Good Boy Meets Bad Boy

Good Boy Meets Bad Boy


Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

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Chapter 5

Dead Man’s Party [Part Two]

[Sasuke’s POV]

I find myself frozen in my spot.

Tie me up?

Make sure I don’t leave? What the hell have I gotten myself into? Is this what Shikamaru was talking about?

“You got it, boss!” The same brunette chirps, happy to have some excitement in the alley as he hops off the dumpster, Neji sliding off suit of him.

I take a few wary steps backward and bump into Gaara. Gaara shoves me forward vehemently, catching me off balance and I topple to the ground hard, my knees and palms catching my fall. The pavement digs angrily into my kneecaps through my pant legs and I wince, thinking of the bruises that would swell later.

I shoot Gaara a pissy glare and yell, “Watch it!” and manage to hide the squeak that tried to come out with it. Despite being able to keep my voice from cracking with fear, I found myself spitting grainy dirt and loose asphalt from my mouth. The feeling of sand and rocks against your teeth wasn’t the best, so I’m displaying my displeasure of the taste by spraying it across the ground level with my face.

Gaara has his foot firmly planted on my head, squeezing my face between the sole of his shoe and the cold, unpleasant pavement. There’s a distinct ringing in my ears, most likely caused by the stomp on my head and a warm puddle of liquid in the junction of where one side of my face connected with the ground that could only be recognized as blood.

I squeeze my eyes shut as hard as I can, trying to collect my now spinning thoughts, courtesy of the dizziness that ensued after the blow.

I had to think and FAST.

There had to be some way out of this mess I’ve got myself into.

I’ve never been in a fight before – I don’t know HOW to fight! I guess it’s basic, but… if it’s so basic then why am I being so easily taken advantage of?

I feel a sudden dead weight being lifted off my head and realized that Gaara removed his foot and sneers with a callous voice, “He’s not going any where.”

Like fuck I’m not.

I push up off the ground with speed I didn’t know I had and bolted down the alley and hear, “He’s getting away!” behind me. The only thought that ran through my head was RUN! And so I did as fast as my legs could carry me.

Gaara with an angry twitch shouts, “Kiba, get off your ass and stop him!”

“Shutup, I’m on it!” Kiba yells, right on my tail without me realizing it.

I manage to deftly duck out of a swing from said boy’s right arm, that would have hooked around my neck had I not BARELY missed it! I turn to glance behind me to see how narrow that dodge was when a set of knuckles connects hard to my sternum and grabs a fistful of my blazer. Jerked forward, my eyes fly open into a set of hot-eyed red ones that feel like they’re literally burning into me.

How can anyone have red eyes naturally? They have to be some sort of theatrical contact lenses.

I’m pulled in close to the hooded kid’s face where I can barley make out intricate features on his face under the heavy shadow. There are whisker-like marks, three on each side of his face and I couldn’t tell if they were tattoos or scars in the darkness of his clothing. He has a very babyish face, from what I could tell.

“Who are you?” I contrive to grit out, not exactly thinking as straight as I wanted to.

Kyuubi, as Kiba referred to him, doesn’t say anything to me, but pan my body up and down and I had to say I felt very unnerved by the way he was eyeing me like a piece of meat.

I could actually look down at him though. Not because he had me elevated to the tops of my toes with the way he held me fastened close, but because he was actually shorter than me – WAY shorter. Like little-kid short!

Kyuubi glances over his shoulder warily as Neji approaches behind him, “Is the car ready?” He asks the older boy and gets a silent nod.

Car? Holy shit, I’m going to be taken hostage!

“What – what do you want from me?” I croak out, throat suddenly very dry and I can feel tears prick my eyes and burn my nose painfully from the slow decrease of oxygen.

Kyuubi yanks me so close I can feel warm breath on my face and I’m afraid the cigarette hanging out of his mouth is going to burn my lips, “What’s your last name?” There’s a condescending tone he uses when he asks me and it makes my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Uchiha,” I stutter slightly, trying to regain proper footing now that I’m no longer lifted.

The blonde smirks at me devilishly, looking like a Hell spawn, “Then you should know what we want with you, Uchiha.”

