The Writing on the Wall

The Writing on the Wall

By: ladygizarme
Beta: Houseki
A/N: Once again, thank you for all the reviews! It is so rewarding to get such a response from a story I’m enjoying writing, and the reviews are so often entertaining. It’s interesting to read some of you guys’ thoughts on what is actually going on. I LOVE IT! Hehe. (especially Sneakyfox’s for last chapter. O.o)

(To vashta: OMG, I’m SO CURIOUS to hear your theories!! But I understand where you’re coming from with not wanting to spoil it for yourself if you’re right. LOL Because as much as I want to hear your theories, at the same time I don’t want your guesses to affect my plans for the plot!)

Anyway, sorry for the long delay, but I had a really crappy week last week and just didn’t feel like doing ANYTHING. Oh well, here’s more now!

Chapter Four:

Shikamaru looked up from his computer screen when he noticed the blond ghost floating through his front door. Normally he would just wordlessly acknowledge the spirit and go back to what he was doing. This time, though, something made him pause, his gaze still studying the blond man now hovering mere millimeters above his living room floor.

The man looked shaken. In fact, if the blond weren’t already dead—and the saying weren’t so cliché—Shikamaru would think he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Truly, Shika would at least venture to say he hadn’t seen a ghost look so traumatized since his father had walked through that little girl when he was a child.

“Did something happen?” Shikamaru finally asked, having decided it was more troublesome to remain curious. Not for the first time, he wondered where his blond ghost went when he disappeared from Shikamaru’s apartment.

The man dug a hand through his shaggy, blond mane. He shook his head, though it seemed to be to some internal dialogue rather than Shikamaru’s question. Finally, the man looked up at him with those blue, blue eyes. Eyes that were so bright, even after death, and so expressive. Right now, they were filled with shock and bewilderment, which only served to increase Shikamaru’s curiosity.

“I… think I was just seen.”

“You think…?”

The blond shook his head hard. “I was seen. He tried to touch me. I felt it. It was so strange. But not only that…” Again, the blond seemed distracted by his own thoughts, gaze drifting away and becoming unfocused as his hand clenched in his hair.

“What?” Shikamaru prompted.

Those blue eyes again turned their attention to Shikamaru, practically seeming to glow as the ghost announced ominously, “He looked like someone I used to know.”

*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*

Dark, wet crimson soaked the back of the blue shirt, making it almost black. Blood-streaked blond hair flew messily around the tan, strangely-marked face as it turned to him. Eyes he had thought to be so blue and alive were now faded, grey and dead; yet, despite their deadness, they still pierced through him—to his very soul. It was a painful, naked feeling, making him recoil; his frozen hand that had passed through that shoulder (that wasn’t there) now closing brokenly—numbly—into a fist against his chest, where the cold seeped into his stopping heart.

“What’s the matter, bastard? Never seen a dead guy before?” that voice he had previously thought was so fittingly husky and cheerful now grated against his eardrums, mocking him disdainfully.

‘Of course, I have. That’s the problem. But why do you have to be…’

Sasuke did not voice his thoughts, but the blond seemed to hear him anyway. His blood-stained grin was proof enough of that.

“It’s okay. You can join me…”

The blond reached bloody fingers towards him beckoningly as he spoke, but Sasuke couldn’t get his limbs to obey his command to move. Frozen to his spot, he could merely watch as those fingers drew closer and closer, becoming ever more claw-like as they loomed before him. Just as they made contact with his own fingers, Sasuke was overwhelmed by a sudden falling sensation. He felt himself plummeting, spiraling ever downwards—or was it up? Flying or falling—he couldn’t tell anymore. It felt strange; foreign and scary, yet familiar and comforting. All was depthless, abysmal black; all was bright, blinding white. Then Sasuke felt himself hit something, landing abruptly, and he was blinking up confusedly at a ceiling he was well-acquainted with.

‘A dream,’ he realized with only slight relief.

