A New Leaf

Disclaimer: See chapter 2, it applies to all chapters.

Warnings: RAPE. It's brief and not too graphic, but if you don't feel comfortable with it, I recommend skipping that part of the chapter.

A/N Sorry for the short chapter. I decided to challenge myself and see if I could get a chapter out in a week. I failed. This is the half I did finish. I want to thank you all for your fantastic reviews! I've been on cloud nine since reading them. I should have said so in chapter 2. Please excuse this faux pas.

A New Leaf

Chapter 3 Part 1 ~ The Stranger

Sasuke couldn't breathe. Something was choking him, plugging his nostrils and gagging his mouth as he tried to inhale. He thrashed, panic rising, the burn in his chest becoming unbearable. Sasuke clawed at the thing on his face and heard an indignant yowl. He lurched up into a sitting position, gasping for air as he threw the angry black cat off his bed.

Itachi always was a face-sleeper.

Sasuke glared daggers at the cat, adrenaline coursing through him. His expression changed to a grimace as he fished a cat hair out of his mouth. He threw the blankets up with one hand, the other swiping a finger along the inside of his cheek. Itachi, for his part, sat primly with his tail curled around himself and had the nerve to meow loudly, demanding food. Bare feet slapping against the floor, Sasuke marched past the cat on the way to the bathroom, shaking his middle finger and spitting out bits of wet fur as he went.

Itachi followed, looking smug.

Sasuke stormed into the bathroom, snatching his toothbrush from its plastic cup and slathering it with toothpaste. After a few moments of chomping on the bristles, he paused, eyes fixed on the tiled counter. There were two tidy piles, one of bones and fur, the other of small bloody organs and soft tissue. A few spats of blood had oozed between the tiles and there was a stain on the rug. Sasuke didn't have to do an autopsy to know who dunnit. He spat toothpaste froth into the sink and chanced a peek at the bathroom door. Itachi was licking his chops, looking rather pleased with himself.

It was official. Sasuke hated his life.

A generous amount of bleach, Simple Green and elbow grease later, Sasuke felt safe putting his toothbrush back on the bathroom counter. He slapped some cat food in Itachi's bowl, hoping to appease the little monster. Grabbing a towel from the closet, he heard his alarm go off. Sasuke groaned. To think he could have been sleeping until now. Letting the clock wail unattended, he tested the water. A shower would do him good.

With that thought in mind, he stripped and scooted behind the shower curtain. He closed his eyes, the water massaging his skin and plastering his hair to his skull. He turned around, reaching for a bar of soap. His hand paused, hovering above the dead gopher in the soap dish. Tiny, lifeless eyes stared back at him. Sasuke twitched.

Today was going to be a bad day.

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Sakura stroked her boyfriend's bare shoulder absently. He was asleep, his back to her, breathing deeply. She sighed and scooted closer so that her nose brushed his thick brown hair. The linens rustling around her as she inhaled, breathing in his unique scent, the smell of sweat mixed with a foreign spice he'd picked up while he was away. Sakura sighed against his neck. She was going to have to leave for work soon.

Carefully, so as not to wake the sleeping man, she slid out of bed. They had been dating for almost a year now, but his photojournalism career had kept him across the globe for almost half of it. He'd only gotten back a few days ago and was still jet-lagged. Putting up her hair in front of the mirror, Sakura yawned. They'd spent most of the night making up for lost time. She was exhausted and would've loved nothing more than sleeping the morning away. But still, there was… work.

She sniffed herself, wondering if she could get away without a shower. Another sniff told her that no, there would be no escape. Naruto and his freak nose would find her out, and she'd never hear the end of his complaints. Last time her boyfriend had been in town had been humiliating enough; there was no need for history to repeat itself. She gasped at the cold water, quickly adjusting the temperature. She didn't wash her hair, instead keeping it pinned up and out of the way. She was desperately in need of a new dye job and didn't want to wash out more of the color. The last thing she wanted was to have it turn an awful peachy-grey.

She got ready for work quickly, pulling on scrubs to cover the intimate bruises on her hips and along her spine. Pulling on a jacket and grabbing a purse, she paused in front of the door to the bedroom, hand stilling on the open frame.

He looked so peaceful as he slept. Thick winter blankets cocooned his body, exposing a teasing glimpse of his naked chest. His face was slack with slumber and his tousled hair stained the pillow. Sakura's face softened. Her eyes settled on the affectionate red scratches on his skin and her lips tilted into a half-smile. Mouthing a silent goodbye, she slipped out of the house, locking the door behind her.