The way he says my name sickens me because my stomach suddenly flutters in a very inappropriate manner for my current situation. Stupid horomones!

When he releases me, my body instinctively reacts with a twitch to run, but Kiba’s already on me with a knife pressed to the front of my throat, grabbing my arms fiercely with the help of Gaara and hisses menacingly in my ear, “Don’t move, pretty boy. Wouldn’t want to slice ya throat here.”

I want to swallow, a simple reaction to my panic, but I had to restrain myself in fear that just that small movement alone would cause the knife to dig further into my skin than necessary. There was already a blotchy red mark of irritation around my neck from the blade as it was.

A scratchy cord is being looped around my arms, binding them painfully behind my back in a position that I was sure if I were jerked around they would dislocate.

I struggle as I’m bumped forward roughly, “Let go of me! Let go!”

I hear barks of laughter from Kiba as a foot comes into brash contact with my back, forcing me to the ground again. I turn my head to the side quickly to prevent a broken nose and land on my cheek instead. Landing on my head PERIOD wasn’t the best thing, but it wasn’t like I had my hands to break my falls anymore now that they were constricted behind my back.


I grunt in pain as Kiba digs the heel of his shoe into my spine, cackling through his ministrations. Coughing the blood out of my mouth that formed from falling on the side of my face, I whimper and at that moment decided I might’ve had a few cracked teeth and maybe a fractured cheekbone.

“Aw, look, the little Uchiha-brat is going to cry,” Kiba taunts and I feel something warm and slimy slap against my face. It comes clear to me that said boy spit on me and I’m positively disgusted.

“Get ‘em in the car,” I hear Kyuubi rumble over my head followed by the sound of multiple footsteps passing me by before I’m jerked upward by my bound arms, giving forth a hurtful yelp until I’m lastly back on my feet.

Tossed recklessly into the car like a mistreated rag doll, I squirm to get back on my side so I could look at my assailants, “Is it money you guys want? I don’t got any!” And I’m only answered with an agitated “shutup.”

I knew reasoning with them was probably pointless, but what else would these creeps be after? Knowing how wealthy my last name is – that’s really the only thing I hold worthy to them. Money.

I hear Kiba yap something about a cute little cash cow and I groan tiredly, letting my face sink into the leather interior of the mystery car I had been thrown into.

My reaction time is seriously down because it took me several, long minutes to comprehend that there were hands on my face, touching and stroking in ways that made me severely uncomfortable.

“Wha-what are you—?” I struggle out, trying inch myself across the squeaking seats and out of Kiba’s grasp.

“He’s got a pretty little face, don’ he, guys?” And there’s a suggestive licking of his lips.

I catch a smirk out of Neji from the corner of my eyes, which suggests he either agrees with Kiba or finds Kiba’s actions are amusing.

“There’s nothing like breaking little, innocent rich kids~” Kiba chirps, tracing the tip of his knife merrily down the front of my blazer.

I close my eyes slowly and take solid breaths through my nose and exhale out of my mouth, trying to keep my wracked nerves loose. I find it relatively easy to block out this kid’s taunts and the fact he’s got a blade dangerously close to my body, but when I feel cold metal slide under the waist line of my uniform pants, I jerk out of habit, knicking myself in the process, but succeeding in putting a few more inches between us.

“Don’t touch me you faggot!”

Why does my mouth act before my brain?

There was an uncanny silence that built darkly through the cab of the car. I swallow a very sizeable lump in my suddenly parched throat and squirm backwards, my head scrunched up by the car door. Kiba’s giving me a glare that could pierce through armor, raising his right arm that just so happened to be wielding the knife I was trying to be cautious about.

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of my face and a tiny breath escapes me as the knife is released from Kiba’s hand from where it had penetrated the leather seat beside my head.

Neji slows to a stop and releases the wheel, turning briskly in the driver’s seat and grabs a handful of Kiba’s open blazer and slams him up against the seat violently, “You fucking idiot! You put another mark on my car and I’ll put a bullet through your head!”

Kiba growls defensively and throws Neji’s hand off him, “Back the fuck off, you prick! I’ll do what I want – who cares about your precious, car!”