A dream, yes, but the images he’d seen were based on a real event, after all. That bloody blond had been real. He’d seen him. He’d interacted with him. It had all been perfectly normal—on the verge of flirtatious, even—up until Sasuke had chased him in the parking lot and had to face the horrible truth. The blond was a ghost. A ghost he’d thought was a live person. A ghost he hadn’t gotten any dead feeling from. A ghost that hadn’t even looked like a ghost until that point in the parking lot.

Why? What had changed suddenly? Why did Sasuke first see the blond as a normal, living person? Why did he not see his true form until the parking lot? What was going on? And what was the significance of that ‘Death Note’ that had apparently been left as a sign for him? It had been the second “message” that day, and both seemed to be trying to tell him the same thing. The only thing was, Sasuke didn’t know what that was. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know.

With a groan, Sasuke pressed the heels of his palms to his tired, bleary eyes. He had woken with a headache, and all his confusing, internal questions were merely exacerbating the problem. Only one thing was clear to Sasuke at this moment: he was not getting back to sleep any time soon.

The lack of much light coming from his window spoke volumes as to how early it was, yet Sasuke still turned over to look at the red numbers on his alarm clock. It was just after 4am. Great. He hadn’t planned on getting up for six more hours. Now what?

With a sigh, the black haired man sat up in his bed, leaning over to switch on his bedside lamp. After blinking the dazzle of sudden light from his eyes, Sasuke took a dose of the headache medicine he kept next to the water on his bedside. Then he scanned his room thoughtfully, debating on what he could do. Preferably something that would tire him out quickly, so he could sleep again. If he managed to wear himself out, maybe he would be lucky enough to have a dreamless sleep this time.

Skipping over the book on his bedside—which might help him doze off since his eyes were still tired, but surely wouldn’t put him into a dreamless sleep—Sasuke’s eyes landed on the setup of his home gym. He’d bought it some time ago, before moving out of his parents’ home. It was one of those everything-in-one deals that appealed to Sasuke not only for its space-saving, but also for its well-rounded simplicity. With all the accoutrements that it came with, Sasuke was able to have a complete workout just with this one machine. It was the perfect thing for someone that didn’t have time for the gym, but still wanted their body in top condition.

Or, in his case, someone who liked looking their best—and that included avoiding the public humiliation of having a panic attack in an open gym.

It had happened once before, in his Sophomore P.E. class in high school. His class had been in the middle of their weight-lifting course, and suddenly a guy from the football team had come in, apologizing to the coach for being late but saying it wasn’t his fault because his English teacher had held him past the bell. The only problem with this had been that the guy had died the week before in a DWI collision (unlike stereotyping would suggest, it had actually been the other driver that was drunk), and Sasuke was the only person in the entire class to see or hear him. Needless to say, Sasuke had not coped well.

He’d used the injuries he’d sustained in his shock to gain a doctor’s pass for the rest of his semester, completing his required P.E. course by turning in written work and taking exams. Of course, more than the sprain in his shoulder and the bruised ribs from the abruptly-aborted bench-press (his spotter had been caught by surprise when Sasuke suddenly dropped the barbell, reacting a moment too late), the fear of another such occurrence had made Sasuke wary of ever returning to gym class. Just showing up, as was still required, had been hard to handle. More often than not, he’d made up some excuse to get sent to the nurse’s office right away, and spent the entire class there. Sometimes he didn’t even have to come up with an excuse, because he would already be well-entrenched in a panic attack and have to be dragged to the nurse because his legs wouldn’t move.

Of course, such acts of cowardice did little to help the taunting Sasuke was often the victim of. He was always the weird kid, with strange behavior, fears, and superstitions. And despite his popularity with the females because of his looks, no one ever actually approached him—for friendship or otherwise—because of his status as a social outcast. Such were the ways of schoolyard politics and hierarchy.

