Class of 2007

Many months after their relationship had turned sexual, Sasuke found out about Melissa, Naruto’s girlfriend whom he’d been dating for a couple of years. Neji had raised his hand and asked, “Not meaning to pry into your personal life, but are you breaking up with your girlfriend when you move back?” Naruto had smiled. “We’re moving together.” The class exploded. “Wow, that’s commitment!”
“Are you getting married?”
“Are you going to have a baby?”
“It is wonderful to see you delving into the wondrous experience of true love,” Lee had tears in his eyes.

Sasuke felt like strangling Naruto. He kept his face blank but underneath the surface he was seething, loathing, screaming, crying, raging, WHY. He turned to Gaara, who saw the hurt he was trying to hide. “She’s one of those quiet, mousy blond types.” Gaara, to anyone else, would appear as though he did not care. Sasuke knew Gaara understood his pain and was concerned. He nodded and looked away. The bell rang.

Sasuke listened to Evanescence for many more hours than usual. He was more subdued, more moody. Kakashi and Iruka figured it was because of school stress and Sasuke did not bother to correct them. How could Naruto have cheated on his girlfriend Melissa with a sixteen-year-old boy? Why had Sasuke loved him? Sasuke had been a distraction for Naruto before Naruto settled down, Sasuke was sure. Their relationship had lasted over a year and meant nothing to Naruto. The sex was a mere diversion. To say Sasuke was hurt would be an understatement. But he tucked it neatly inside of himself, giving Naruto a hug and wishing him luck on the final day of Sasuke’s sophomore year classes.

Two years passed. Sasuke thought of Naruto every single day, saw his face on so many blond men. Sasuke cried sometimes. He searched on the Internet for Naruto. He stopped. He dreamt every night of Naruto, thought about him every single day. He remembered things Naruto had said in classes and felt sick when his teachers now said similar things. Homework, in the beginning, was difficult. Sasuke wrote for Naruto and it was so painful. Then he lost all feeling and wrote mechanically. In his junior year he got a 2.8 GPA, down twelve points from his usual 4.0. In his senior year, he graduated with a 3.7, better but the evidence was still there—Sasuke’s grades slipped because he missed Naruto. He clung to the memory of his first with a death grip, swearing some nights tearfully that he would not have sex ever again if this is what happened.

Sasuke became consumed with a need to find Naruto, to get him back. He prayed that Naruto might be feeling the same obsession, might be doing the same things. It took awhile for Sasuke to admit that he was obsessed and had always been. The dozens of poems were a clue, according to Neji. The constant staring at him in class had been another. Gaara pointed out that Sasuke talked about Naruto to any potential date, which made them feel inferior. Sasuke never said “my English teacher” but actually spoke of Naruto as an ex-boyfriend. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Naruto and still loved him. He refused to admit this. He couldn’t tell Naruto’s story without crying, and it made him furious. He was ashamed. Gaara and Neji were always silent. They listened silently as he cried or bitched. They offered no advice, just listened. That was what Sasuke needed. As a thank-you, he still did the things they did together. The three of them still hung out together. They drank tea mixed with sake late at night at Neji’s and ate fugu at Gaara’s, careful to never get caught drinking the alcohol or eating poisonous blowfish. Sometimes they went to Tokyo late weekend nights and ate frog. Mostly they ate sashimi at malls, staying within the confines of social norms. Gaara and Sasuke teased Neji sometimes, half-joking that he should ask Shikamaru out. He always sneered at them for this but blushed. He dared not ask the question, do you think he’d say yes. They all were friends. Normal teenagers with normal lives. Except one of them had slept with their English teacher on a regular basis. And now that one is obsessed—no, just—fixated on the memory of his past. Sasuke isn’t doing anything wrong. No. This isn’t wrong.

The obsession and stalking blossomed. No, it’s not stalking or obsession. Nothing Sasuke is doing is wrong. Whenever he begins to think those thoughts he quickly clears them away and continues his methods of finding Naruto and bringing him back into his life. The ways he found his information was not wrong. It was—covert. It was good of him to find the information. He was helping himself. Saving himself. Sasuke was being normal. Everything was fine. He was lying to himself. He knew what he was doing wasn’t within the confines of the law. It was common in America to run background checks on your romantic partner, but not as in-depth as what Sasuke found. Japan didn’t make this information widely available to the public either, from what Sasuke inferred. No one had ever said, do this and find stuff out about the person you’re sleeping with. Sasuke wondered if he was breaking into secret documents or something. Only a little bit, though. He was consumed with finding out everything else he didn’t know about Naruto. The things Naruto had never told him about—illegal ownership of firearms, for example. Regulations for firearms here were very strict.