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Naruto adjusted his sweatshirt self-consciously as he stood in front of Sasuke's door. He didn't know why he bothered; he still looked ridiculous wearing scrubs in the real-people world, but he had an almost subconscious desire to impress. The brass number 45 was staring him down, daring him to knock. He took it up on the challenge, giving the door a few solid smacks.

And he waited. He growled. Who was it that insisted on not being late? Stupid jerk, holding him up on the doorstep.

"Hey, bastard! Open up! We're going to be late," Naruto shouted at the door. There was no response, and Naruto, losing his last follicle of patience, began banging on the door, roaring "SASUKE! Wake UP!"

The next door over opened, and Sasuke's dark head emerged. The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "I thought I heard your stupid voice," he murmured to himself, leaning casually against the open door frame.

Naruto's mouth hung open. If Sasuke lives in the room over there… The door he'd been banging on finally creaked open and an old woman squinted up at him, looking thoroughly affronted.

"Honestly! What ever is the matter with you?" The woman said disapprovingly, her face very stern and regal. "What could possibly have been so urgent that you felt the need to scream obscenities and nearly break down my door? I see no smoke, I hear no gunshots. My only possible conclusion is that you are an extremely rude young man without dignity or tact."

Naruto looked horrified. Sasuke had to bite his fist to keep from laughing.

"I – I am so sorry, ma'am," Naruto choked out. "I'm just here to pick up a friend."

"And this friend appreciates you screaming at this early hour?"

"No, ma'am." He cringed. "Sorry. It won't happen again." Naruto looked properly ashamed.

"I should hope not," the old woman said coolly, giving the blond man a calculating stare.

When it became clear she was done, Naruto inched away from her toward Sasuke. He looked thoroughly abashed, much to Sasuke's amusement, and kept absolutely silent until they were so close they were almost touching.

"Um, ready to go?" Naruto whispered, casting his blue eyes into Sasuke's face before glancing at the old woman who was still standing in her doorway, watching him leave.

Sasuke smirked and stepped away from the doorframe, shutting and locking his apartment door. The large brass 48 glinted down mockingly. Sasuke followed Naruto's lead as he crept cautiously back down the hall. As they passed room 45, Sasuke caught his neighbor's eyes behind the blond man's back. She winked. Sasuke smirked.

Maybe the day didn't look so bad after all.

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Shikamaru didn't know why he bothered. He flew against a wire fence and flinched as the impact jarred his abused body. The man approached him, growling, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to drag him up. He didn't move, didn't try to escape. He only curled tighter around himself in anticipation for the man's fists.

They didn't come.

Instead, large hands grappled with his clothes. Shikamaru squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands. It was coming. He fought a whimper as his pants tore. His heart was beating a hole out of his chest. All he'd done was ask the stranger for a smoke. Maybe it had been the way he stood, leaning lazily against brick wall, or maybe it was the secluded area. In any case, he'd been attacked. It took several hits and a few failed vaults over the fence, but eventually he'd stopped fighting. He figured it would end faster that way.

The man flipped him over, bending ominously over his back and whispering terrible things into his ear. Shikamaru was shaking violently, uncontrollably. Even if he'd tried to fight, he wouldn't have been able to control his movements. He felt strangely weak, helpless, even. He wanted to scream or call out, at least tell the man to stop, but his throat was closed. It was like a nightmare where he couldn't run fast enough. For once, his mind was numb, void of complex thought and oddly blank. The first thrust crushed his face into the ground. Pain rendered him voiceless as his mouth opened in a silent cry. He tasted dirt and bile.

The man pounded him into the asphalt, their bodies hidden behind a dumpster. Shikamaru could feel blood, his blood, oozing down the inside of his thighs. He made no sound. He could barely breathe.

It ended quickly, but not soon enough. The man pulled away with a satisfied grunt and Shikamaru felt cold, exposed. Empty. He was still shaking. He felt younger than he had in a long time, like a child punished for wetting the bed. Only this time he didn't know what he'd done wrong.

He could feel his brain reassessing the world, trying to make sense of what had happened. He pulled his ruined clothing back over his body, feeling blood soaking into the denim. Somewhere above him, the man refastened his belt. Shikamaru's fingers tightened around his clothes in a subconscious, spastic movement. Expensive footware stepped in front of his face. They were scuffed. A full pack of cigarettes dropped a few inches from his nose. Payment. The man left.

