My good for nothing

A/N: So… It’s been a year… or two since I have updated. *cough* Luckily I have a great excuse. I have Cystic Fibrosis and have been in and out of the hospital a lot this past year. Getting older sucks. My grouchiness overflowed into my writing, that I had little time for anyway. I hate dark fics and had to abandon writing all together for awhile. BUT now I am back, full of vim and vigor… or whatever. I have started updating my fics again and am very excited to get the plots rolling. Thanks for your patience. I apologize for the extreme lateness of this.

WARNING: Insanity, language, mild gore, and violence.

DISCLAIMER: You should know the drill. If I owned Naruto or profited from my stories, I would have a car that ran over 60% of the time.

“A man is but a product of his thoughts, what he thinks, he becomes” - Gandhi


The fight for recognition.

Naruto didn’t think he’d ever been ignored this long before. Or quite so thoroughly. This teme (as the blonde had decided to affectionately call his tormentor) was really good at not seeing what was right in front of him. It did not matter how much the furry yelled, destroyed, belittled, cursed, or attacked the Uchiha. There was not one single bit of acknowledgement. It was especially creepy when he would engage in one-sided violence with his master. Punching someone and getting no reaction other than to wipe at blood smeared lips, was unnerving to say the least.

But most of all Naruto HATED being ignored.

This unnaturalness had been going on for just under two weeks now. A month they had been living together. The first two weeks of boisterous fighting, insults and some precious moments of understanding and peace. The last two weeks stillness permeated the house. It was too quiet.

Too dead.

Naruto had been trying his hand at anything and everything to beak the silence that filled his new world. So far little had worked. Destroying most of the porch and media room had brought a repairman. Although this was not considered an accomplishment by the blonde, as the man had been a real prick. No one liked to be told that they were a dirty, smelly, abominable monster.

The crimson eyed boy had been understandably affronted by these insults. Except he HAD been dirty and smelly. He just wasn’t a monster. The bath was now his permanent bedroom because of the insult. He washed his clothes and body there, he slept there, and he ate there. This saved on him the awkwardness of running into the Uchiha in the kitchen. But this kind of existence was starting to really grate on his nerves. That and the fact his master was fucking insane, made for a very unhappy furry.

Of course there had been the initial freak out when the dark eyed man had spilled the beans about his brother, but it hadn’t stopped there. In the days following he would catch his owner wandering the house a happy smile on his face as he engaged in conversation, with someone Naruto didn’t have the pleasure of seeing. Or the large meals Sasuke cooked and happily ate, seemingly unaware that the other three plates filled with food, weren’t being consumed. All of this was scary as Hell.

But worse were the screaming fits.

The ones where the Sharingan user would stumble down the hall pulling at his own hair, clawing at the walls, retching at horrors unknown to Naruto. Screaming until his voice was hoarse. Sometimes the brunette would snap out of whatever world he was living in, take a deep breath and go to the dojo or training grounds. Where he would proceed to train himself into unconsciousness.

“That teme has bigger issues than the Hokage’s tits” Naruto muttered to himself.

While this was all unsettling he had somehow managed to find, in himself, some of the humor he had once had. Training regularly, eating regularly, tasting fresh air, being allowed to walk around 5 miles of enclosed space, being clean. This was all having a positive affect on the slave, who only wished that the other living companion within these closed quarters, would go back to normal.

Naruto deeply regretted saying any of what he had felt out loud. If he had known opening his fat mouth would have such dire consequences, he would have kept it shut… Not that he thought he was wrong, just that the jerk was not ready to hear such a thing. Too stubborn and unreceptive.

It probably hadn’t been a good idea to decimate the Uchiha’s living room either. But it had been off. A certain smell that tickled his memory, made his chest constrict and his throat tighten. A lingering sensation that made his blood boil and his sleeping demon claw it’s way to the surface. He hadn’t even realized he had started ripping down artifacts and smashing them with clawed hands, until it was too late to stop. After the fight with Sasuke he could have just explained himself, but what a lame excuse that would be! That and Naruto was… embarrassed for his outburst. Sasuke had been his first ever kind master, and he had repaid that, by methodically ripping apart some of the last memories of his family.