Gaara’s got this little, faint smile on his face, looking thoroughly amused by Kiba and Neji’s childish dispute. He’s slack against the other car window with one leg propped up on the seat next to Kiba with his arms contentedly crossed over his chest.

Stupid prick-bastard.

Gaara opens one eye at Kiba, smirks wider and says, “If you want to cut up something so bad, then cut the Uchiha.”

WHAT?

“Gaara!” I yell fearfully, “What the hell is your problem?!”

I think if Gaara had the ability to laugh he would have, but the only thing that comes close to it is a simper.

“Shutup your fucking face, Uchiha!” Kiba snaps at me, yanking the blade out of the seat.

Kyuubi’s been the only one who has yet to say a word the entire car ride to unknown location, while Kiba makes giggly conversation about cutting me to ribbons and what new clothes he planned on buying, and something or other about marijuana.

Great, so they’re druggies too?

My arms are beyond cramped. I can’t feel them anymore as I writhe about against the seat, crammed between Kiba, who’s practically in my scrunched lap and the car door.

Kiba howls and grabs my ass suddenly and gives me a forceful pinch, “Hey, Sasuke’s got a fatass! Like a fucking girl!”

“H-hey! Stop it!” I yell, twisting away so I’m lying flat on my back and Kiba squeals in delight, pleased with my reaction. These guys are fucking nuts.

I’ve been assaulted like that several times in my life, but only by the girl stalkers of my schools. A male has never touched me sexually, and I wasn’t sure what to think other than gross despite the red tinge to my cheeks I was positive was there.

These crazy, psychotic bastards are taking me hostage, going to rob my family of everything they own, and molest me!

My life is so short.

Kiba’s hands find their way on to my pants and I yell, “What the hell are you doing?! Get off!” And I give my hips a wild thrust to buck the brunette off me.


He just laughs and pins me down and unfastens the button with ease and is about to give the waistline of said clothing a firm tug when Neji suddenly slams on the breaks, sending Kiba tumbling into the front cab unceremoniously. I however, roll to the floor with an unkind thud.

Spluttering, Kiba viciously screeches, “Neji, you fucking cockbite!” He scrambles to a sitting position, pushing himself up rapidly between Kyuubi and Neji. “You fucking did that on purpose, you cunt!”

Gaara does something that sounds like a snicker, “Kiba, you call a girl a cunt, not a guy.”

“Neji LOOKS like a fucking girl so that should count for something!” The brunette growls, stumbling into the backseat again and hoists me off the floor and into his lap.

Yea, that’s good logic.

Neji just gives a retorting grunt and turns off the ignition. Wherever it was they were driving to, we had finally arrived.

Kyuubi’s the first to kick open the car door, manhandling Neji’s car in a fashion the pale-eyed brunette wasn’t going to like and snaps, “Hurry the fuck up, you guys.”

Twenty minutes later [and twelve minutes of reassuring myself I might live another five of those minutes] and I’ve been successfully taken captive into someone’s home.

“Kiba, I told you to pick up your shit,” Kyuubi growls, distastefully kicking a soda can powerfully across the room.

“What the fuck ever, brat,” Kiba growls and tosses me onto a ratty old couch.

“Nice words to use, Kiba. Careful, you may not live long enough to fuck Uchiha over here,” Gaara says with a swig of his head in my direction.

I make a very displeased face then and I’m not sure if it was because of a stench permeating from an unknown source that can’t visibly be located in the [what looked to be an apartment] room or at what Gaara said.

For all that it was worth, I voted on the latter.

“Like he’ll fucking do anything,” Kiba grunts and flops hard onto the sofa beside me and gives me a pleased look over.

They… act like four-year-olds, I swear to god. Okay, so I got threatened with a knife and felt up, big deal [okay, it was a big deal, leave me alone]. But they’re really not capable of anything THAT horrible, were they?

Kyuubi comes back out, and despite being indoors he still doesn’t remove that ridiculously huge hood. He lights up another cigarette with a flick of a Zippo and shrugs a shoulder to Kiba, “Untie him, dog-breath.”