He had had one real friend to speak of, outside of members of his family, during his elementary school years. In middle school, she had abandoned him in favor of a new social status, leaving Sasuke largely alone. Even the usual group of geeks and outcasts tended to keep their distance from him. He was a freak. From this, he’d developed a way to protect himself and his feelings—by being equally antisocial and exhibiting a snide and snotty, I’m-better-than-you persona to go with it. In time, this self-taught behavior of his had become a permanent part of his personality.

Nevertheless, he still got taunted by people—especially jocks and bullies that tended to be bigger and more muscular than he was. When keeping himself in shape through P.E. and use of the weight room after hours became a useless option, Sasuke had started training at home, using the weights his father kept in the basement. That combined with a strict running regimen had kept him on par with most of the jocks through high school—at least when it came to physical fitness.

Though he never actually trained to fight, the one time he had been attacked physically the other guy had definitely come out the loser. Sasuke supposed it was just instinct. He was the son of a former martial arts champion-turned-cop, after all, and had seen video of his father in his prime. Not to mention the competitions he’d been to of his older brother’s before Itachi, too, had taken the steps towards becoming a police officer. Whatever the reason, the outcome of that one fight had convinced most people not to get physical with Sasuke. It only had a slight effect on the verbal taunting, though, as they’d learned that Sasuke was not one to actually start fights, but he sure as hell finished them.

Thinking about that fight now filled Sasuke with a melancholy sense of nostalgia. That had been one of the few times in his life his father had actually been proud of him. Despite the fact Fugaku had been upset to be called to his son’s school because of a fight, he had been glad Sasuke had stood up for himself. And, more than the words expressing this, the stern smile and the light in his father’s eyes had told Sasuke so. If only he hadn’t been such a disappointment in every other aspect of his life…

Sasuke shook his thoughts from his head harshly. Dwelling on the past never did anyone any good—especially not him. He was who he was, and whether or not that pleased his father did not matter as much now as it had then. He was his own man now, with his own life, and he would not allow feelings of inadequacy to dictate it for him.

Finding his head entirely too full of unwanted thoughts and memories of all sorts, Sasuke decided a good workout was exactly what he needed. He got up, stretched, and got dressed in sweats, a T-shirt, and sneakers before beginning his actual pre-workout stretching. In the midst of this, he decided a visit to the toilet first was much in order. Before he could even step past the threshold of the bathroom doorway, though, Sasuke stopped in his tracks.

His hand on the door handle made the knob rattle noisily, but Sasuke paid it no mind. Currently, he was more concerned with the smell of congealing blood on the gaping head and slack mouth of the thing he’d just come nose to nose with. Nose to nose. Dead eyes to black eyes. Slack, blood-crusted mouth to slack, scream-dead-on-his-lips mouth.

Sasuke closed his eyes, willing the monstrosity to go away, as his limbs were once again frozen in fear and would not move. He could still feel it there, though, staring at him. And though he knew it did not need to breathe—indeed, he felt no breath puffing out to meet his own short, desperate gasps—Sasuke could smell it; could taste it; could hear it echoing in his eardrums as if it were the only sound to hear. That smell of death and decay; that taste of blood and rot; that wet, rattling sound of bloody lungs desperately trying to squeeze every last drop of air out of and into their starving alveoli.

Wishing he could move to cover his ears at least, Sasuke then heard a new sound. The sound of harsh, strangled gulping. Then those lips were smacking; the skin—sticky with drying blood—pulling apart with soft ripping sounds before the addition of the tongue and fresh blood made the smacking sound far wetter. Then the breathing again; but no, it wasn’t the same. This sound was new also. Almost as if…

“Saaaaa,” the ghost rasped out, making Sasuke’s heart leap into his throat and get stuck there.

Finally finding the ability to move, Sasuke’s eyes snapped open only to be able to guide him through his apartment without injury as he quickly fled his haunted domicile. Before he knew it, his feet were hitting the pavement across the street from his building, yet he still did not slow. It was several more blocks before a cramp made itself known—thanks largely in part to his still-full bladder—forcing Sasuke to stop and catch his breath. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest, the fear still quite real and singing deafeningly through his body with every rapid pump of his blood.