So today he was going to fix everything. These last three days Sasuke had been normal. No weirdness anywhere to be found in his demeanor. In fact Naruto was sure that the brunette had sneered at him when the blonde had tripped over a piece of stray wood in the courtyard.

He had been mimicking the temes Tai Chi moves.

At first he had started the mimicry, to try and piss the bastard off. But after a few days he had come to like it… And thought that there were a few times, that Sasuke may have even waited to start, just so Naruto could be there to participate. These small signs had spurred the furry into action. He could not just sit on his proverbial ass and let this carry on. It was making him furious and it accomplished nothing.

Peering around the side of the house, he eyed the courtyard nervously. Right now was about the time for the Sharingan user to come out. Almost without fail, at dusk, Sasuke would practice his swordsmanship. The idea was to engage in a sparring match. To show that he didn’t want to hurt, just help.

It was genius.

Sasuke often looked frustrated while trying to pull off certain moves. You couldn’t grow very much when you didn’t have to improvise or go against a real opponent. The bastard would definitely respond to this. Hopefully in a positive way.
The slave gave himself a mental pat on the back. There was only one flaw in his brilliant plan.

Naruto had not a fucking clue how to use a sword.

Claws, yes. Daggers, shurikan, needles, he knew how to use all these. But a sword? No. Sweaty, tanned hands tightened over the sword hilt he was carrying. It was a practice sword he found in the dojo, and was smaller than all the others. It felt the least awkward for him to carry and he could whip it around faster than the others. Unfortunately there was more to swords than flinging them around randomly. The bruises and cuts all over his body bore testimony to that fact.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a dark head of hair making it’s way towards the open courtyard. Finally he was here. Dark sweats and arm guards were the only clothes the Uchiha wore. Black eyes glared around the courtyard for few moments before squinting in concentration. Abruptly the sword was out twirling flawlessly from one hand to the other. Moving with fluid motions and unnatural grace. Sharp powerful downward strokes that left neat deeply vertical stripes in the ground. The power he could see as the mans muscles moved under creamy skin.

Naruto licked his lips nervously.

‘This may not have been the best idea.’ he thought to himself before boldly stepping out of his hiding place, into plain sight.

He didn’t even get glanced at.

Clenching his teeth, Naruto cast aside his careful plan -of gauging his timing- and threw himself at the bastard that was causing him such frustration… and loneliness. The sword wavered in his sweaty grip, but held out, when it was met by Sasuke’s own. The sound of steel on steel, was the only thing heard in the courtyard.

Bodies moved back quickly as red eyes clashed with black. The anger and frustration mirror images. The Furry’s two handled grip on his sword tightened. Glaring, he gave a strangled cry, bringing his sword above his head, he launched himself in the air, and brought down his weapon. The force behind the blow would have toppled any other person. But his opponent merely grunted as he managed to deflect the weight of the attack.

Sasuke moved with swift sure strokes, as he slid his blade alone the length of his guest, an infuriating smirk made itself known, as he kicked at the blondes head with his foot. Naruto tried to jerk backward but the brunettes blade was firmly snuggled against the back of his swords guard. Since he didn’t let go of the sword, or have the presence of mind to swing his sword in another direction, the side of his face felt the full force of the kick.

Grunting in pain, he dove away and felt a sharp pain in his side. Looking down he saw his orange shirt sliced to ribbons along his left ribs. He was bleeding from a number of shallow slashes, and wondered how the hell they had gotten there so quickly. And why the fuck hadn’t he felt all of them? Snarling he turned to face his opponent, determination sparkling brightly in crimson eyes. His pain turned out to be worth it, as Sasuke calmly uttered to him the first words, he had heard directed at him, in two weeks.

“And that is why MY sword has no guard”

Naruto’s eyes widened, before filled with unrestrained relief. Smiling at the bastard, he readied himself for another attack. The thrill of a good match making his blood sing, the relief and happiness making doubts vanish and happiness take it’s place. Besides, after ruining the slaves only shirt, this asshole needed to pay…

*****************

Deidara was bored.

There had been no good jobs lately. Nothing to occupy himself with, but wandering the vast expanse of the compound, which he resided in. No one liked to talk to him but Sasori and even HE kept it to the minimum.

But that red head was more of THAT type then he was.