With a peeved growl, Kiba does so. My arms clump to the cushions like iron weights and the pain finally comes back, telling me I had feeling again. When I gained enough confidence to lift myself again, Neji gets there before I do, running a quick hand into my hair and gathers a good handful. He yanks my head up off the couch and I yelp in both surprise and pain.

“So what do you want to do with him?” Neji asks and peers deep into my face. “I’ve got things to do.”

“If you’ve got ‘things’ to do, then go home, dumbfuck,” Kyuubi exhales a long stream of smoke from his mouth. Neji scowls at the boy, but from my angle it looks more like a girlish pout.

The smell of tobacco finally overrides whatever disgusting odor lingered and I instantly felt at home. Stupid smoking father and Itachi.

Neji gives another yank on my hair, wordlessly telling me to get up off the couch, so I do so quickly to not endanger myself. Kyuubi slowly advances towards me and with a wave of his hand Neji liberates me and pulls his hand out of my dark hair.

I stand straighter now and hurtfully rub the back of my head, shooting Neji a glare before I’m forced to look at Kyuubi out of fear he might do something while I’m not aware. The shorter blonde is staring right up at me, fiery eyes nearly looking right through me. Watching him with terror and curiosity, I try to look past his threatening gaze in hopes of seeing through him. There’s a strange mist to them; I couldn’t explain it, but through the deep fiery red, there was… blue. And I didn’t mean it literally, like as in the color blue, but blue as in sorrow. Or something like that…

Kyuubi pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and blows a line of smoke at me. I wince, the cloud burning my eyes as I wave it away and defend my poor airways with a cough.

“Hn,” Kyuubi gives me a simper as though amused at my actions. “Why are you here, Uchiha?” The boy asks me curiously, tipping his head up at me very slightly through the shadow of his hood.

A chill runs down my spine at the iciness of his voice, yet anger boiled through my veins at the rhetorical question, “I don’t know – you brought me here!”

There I go again. Shooting off my mouth without thinking about it first.

No matter how many more times I try to reassure myself that I just MIGHT survive this horror, I’m always met with the same, harsh reality that I was a dead man.

Kyuubi’s lips form a thin, taut line and his expression tells me he doesn’t think I’m funny. “Funny,” he cynically chides, “but that’s not what I meant.”

I swallow hard and judging by the arrogant smirk on the blonde’s face, I’m guessing he heard it.

“What’s a big-top rich kid doin’ in a shitty town like Konoha?” Kyuubi’s fiery red eyes blink slowly up at me, drawing me further and further in to whatever danger was taking me by the hand.

“My father,” I break the gaze suddenly, looking to Gaara, who had seated himself quite comfortably on the pullout next to Kiba and I continue, “built a new business site here.” I then look to Kiba, who fixed a foxy grin in my direction and gave his lips a hungry swipe of his tongue. Lastly, thoroughly disgusted with Kiba, my eyes scope over Neji, who’s looking prissy as ever, leaned against the large, balcony window with his arms promptly folded over his chest.

This whole brigade must be wasting his time. At least that’s what I’m reading in his eyes.

Turning to Kyuubi, I finish, “We had to move with him.” That’s all this weirdo needed to know.

Kyuubi does a good imitation of a panther. No, seriously. He prowls around me, circling my figure like a large cat would do to its prey, which, to say the least, didn’t ease my terror in the least bit. When he’s behind me, he twiddles his cigarette pensively between his thumb and forefinger.

I chance a fleeting look at Kyuubi from over my shoulder without giving myself away, though I’m sure I did with the noticeable twitch of my body.

“Aw, poor baby,” I hear Kiba mock from the couch, thoroughly amusing Gaara next to him. I seethe, glaring at the brunette with everything I could muster.

“Kiba, shut your fucking mouth before I blow a hole in it,” Kyuubi snaps.

“Fuck you too, then,” Kiba mouths back angrily, grumbling and sinking into the worn sofa.

Kyuubi’s speaking over my shoulder, right by my ear it seems and that’s when I realize the blonde is standing in front of me again. I jump, startled when he says, “People like you make me sick.”

I step away from him a good three strides backwards to put a more “comfortable” distance between us. Stiffening with a clench of my fists, I grit out, “People like me? What the hell did I do to you? I don’t even know you!”