Shikamaru didn't know how long he lay there, blood caking onto his skin. He'd heard the dumpster open and shut a few times as people threw out garbage. A fly crawled across his arm and a dog came over to sniff him before being called away. It wasn't until his internal clock chased him to his feet that he finally moved, pulling on his clothes, ignoring the torn, stained state of his jeans, and making his way out of habit to the bakery dumpster. He got there just as the Kurenai-woman was throwing out the extra loaves. Mechanically, he stole bread from the garbage, filing it away into his backpack. He limped over to another wall and sat gingerly against it, turning the new pack of cigarettes over in his fingers. His hands began to shake. He lifted a cancer-stick to his lips, fingers trembling and too uncoordinated to flick the lighter.

Shikamaru crushed the cigarette in his fist. His throat unstuck and he let out a choked sob, curling closer around himself. His fingers clenched around the fresh pack, crinkling the box. Suddenly, he began to laugh. It was a harsh sound, almost hysterical. He ran his fingers over the box in his hands, his shoulders shaking with mirth. He'd asked for a smoke. He'd gotten it.

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Kakashi stalked his prey, slinking jungle-style along the top shelf of the bookcase. His victim shifted, its hair jiggling. That hair. Kakashi didn't know why he hadn't noticed it before. Perhaps the angle had been bad. After all, people-hair is awfully hard to notice when you're a cat on the ground.

The hair had a life of its own. It seemed to move independently of the person it grew from, bouncing and wagging of its own accord. It froze, teasing, before continuing its intriguing dance. It was as though the hair was toying with him. Kakashi's lone eye narrowed. The hair twitched again and he snapped.

Yowling a war cry that sounded as though he'd been tasered, Kakashi lunged off the bookcase. His legs were outstretched as though for a hug, his tail thrashing for balance. His single eye gleamed menacingly as he zeroed in on his prey.

Sasuke ducked just in time.

There was a crash as Kakashi flew into the monitor. The three techs in the room blinked, paused mid-sentence. The grey cat plucked himself daintily out of the disaster on the desk and sauntered over to Sakura, meowing piteously. She plopped him onto her lap.

"What was that, buddy?" She asked, ruffling the fur on his back.

"Life must be getting rough. I think Kakashi just attempted suicide," Naruto laughed.

"Or homicide," Sasuke muttered darkly, righting himself and resettling into his chair. He glared at the cat, who was resting his head on Sakura's chest, purring loudly. She giggled and scratched him behind the ears.

"We need to get you neutered," she said, flicking Kakashi's tail area. The cat jerked away from her, eye wide in alarm. "Uh-huh," she nodded at him, wagging the same finger, "I don't care what Dr Sabaku thinks; I'd say it's about time."

Kakashi bolted off her lap, skittering to a stop once he was out of arms reach. He glared, his tail swishing evilly.

Sakura's laugh was interrupted by the telephone.

"Good morning, New Leaf Animal Clinic, this is Sakura, how can I help you? Oh, Ino! Ino? Oh, no. How long has this been going on? Ino, you really should take him to the ER." A sigh. "Yes, we have time if you come right now. Okay? See you in a few." There was a click as she set the corded phone in its cradle. Sakura turned to the other techs, looking strained. "Guys, we have a situation."

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A/N (4/29/11): Sorry about the suddenness of Shikamaru's situation. Somehow, when I wrote this, I thought it fit better with the flow of the story, but I think that was just in my head. To clarify a bit, Shikamaru is a homeless runaway who panhandles, dumpster dives, and generally bums around (which are things people who aren't homeless do, too). There are resources in Konoha, such as soup kitchens and support centers, but he's too lazy to check them out. Um, so far, he's been doing alright bumming around - making friends with the people who take out the trash, creating his own sort of network of places to go and people to see, so this incident was his first real exposure to the rough side of winging it. Like, he knew about smack holes and such, and had even chilled in them before, but Konoha is a small, quiet town and he'd never been on the, well, receiving end.

Except, of course, I didn't establish that earlier. Sheesh! It's rough to read back over my work and pick out all the plot holes that I can't really change unless I do a rewrite. Which may be in order. Sometime. In the time between when I retire and when I go senile. Yes, definitely then. Sometime in the 2060's. Or something.