal.

“It’s a wonder you ever even made it to chuunin if you can mess a simple seal up that badly.”

“Pretty fox,” he answers, seemingly ignoring my comment to focus on the black blur at my feet. “That reminds me. I thought you were handling the blond demon.” I’m sure my eyes are red, but Deidara looks completely unconcerned as he sets up the tents they’ll be sleeping in, since there’s not room in the house.

“His name is Naruto.”

“Itachi-san is handling him now.” Kisame breaks in. “I’m sure when he’s done, the fox will be much more agreeable.” He steps back suddenly as two of my shuriken fly past his face.

“Kisame, shut the hell up.” The kit goes running to try to pull the shuriken out of the tree trunk they landed in, and I stalk back inside, pausing to pull Gaara to his feet and pushing him in ahead of me. Then I consider, and turn back.

“By the way, don’t get too comfortable. We’re leaving in the morning.” Somehow, the kit has managed to free the stars, and comes running in just before I let the door close. I head up the stairs, feeling tired, barely noticing that Gaara is still following, carrying a tray holding two bowls that the old woman gave him.

“Soon, Naruto,” I whisper to myself, “Just a few more days.”

******

And the plot thickens. Well, maybe it doesn’t look like it, but trust me, it is.

Love triangles are so cliché. Besides, I’ve got five people to work with now. *evil chuckle*