“Apparently not,” Gaara’s smooth undertone indicates that I was either very ignorant or very lucky to be still standing. Light, green eyes look up at Kyuubi fearlessly, “I’m surprised you’re taking this brat so well.”

“Fuck off, Gaara,” Kyuubi says with a swing of his head, eyes circling back up to mine, “I never said he was safe.”

See? I told you I was a dead man.

“You always do what you’re told… Sasuke?”

There’s that feeling again! My stupid brain! Stupid, fucking body! I know my cheeks are red by the taunting smirk Kyuubi’s now giving me. There’s a glint of domination in his eye. Why is it when only HE says my name?

“Yes,” I mumble quietly, ducking my eyes to the floor and taking quick, sudden interest in the floorboards beneath my feet. Kyuubi just leans forward, bowing under me to peer directly into my face. The trail of smoke burns my eyes again, but I don’t move.

“So will you do what I tell you?”

I squeeze my eyes shut to relieve the pain. Feeling myself tremble, I whisper out lowly, “What do you want?”

“I need money,” Kyuubi leers, red eyes studying mine as though searching for more struggle.

I counter, “How much?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” the blonde repeats. “I’m going to take every fucking thing away from you.”

This kid has serious issues. Surprisingly, my brain doesn’t feel the need to say so – for once. I scrutinize the gang leader closely. He had to be my age, if not younger by a year at least. Neji, according to Sakura was a year older than us, and Kiba and Gaara were the same age… So relatively speaking, we were all close in age.

So what would four boys between the ages of fifteen and seventeen would be doing with so much money? Drugs? Alcohol? Guns? What?

There had to be more to it. Kiba looked like he was in this for kicks – the violence was a turn-on, I guess. Gaara seemed to be finding a way to escape his boredom, judging by the slack, emotionless mask he put on. And Neji, well, he was just a prick.

Kyuubi had an obvious death warrant on all wealthy teens, for reasons unknown. But what didn’t make sense was that if he had such an undying hatred for the rich, why was Neji here? He was a Hyuuga; his last name containing nothing but fame and money, like mine.

Maybe he tolerated Neji because they were in this for the same thing? It’s not like Neji gave a damn about his family or what they thought of him if he was stupid enough to belong to a gang. Unless of course, they were unaware. But it’s not like Neji made any efforts to hide his actions.

Kyuubi’s saying something to Kiba about getting the phones ready, but I’m not really quite sure. My mind was seriously jumbled, trying to configure the puzzle that was placed in front of me.

Suddenly a phone is thrust into my face and I’m eye-to-eye with the screen of a cell phone. “Call your father,” Kyuubi demands, “tell him your situation.”

I don’t take the phone. It’s not because I’m hesitating, in fact, I’m not apprehensive at all about this, but rather I just don’t want to. “What do you have against the wealthy?”

Kyuubi’s eyes narrow at me dangerously for sideswiping his command with a question, “Take the damn phone, Uchiha.”

Neji has a family – so he obviously must have parents. Gaara probably has parents, the kind that are ashamed and can’t control their wild-child. Kiba looks like he might belong to a single parent, most likely his mother, just judging by the way he portrays himself sexually wise.

So that singles out Kyuubi.

I want to narrow this down to a point of understanding.

“Neji’s rich,” I continue, my eyes sweeping over to the Hyuuga, who just retaliates with a glower. “And Gaara looks like he comes from an upstanding family.”

I think Gaara just blinked for the first time in his life.

Coming back from the kitchen, Kiba howls, “You’re in big trouble now, Blondie.” And if looks could kill, Kiba would have fallen over dead at the fierce look Kyuubi was giving him. “Looks like the Uchiha’s got ya figured out!”

Kyuubi’s on him in seconds with the nose of a handgun pressed into the underside of his jaw. The gun is cocked back with a hazardous click and Kyuubi hisses lowly, “Every time you open your goddamn mouth – I will fucking kill you!”

Sh…shit.

Note to self: They ARE capable of doing horrible things.

There’s a brief moment of fear in Kiba’s eyes before he vehemently knocks the gun out from under his chin with a loud growl, “Get the fuck out of my face, you fucktard!”