Sasuke was using the Internet for all this. There were many Internet sites that proved valuable, one in particular. Sasuke knew from other sites that Naruto had moved a lot, but this site had all the postal addresses in it in one place. Every single place Naruto had moved, the exact address was there. The dates of moving in and out of each place were all there. Naruto’s age, first name, last name, and middle initial--middle name were there. His alias was there too. His criminal record. A list of his relatives.

Naruto had changed his name?! Yes, to Naruto Uzumaki. Originally it had been a Russian name. Naruto’s birth name was a Russian name, Ivan Grigorovich Christiansen. John son of Gregory Christiansen was the literal translation to English, a very common name in Russian. He’d changed it to Tempest (or Fishcake) Spiral. Sasuke wondered why, and was quite shaken about the name change. It usually meant someone was hiding something. Given that Naruto had moved twenty-three times in three years before moving to Japan and then back to his hometown in America, Sasuke was sure Naruto was hiding a lot of things. Perhaps this was a pattern—Naruto taught at a school, had sex with girly-looking sixteen-year-old boys with black hair and immediately moved once the school year ended. But he’d taught at KHS for three years…

Sasuke’s stomach felt heavy. He probably had not been Naruto’s only fucktoy. He looked again at the places Naruto had moved.

Fredonia, New York, six times in one year.
Seattle, Washington, three times over six months.
Colmar, Pennsylvania, three times in six months.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He was there now.
Konoha, Japan, once.
Kearny, New Jersey, once for two months. He’d moved to Japan afterward.
Five times in ten months around certain cities of Denmark, where pedophilia prostitution was legal.

No, not Naruto’s only fucktoy. But what if? Sasuke’s mind had danced with possibilities and memories. The memories soon won over.

Naruto’s classroom had been rather crowded on a spring Friday after classes had ended. Naruto had made eye contact with him, as usual, as he spoke with other students. There had been more students than usual. Sasuke remembered he was supposed to be home right after classes that day and hopped off the desk he’d been sitting on.
“I’m going to go—”
“Wait, don’t go! I mean, go if you must, uh…” Naruto’s eyes had widened, turning the brightest blue. It was for perhaps a millisecond and then he had collected himself and told Sasuke to go if he had to. Sasuke had walked home, thinking deeply about what had happened.

There was a hailstorm outside. Bullets of solid grey ice roared on the roof. Thunder boomed overhead. Sasuke asked Naruto if he could go outside into the storm and pray. “Do what you feel you need to do,” Naruto responded with a nod. It was the middle of class and Naruto had never let anyone go outside of class in the middle. Sasuke did and prayed. After he had finished, he turned to go back into the classroom and glanced at one of the windows. Naruto was there, gazing at him. Sasuke had a feeling Naruto had been watching him the entire time.

Sasuke approached Naruto’s desk and asked if he could meditate. Naruto gave him permission, so Sasuke plunked himself down on the floor, crossed his legs and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Naruto’s blue eyes were gazing at him. Naruto quickly looked away.

Two years after that, what was now about a month ago, Sasuke had found out more about how Naruto was doing, through the grapevine. Tsunade had summoned Sasuke to her office. The resource officers for the school, both of them, stood on either side of Tsunade, staring ahead somberly. Dread and sadness overtook the student. “Are my dads okay?” Sasuke’s voice was calm as usual, but his knees shook. Tsunade smiled a sad smile. “Sasuke, everyone you love is alive and well, I promise. That’s actually what I called you down here to talk about, one person in particular.” Sasuke searched her face. The sad smile disappeared as she spoke. “Naruto earned his Master’s degree in these two years and he is now attending a Russian institute for advanced language acquisition. He and his girlfriend also just had a baby. They’re not married but they’re getting married.”
“So their child’s a bastard,” Sasuke stated, keeping his face blank. Tsunade nodded.