With no one to converse with, and nowhere to go, Deidara was getting frustrated. It didn’t help that he had been banned from making anymore of his beloved art. All his equipment had been taken from him and locked away in a ‘secure’ location. The blondie often entertained thoughts of going against authority and just taking back what was his. In an explosion of fire, blood, screams and body parts. He never did, he’d like to keep his skin, thank you very much.

Although Deidara did not much like authority, the people here demanded his respect and compliance. Oh not with words. Never with those. Only with sheer power and brutal punishments. But at the same time he liked it here. It was safer than out on the streets, he was given ‘jobs’ and allowed to mostly do as he pleased. When he blew up a building or two he had some place to return, without worry or repercussions. They had also saved him. Given him back the life he had thought he lost, and with a renewed sense of purpose and lust for the ‘arts.’

He had fucked up a bit though. It hadn’t been his fault really. Burning down that extra block had appealed to his aesthetic taste. It would not be right to leave on oddly shaped blacked spot on the city. He had wanted to make it a circle. But the people here didn’t understand that.

Maybe they would understand if Deidara blew up their precious compound.

He could do it too. In his mind he already had a diagram of the buildings layout. It’s weak points and escape routes. It was just a matter of how much dynamite to put in what spots to make this whole place go up in a beautiful display or orange, red and black. To feel the searing heat, and watch the smoke billow out making lazy patterns in a suddenly bright night.

The artist shivered in pleasure at the thought. It would be so gratifying. Especially if he could hear THAT persons screams. The person who usually never made any sound.
A pretty face wrinkled, as blue eyes narrowed in thought. Blonde hair settling in his face as he abruptly stopped his pacing. Would it really be so bad?

…

Yes. He would get a moment of satisfaction and die. Deidara had goals, and he really DID respect the leaders. Well the ones that had saved him anyway, the others could burn in the seventh layer. Plus even if he was ‘grounded’ now, he would get jobs again. Jobs that would satisfy the ache that nothing else could.

Nothing soothed his soul like sound of an explosion, nor the sound of screams and flickering flames. He would be patient and wait out this torment. They were coming to address him in an hour anyway, so he had better clear his head of such notions.

Deidara was sure one of those freaks could read minds.

Laughing to himself the artist skipped back towards his room. Mind now occupied with what new jobs he might be getting, and ways to torment Sasori into showing emotion.


………………………………...


Deidara soared through the air, giddiness making him wiggle on the back of his clay bird. It had been so LONG, since he had been allowed to fly in the night air. So long since he had been given a ‘job’ to do.

And this one was a real dozy.

The assassination of one Uchiha, Sasuke. Just the thought made the blonde want to whoop and scream his elation into the sky. But he refrained, this was a big one. He dare not screw it up. They were finally going to take on one of the celebrities. One of the top class. Deidara had always thought that since Sasuke was the first, he naturally, would be the last. Apparently getting security measures made the big wigs in his department scared. They might actually be worried that this poor idiot would figure them out. The artist cackled at the thought. Abruptly he went still remembering their words of warning. Trying to be a tad more professional he scanned the file he had been given, at his departure of the compound.

Apparently Uchiha had been given a body guard. What kind of body guard was unknown. Their man on the inside was only able to obtain the computer record of the order given. He had also vamped up his- as Deidara like to call it- security bubble. Pouring more chakra into it and adding to it, new defensive and offensive abilities. But the artist wasn’t going to bother the bubble. He was going to enter the polite way. The file had more crap about the Sharingan users abilities and such, but the blondie paid no attention to it. He was certain he could beat some broody, pathetic White King. The fight would be good though, and the thought of all the acreage he would be able to send up in flames, made him shudder.

An evil grin came to an attractive face, as The Uchiha mansion came into view.

Yes, things were definitely going to out with a bang tonight!


****************************************


So a new character… For this fic anyway. The next chapter is proving to be quite intense, with many new characters introduced. It also seems to be getting close to twenty pages long already >.>

NO. BETA. I am hopeless with self editing. So if you see grammatical errors, I’m sorry. I have tried my best.

Enjoy the chapter and please review! I will have the next chapter out in two weeks. Perhaps less if I get motivated… ^^

By the way, does anyone know how I can keep my bolds and italics? Once I copy and paste my chapters onto AFF, I lose them. I am completely baffled on how to fix this. It’s harder to emphasize things without them. Any help on this would be appreciated. :)

Chishio