Trying to calm himself down, Sasuke looked around himself to get his bearings. He was right next to a 7-Eleven—the only place in the vicinity, as far as he could tell, that was open at this hour. Not his normal choice for shopping of any kind, but it would do for a place to relieve his bladder since they had restrooms inside. After that, he would buy himself a bottled water and go for a run. He still wanted to exercise in some way, now even more than before since he’d had a double-dose of early morning scares. Surely a rush of endorphins, rather than fear-sparked adrenaline, would be good for him.

It was not until he was contemplating the bottled waters that he remembered he had not brought his wallet with him. Cursing the circumstances that had brought him into this situation, Sasuke left the convenience store empty-handed and started his run in the direction of the nearest “bike path” that spanned the city. It would eventually lead to a park, and there were water fountains there.

*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*

Friday morning dawned bright and sunny for Naruto. He was determined to accomplish his goal today!

Yesterday he’d gotten an urgent call from Temari to come back to the office, and had left the café in a rush only to find out she’d wanted her girlfriend to meet him. Unfortunately, said girlfriend had had to leave before Naruto had gotten back. Naruto had been annoyed, but the slight flattery in the reason for his irritation made him hold his tongue for anything beyond a grumpy, “That was your emergency?”

After that, there hadn’t really been any point in going back to Borders, cute-but-bastardly barista aside. His break was over. Tsunade had told Shizune to take messages for her for the rest of the afternoon, and that she was not to be disturbed, leaving Naruto S.O.L. as far as his mission was concerned. He’d reluctantly returned to his job of reading through other unsolicited manuscripts and their synopses, eager for the day to end, only to receive an e-mail from Shizune telling him he really needed to start taking his work home with him in order to make any real headway. He’d obediently taken the rest of a box home with him, and spent the remainder of his evening reading quietly alongside his housemate, who was studying for Med School.

But today was a new day! He would make it in to see Tsunade no matter what! Unfortunately for him, when he got in Tsunade was already in a meeting, and it was scheduled to last all morning. After a couple hours of the usual humdrum, though, he just couldn’t wait anymore.

He left his office and stalked toward the elevator, not even bothering to answer Temari’s questioningly-raised eyebrow as he passed her with his fists clenched at his sides; he was a man on a mission. His foot tapped impatiently against the beat of the elevator music as he stared down the slowly-highlighting floor numbers above the doors. Finally his floor came, being signaled to him with a satisfying ding, and he practically pried the doors apart in his haste to leave the elevator and walk determinedly to Tsunade’s office.

Not even giving Shizune a chance to deter him, Naruto burst into his boss’s office, declaring, “Tsunade, I need to see you!”

Four heads turned his way as he strode resolutely to her desk.

“Sorry, kiddo, you’re not my type,” the blonde older woman smirked at him, making him stumble in his final step, the hand that had been about to slam on her desk barely managing to stop him from falling on his face.

“Th-that’s not what I meant, and you know it!” he exclaimed, fighting the pink attempting to color his tan cheeks.

“Really? I could have sworn you called me ‘Tsunade’ just now, and insisted we see each other,” she replied innocently. Then her eyes turned shrewd and narrow, lips tightening into a stern downturn as a shadow grew ominously over her face. “Whatever else could you mean, barging in here in the middle of a meeting and speaking to your boss in such a familiar manner?”

Naruto managed to keep his reaction down to a barely audible “eep” in the back of his throat. Tsunade could be scary sometimes.

“Ah, sorry, Ms. Senju,” he corrected himself hurriedly, rubbing the back of his head nervously and clearing his throat a bit when the squeak in his voice made him cringe. “I just really need to speak with you about something.”

Tsunade sighed. “Well, it’s just as well, I suppose. I’m done with you people anyway,” she addressed the three other people in the room, shooing them away with a careless wave of her hand.

Her movement finally drew Naruto’s attention to the other people in the room, and he turned around to see three elderly people seated in front of Tsunade’s desk. He hadn’t even realized he’d walked between two of the three chairs to get to Tsunade’s desk.