“If you need to talk, your counselor is here. And Tanase Sachi has Naruto’s e-mail address.” Sachi was Sasuke’s current English teacher. She was slightly over four-and-a-half feet tall, with dark brown hair, an olive complexion and thick-framed glasses. Many students admired her. Sasuke enjoyed her classes.
“Ano…Sensei?”
“Hai, Uchiha.”
“Ano…ano…may I have Uzumaki Naruto’s e-mail address?”
She wrote it on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “If he doesn’t contact you, tell me and I’ll get him to.”
“Thank you very much, Sensei,” Sasuke bowed and smiled.

An hour later his stomach began hurting. He thought little of it until a few minutes later he was leaning over a lavatory sink vomiting. The grief and stress had begun. Two years’ worth of repressed emotions slammed into him full-force. Sasuke was stunned, humiliated and furious about the fact that he was vomiting. He rinsed the sink and his mouth out, washed his face and walked out of the lavatory, when Hinata ran up to him. “Uchiha, you—you need t-to s-see your guide—guidance counsel—counselor.” Her stammer became more pronounced when she was excited, nervous, or giving an important message. Her stare was blank and her face was stoic, but Sasuke felt her concern. Sasuke was aware that Hinata had always been afraid of him, so he greatly appreciated her talking to him and walking with him to the counselor’s office. He did not feel the need to say so but communicated it with an attempted smile. Hinata understood. She sat near the counselor and Sasuke rose an eyebrow when it registered in his mind that she would be helping him with the process of his grief. She was compassionate and empathetic. That was probably why she had been chosen to help him. Or something along those lines. The counselor and the female student with the blank stare waited for the male student with the stoic expression to tell his story.

Tears gathered in his throat and he forced his face to stay blank. His stomach ached. “I just found out that Naruto and his girlfriend had a baby,” Sasuke’s voice cracked sharply and he clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sobs rising. Despite his efforts, a few tears streamed down his face. The counselor urged Sasuke to tell her and Hinata everything, to cry. Sasuke was so ashamed.

They coaxed and pleaded, cajoled and attempted to bribe Sasuke in order for him to talk. After quite a bit of polite but forceful prodding, the story began to pour out. It soon was a waterfall. Indignation and hurt made Sasuke’s voice inflection switch between extremes—a low growl, yelling, a half-squeal. His body language and facial expression became withdrawn, then expressive. He switched back and forth. Hinata and the counselor listened without judging Sasuke. He told them not to do anything. Hinata agreed. “S-s-sensei’s act—actions would be very d—difficult t-to h-have a case against s-since S-Sasuke was at the l-legal age of consent.” Her stammer worsened when she worried. “It wasn’t rape,” Sasuke mumbled. “He entered into an improper relationship with a minor!” the counselor exploded. Hinata jumped and Sasuke flinched, for the counselor had sat quietly for the entire time. “He was your first, knew what he was doing and took advantage of you!” Sasuke’s and Hinata’s faces were expressionless as the counselor shouted. “He’d better not come back here.” Hinata quietly spoke, telling the counselor what she didn’t want to know and what Sasuke wanted to hear. “He told Lee he’d come back to speak at our graduation. He told Temari he was resigning from teaching to get his Master’s. He told many other students he was moving back to America, to Philadelphia. He told Neji he had a girlfriend.” He had told everyone everything except for Sasuke, whom he had told nothing.

Sasuke had cried a few tears and forced the rest down. His stomach hurt. He rushed out of the room, down the hall into the nearest lavatory and leaned over the sink. No vomit. He walked back. “When I first found out, I threw up.”
“That is grief,” Hinata explained.
“My stomach hurts. It has been.”
“Again, that is grief. You will go through the five stages, then your stomach will stop hurting.” Sasuke knew this. “The stages occur in any order,” he recited the textbook’s passage from memory. “However, the stages are always the same and the final one is always acceptance. The stages can be as quick as ten minutes or two years, possibly more. To try and force oneself through the stages is unhealthy and ineffective. Strong social networks are vital for a grieving person, as are comfort foods such as miso or tea.” Hinata nods, remembering the words from the textbook.

“What has been the order of your stages so far, Sasuke?” the counselor spoke again. “Indignation, obsession, stalking, stealing my dad’s credit card to buy the ability to look at Naruto’s criminal record and other things of his online.”
“I’d roll my eyes if you hadn’t confessed to a crime.”
Sasuke went quiet at that.
“I won’t turn you in.”
Sasuke perked up.
“It would be good to know your stages as you go through them, Sasuke,” Hinata politely requested. Sasuke nodded. The bell rang. “It would be good to keep a journal.”