Stumbling back, Kyuubi’s gun goes off with a loud bang, leaving a shrill ringing in my ears and an uncanny silence in the room. There’s a nice round hole in the ceiling of the room. I hoped to god this place was abandoned.

There’s a long pause between all of us and I’m hesitant to even breathe. Gaara looks surprised as surprised could get for him, which was just a widening of his eyes. Neji is obviously startled, his cool posture against the glass ruffled and Kiba’s breathing hard, trying to regain composure from his fright.

With an agitated growl, Kiba stomps his foot childishly and flamboyantly thrusts a finger at Kyuubi, “You fucking numb nut! You could’a killed someone!”

Standing straight after he regained hearing, Kyuubi retaliates, “Yea?! What the fuck do you think I was gunna do?!”

“What the fuck ever, brat!” The brunette counters, infuriated beyond reason. “You fucking think your god, waving your stupid gun around like you own the fucking world! Just cos don’t got no one, you think your fucking better than everyone else – ya think you’re special!”

“Shut the FUCK UP, KIBA!” Kyuubi screeches so loud his voice nearly cracks.

“I got fucking news for you, Blondie: no one gives a fuck!” Was Kiba’s final retort before Kyuubi threw himself at him, Gaara and Neji jumping to their feet in a flash to stop the brawl.

Somehow my feet move before my brain registers my body’s actions and my arms have locked themselves under Kyuubi’s flailing ones, hauling him backwards and away from Kiba, who is being restrained by Neji and Gaara.

“Kiba, shut the fuck up will ya?” Neji growls by his head, jerking him back harshly.

Kiba wrenches forward in attempts to break out of Neji’s grasp and yells back, “Get the fuck off, girly-brat! That dumbfuck over there needs the shit kicked out of him!”

Kyuubi fights harder against me at the brunette’s statement and my grip tightens on his smaller figure, “Quit it!”

“Let me fucking go, Uchiha! I don’t want you touching me – get off!”

I’m pretty sure I counter attacked with a no, but it was a bit difficult to remember after I felt a rough fist connect hard with my jaw. I trip from the force of the punch and tumble backwards with a painful land on my rear.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Kyuubi roars at me, red eyes practically on fire.

At this point, Neji and Gaara must’ve gotten Kiba to calm down because the other boy had stopped yelling. All was quiet except for Kyuubi’s raucous ranting.

“You’ve got a lot of balls, Uchiha! What the fuck are you trying to prove? You want to fucking die?!”

Staggering to a weary, dizzy stand, I take a careful step back from the volcano that was about to erupt. I can feel him coming close to me with quick strides, yelling all the way.

“You stay the fuck out of this! You think you’re capable of doing anything just cos daddy pats you on the fucking head like a little puppy and gives you money! You’re just like everyone else, kissing ass and living your life as someone else’s puppet!”

I contrive to force out a murmured “shutup,” in my recovery, but Kyuubi wasn’t listening.

“I bet you can’t even wipe your own fucking ass without daddy or mommy’s help, can you?! Probably aren’t even allowed to make your own decisions! You were forced to come here, right?! Do you choose to do their bidding out of the goodness of your heart?” He asks with a mocking sweet tone to his voice. “I bet you don’t even realize how much your name controls you, do you?”

On my gravestone, I want a eulogy explaining my death. Stating how my body intrepidly reacted on a whim.

That eerie silence engulfed the room in suit of a bone-shattering crack. My fist was swinging back towards me after connecting powerfully with the side of Kyuubi’s face, throwing his weight backwards and head to the side.

Kyuubi sways backwards and throws a hand protective hand to his cheek.

Did I just… punch him in the face?


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Yey! End of chapter five! Another cliffy! X) *shot*
I am SO, so sorry for the slowness of this update! D: I realized you all got used to having the chapters up very quick up until this point >_>llll I’ve been busily working away at projects I have for my art and taking care of my kit~ so I’ve been a bit behind, but I promise I’ll have the next chapter up soon!
Please R & R!
Reviews are especially loved ;D
Oh, and I’ll post updates when I get pictures for the actual doujin started!