“I don’t believe we’re quite finished with you, Princess,” one of the two old men told Tsunade condescendingly, his two-handed grip tightening on the cane between his legs.

She scowled at the eyepatch-wearing man. “Don’t patronize me, Danzou! I said we’re done, so we’re done.”

“Tsunade,” the old woman sitting between the old men said sternly. Her eyes were squinted so much they appeared to be closed. The wrinkled skin hanging from her jowls, added to her squinty eyes, made her appear to be wearing a perpetual disapproving frown. “You can’t just ignore this situation. It will only get worse with neglect.”

The scowl still hadn’t left the blonde woman’s face, and was now being directed at the old woman. “I’ll handle it, okay?! Stop badgering me about it!”

Naruto could feel the tension and hostility in the room as if it were something tangible, nearly choking him now that he wasn’t so distracted by his own actions. This was not a pleasant meeting. His eyes flitted back and forth between his boss and the three scowling elderly people seated in front of her desk. The third man let out a heavy breath of irritation, adjusting his black-framed glasses.

“It’s obvious you are unable to handle this on your own, or you would have. I’m afraid we’ll have to take matters into our own hands—”

Tsunade cut him off angrily, standing abruptly as she hollered, “I said I’d handle it! Now leave me the hell alone, I have work to do!” As she yelled this, she strode to her door, yanked it open, and stood there with one hand on the knob and the other set firmly on her hip.

With many grunts and grumblings, the three older people stood and walked towards the open door. After the woman and glasses-wearing man had already passed into the hallway, the man with a cane—which Tsunade had addressed as ‘Danzou’—stopped and looked at her.

“Just because you’re technically the President of this company doesn’t mean I will let you run it into the ground in this way, Princess. You’d better get your act together or you’ll find yourself overthrown before you can even blink.”

As if just to spite him and his words, Tsunade blinked—slowly. Then she glared at him with narrowed eyes, looking for all the world as if she were willing the X-shaped scar on his chin to suddenly split his face apart.

Danzou’s cane pounded the floor loudly as he turned from her and finally exited the room. Tsunade slammed the door shut behind him. With a solemn face, she walked back to her desk and gave a long, tired sigh as she sat in her chair, rubbing her forehead. Naruto was tempted to mirror her actions, just from the residual poisonous aura surrounding them, left behind by that man.

“Is… something wrong?” he ventured, hoping she would tell him what was going on.

She glanced at him and sighed again. “Nothing that concerns you, Uzumaki. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—” he tried insisting, hating the unease of feeling something wrong but having no explanation for it. However, she cut him off with the raise of a manicured hand and a shake of her head.

“Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Oh…oh, yeah!” he exclaimed, hands gesticulating with his realization that he’d almost forgotten his important task. “I need to talk to you about a manuscript I think we should publish.”

She gave him an appraising look. “You know the proper procedure for recommending new publications,” she reminded him strictly.

“Yeah, but those procedures don’t work for me,” he told her.

At her raised eyebrow, he explained.

“I followed your procedure like I was supposed to, but the senior editor it ended up with is a pompous ass! He didn’t even give it a chance before tossing it in the trash! I know this story is good, Ms. Senju. I think the author has the potential to go far, too, so I just couldn’t let it end so easily! Since the “proper procedure” didn’t work, I had to find my own way!”

Tsunade’s pink-lipsticked lips quirked to the side thoughtfully. “Hmm, you’re kind of annoying, but I can’t help but be charmed by your spunk, kiddo. Alright, let me see this brilliant manuscript, then.”

“Er, well… I kind of forgot it,” Naruto admitted sheepishly, his hand returning to its familiar gesture of rubbing the back of his blond head.

He could see the mocking amusement in Tsunade’s honey-brown eyes as she told him to hurry up and go get it, and he rushed to do just that.

After returning with the requested item, he handed it to her and watched with bated breath as she took it from him.

Seeing her consider the title page with a frown, he released his breath and took another to tell her, “I know the title needs some work, but the story sounds really good. Please, just give it a chance? I have a good feeling about this.”

She glanced up at him briefly before returning her gaze to the papers in her hand. She flipped through a few pages, perusing them with apparent half-interest. Each page she carelessly turned made Naruto’s heart sink lower and lower. Finally, she got to the last page, read the synopsis for the remainder of the story, and closed the manuscript with an air of finality.

Naruto’s head dropped, eyes closed with sadness and regret. He wasn’t quite sure why it was making his heart hurt for some stranger’s work of fiction to be officially rejected, but he couldn’t deny that very real feeling in his chest. It nearly made it hard to breathe, it was so strong!

“Okay, Uzumaki,” Tsunade’s voice broke through his internal turmoil.

His eyes snapped open and flew to her face. “What?”

“I said ‘okay’,” she told him, slightly annoyed from having to repeat herself.

“Okay?”

“Yes, ‘okay’! Stop making me repeat myself or I’ll take it back!”

Still not exactly sure if she was saying what he hoped she was saying, Naruto asked to clarify, “You mean… you’ll publish it?”

Tsunade groaned. How had she managed to hire such a brilliant dunce? She nodded at him, becoming too tired for words of repetition.

“Yes! Alright! Whoo!” Naruto exclaimed, literally jumping for joy at her confirmation.

Tsunade’s blonde brows rose as high as they could go at Naruto’s reaction. Was this kid really almost twenty-six years old? Catching herself smiling indulgently at his childish antics, Tsunade decided it was time to sober him with the drop of the other shoe.

“Okay, okay, there is a stipulation or two, though.”

Naruto’s celebration stopped abruptly, one hand still in the air as he looked at her bewilderedly. “Huh?”

“All the senior editors are pretty busy right now, and I can’t afford to have them put off the work they’re doing for the already-established authors we deal with.”

He made to protest, but she cut him off before he could get a word out. “However, your reputation of great intuition in these things precedes you—that’s a big part of why I hired you, after all. So I’m putting all my money on your intuition.”

“But what about—” Naruto started, but was again cut off with an upraised hand.

Tsunade smirked at him. “You are going to handle this guy.”

Naruto’s jaw dropped open. “Really?!”

Her smirk quirked wider as she nodded, but almost immediately dropped and changed to a look of incredulity as Naruto’s celebratory exclamations suddenly renewed with fervor.

*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*

Naruto couldn’t believe his luck. He contemplated it on the dreamlike elevator ride back to his floor. Not only was the story he’d endorsed going to be published, but he was going to be the lead editor in charge of it! That meant that he was going to personally handle any interaction that needed done with the author, and that included meeting him face-to-face to discuss not only plans for this book, but future stories as well! Naruto was so excited, he was moving up in this company faster than even he’d expected!

Well, truthfully he was still only a junior editor, and still had to take care of his other responsibilities even while taking on the new task of dealing with this author. This would be like a trial run to test Naruto’s real skills, Tsunade said. It was a risk to give a newbie like him so much responsibility and freedom, she’d said, but just as Naruto had counted on, she was a gambling woman. For whatever reason, she trusted his instincts. And he was determined to make her reputation of being “The Born Loser” a thing of the past! In this aspect, anyway.

Tsunade may be known for her losses, but Naruto had never made a bet he didn’t win. This time would be no exception. He had no doubt in himself, or the potential of his newest charge.

Still riding his current high of elation, Naruto practically floated back to his office, manuscript in hand, and prepared to deliver an important call to one Shikamaru Nara. He knew from both the phone number and address included that this guy was local, which meant Naruto wouldn’t have to rearrange much of anything to meet with him right away. He briefly wondered if the guy would be home right now, or if he had a day job. Then, realizing from the exchange that it must be a cell phone, he shrugged his wonderings away and simply dialed.

*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*

Shikamaru was getting ready for work when his cell phone went off in his pants pocket. Wondering who it could be, he fished it out of his pocket with a click of his tongue at the annoying ringtone (they were all annoying). The number showed up on the ID, but not the name. He decided to answer it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Shikamaru Nara?” a cheerful, male voice greeted him.

“Yes…” he replied uncertainly.

“Hi! My name is Naruto Uzumaki, and I’m an editor with Loose Leaf Publishing. You recently sent us a manuscript, and I am just calling to tell you that we are definitely interested. I’d like to set up a time to meet with you and discuss things. You do live here in town, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Shikamaru answered in somewhat of a daze.

An editor was calling him personally to talk about his book? Was this really happening?

“Great!” the sunny voice replied. “How about we meet somewhere this weekend? Or would a weekday work better for you?”

Shikamaru thought for a moment. He worked an odd, midday shift Saturday, but was off Sunday.

“Sunday would work fine for me,” he answered. “Around one?”

“Okay, sounds great! How about we meet at Kurenai’s Dinette on Broadway?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, see you then! Bye!”

With that, the call ended, leaving Shikamaru bewildered and slowly becoming aware of the eager anticipation building up within him. He wondered why that Naruto guy had sounded just as excited, if not more so. Shouldn’t he be the one making bubbly, energetic exclamations? Not that that was really his personality, but still… All that excitement just over the three chapters he’d sent in with his outline?

Well, one thing was for sure: this Naruto Uzumaki had definitely sparked his interest. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought, wondering what Sunday would bring.

*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*

After a couple hours of running that morning, and about another hour of wandering the wooded paths in the park, Sasuke finally grew both too tired and too hungry to ignore. The sun was well into its ascent through the sky by then, so Sasuke figured it wasn’t too early to go visit his mother. It had been a couple weeks since he had done so, and she was always happy to get a surprise visit from her youngest son. She was also always happy to prepare food for him, without him even asking. It was a win-win situation.

It took some time to run from the park to his parents’ house. He wasn’t sure how much time exactly, since he wasn’t wearing a watch, but he knew his running time had slowed significantly due to his hunger and fatigue. When he finally did get there, though, both his father’s and his mother’s cars were missing. A ring of the doorbell confirmed the fact that both his parents were gone and the house was currently empty.

‘Figures,’ he thought to himself, feeling especially moody because of his hunger.

With a sigh, he crouched down and dug beneath the foliage beside the small porch, searching for the faux rock his mother kept there. Finding it, he turned it over and slid open the hidden door to reveal the compartment inside. Glad that the key was still in its usual spot, Sasuke used it and put it back immediately before stepping into his parents’ house.

The kitchen was his first stop. He made himself a sandwich and a glass of juice, and ate his humble meal at the island counter in the kitchen rather than the dining room table. After placing his used dishes in the dishwasher, and cleaning up any crumbs that had escaped his plate, Sasuke headed upstairs to the shower. He badly needed one, in his opinion.

The bathroom with the tub and shower was across the hall from his old bedroom, so after his shower he went there in search of clean clothes to change into. He had taken almost all his things with him when he’d moved out a few years ago, but his mother still kept some of his old clothes here in a small dresser. She didn’t like to throw any of her children’s things away, and throwing out anything of Sasuke’s was especially hard for her because he was her baby. She had been completely against him moving out in the first place, because of his problems, so she kept his old room furnished and his clothes there for him just in case.

Though he found her reasoning aggravating and patronizing, Sasuke chose not to complain much. He still fit reasonably into most of the clothes he’d worn at the end of high school, so he found the setup handy for times like this, when he just happened to want a shower or a nap while he was over. In this case, he wanted both. After putting on some boxers and a black t-shirt with a faded band name on it, Sasuke went downstairs to throw his sweaty clothes and wet towel into the wash, and then returned to his old room to lay on his bed.

He was out within minutes.

*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~*

Hours later, Sasuke woke up gasping from a repeat of his nightmare from earlier. It was exactly the same, from the blood on the blond, to the words he spoke, to the manner in which Sasuke woke from it. He sat up groggily, cringing at the feel of the sweat-soaked sheets beneath him, and feeling entirely unrested despite having slept for nearly six straight hours. That dream just would not leave him in peace.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts and calm down, Sasuke was jumping out of his skin in the next instant when someone suddenly spoke from his bedside.

“Bad dreams, little brother?”

“God—!” he gasped. “Itachi! What the fuck!” he exclaimed at his older brother, hoping the anger would cover up the panic. It didn’t.

A raised eyebrow was the only response his invective provoked from the older Uchiha sibling.

“What are you doing here?!” Sasuke demanded.

“I could ask you the same thing, but I know it would be pointless. In answer to your question, I am here to pick something up for father. Mother is taking Aunt Uruchi to her doctor’s appointment today, so she couldn’t bring it to him.”

“What was it dad needed?” Sasuke asked to distract himself from the confusion he suddenly felt.

Why would his mother need to take his aunt to the doctor? Aunt Uruchi could drive just fine. Also, why couldn’t he seem to get up from the bed? He felt like he kept scooting and struggling, but never made it any closer to the edge—like he was stuck on some strange, pointless loop, with the edge of the bed becoming further and further away.

“It was…” Itachi said, and something in his voice made Sasuke look back up at him, watching in horror as all their surroundings turned a bright, blood red that was mirrored in his brother’s eyes, and they both became like black-and-white negatives of themselves.

“This,” Itachi finished, and his black mouth showed a peek of a white tongue before black teeth flashed at Sasuke in a maniacal grin. Then his crooked hand stretched out to Sasuke, as if in offering, and Sasuke saw a large, white lump of something. Something that looked suspiciously like a…

A drop of bright white liquid splashed to the black-and-white stripes of the wooden floor as the lump pulsed in Itachi’s hand. The sound echoing all around him only gave further proof of what it was.

Sasuke felt tears springing to his eyes. His heart hurt in sympathy for the one now being squeezed in Itachi’s viselike grip, its desperate beating growing weaker and weaker with each passing moment.

“Itachi…why?!” he heard himself scream in a voice he’d long ago grown out of.

Itachi merely grinned at him, his fist finally having mercy and crushing the pitiful organ. Sasuke felt a wave of nausea overcome him as he heard the squelch and then the plop of torn bits of tissue and blood hitting the floor. The sound echoed all around him along with the sound of his retching. He turned his eyes away in desperation, only to see that he was now sitting in his own vomit, and still the edge of the bed was eluding him.

He looked back up, wary of Itachi and what he would do now that the heart was destroyed. Didn’t father need that? What would Itachi do, now that he had destroyed it? Wouldn’t he need another heart?

Sasuke gulped with this thought. Itachi’s grin grew impossibly wider; so much so that he swore it split the older, now-white haired man’s face in two.

“Why?” Sasuke’s childlike voice whimpered. Then, with a burst of rage, Sasuke took a deep breath and screamed, “Itachi! WHY?!”

As if the sheer volume of his words alone had cut him open, blood began running in rivers from Itachi’s suddenly-bare and gaping chest. The older Uchiha dropped to his knees, a more familiar smile crossing his black lips as the blood gradually slowed to a trickle.

“Soon enough, Sasuke…”


TBC

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A/N: Yay! I managed to accomplish all my goals for this chapter. Incidentally, after the last chapter, I wrote myself a simple outline note since I knew it would be a few days before I wrote on this again (what with Naruto’s birthday and all…). Those notes were: Check in with Naruto…have visit with Tsunade, call Shika. Check in with Shika. Scare Sasuke. Hehe, yep, accomplished my chapter goals…

Like I said at the beginning, thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed. Please keep them coming, because they’re keeping me interested in this, and I really don’t want to lose interest! So, drop me a line, ‘k?

As usual, anyone wanting e-mailed when I update can tell me in either a review or an e-mail. I don’t mind doing that at all.

Until next time…

&hearts

~ lg