Midnight Memories

I do not own Naruto nor do I make money from it.



This has a change of POV from Sasuke to Naruto. There are a lot of questions opened up in this one and will be answered later. Enjoy.



Midnight Memories



Chapter Six



October 10, 2000



The blaring alarm barely stirred the curled ball hidden in warm blankets. Washington nights were starting to get cooler; as such, thicker blankets were a necessity. Snow was sure to fall thick and heavy, leading to a nice white winter. This was the dream of every child…until frozen slush and frost bit fingers led to grumpy adults.



Naruto rolled from bed, grumbling as his feet hit the carpeting of his bedroom. Last year he’d begged Itachi for carpeting, complaining about the cold winter floors. Itachi suggested slippers. He’d pouted, returning to his room to blare the grunge music he loved so much. The next week, returning home on the day of his birthday, he found the floor of his room carpeted in plush blue, matching the hints of blue in his walls perfectly. As usual on October 10th, Itachi was nowhere to be found.



His birthday never seemed as joyous as that of others. Well, it wasn’t that it was a bad day; it was just that Itachi seemed to detest it. He often wondered if his guardian despised the day because it was his birthday and therefore despised him. Those thoughts would often lead to depression, causing him to mope for days on end.



Pulling on his clothes for the day, an orange flannel shirt accompanied by brown cargos, he made his way to the kitchen. On any other day, Itachi would be sitting at the counter. He never ate but at least he was there for company. Today, however, he wasn’t there. Not that Naruto expected him to be. Today was October 10th after all.



“Figures.” he grunted, opting for just an apple before braving the slight morning chill. The day would warm up considerably. He’d best enjoy the warm afternoons while he could, for soon, the bone chilling cold would come. Slamming the door in his frustration, he left for school.



Dispassionate eyes watched from the kitchen window as the slouched boy made his way down the long drive. Today was not a day he found joy in. It was the day to mourn the loss of his brother. Over the years, it wasn’t uncommon for him to lose track of him from time to time, but this was different. To the best of his knowledge, Sasuke never ‘slept’.



He felt so weary. Every day ticked with the sound of a clock, bringing him closer to some end he had no power to control. His brother’s consciousness struggled the hardest on this day of the year. It wanted to be free. It wanted Naruto. He could feel the possessiveness radiating from it. It was almost completely animal. He sensed Itachi’s presence, as well as Naruto’s. Unable to rationalize, he did not like his mate being alone with his brother. It forced Itachi to sit with him. As long as he sat there, Sasuke was calmed. Sadly, he knew it wasn’t his presence Sasuke found comfort in, but instead it was the fact Itachi was not with Naruto.



Rubbing his fingers to his throbbing head, he sent a particularly powerful push to Sasuke’s restless mind. He needed sleep. It would be long in coming if he worried about his brother waking to begin a maddened rampage. That shit he pulled in Constantinople had been his one strike.



“Sasuke, why did you love him?” It was a question he asked himself repeatedly throughout the centuries. Why did he do it? Why did he tie his soul to that boy? After so long, he still lacked an answer. What was the point of it all? Even as a nearly eternal being, he’d always been one to believe there was a purpose to everything.



It might sound a bit corny for one such as him to quote scripture, but to everything, there is a season, a time to be born and a time to die; a time to reap and a time to sow. With Naruto, there seemed no purpose. Nothing added up. He was born, then he died. He brought nothing to Sasuke but a small touch of joy followed by only nightmarish pain.



For long moments, he stared to the ceiling. His eternal debate waged war in his mind. What would he do if Sasuke’s mind was completely lost, even in Naruto’s presence? He’d shown signs of breaking on the night of the boy’s birth. When he’d seen him take Naruto in his arms, in a moment of doubt, he’d feared he would slaughter the child. It was wrong to think but in that moment, he’d doubted his brother.



His eyes drifted shut, rest coming on swift wings. He longed for the blankness of sleep, that mental darkness where his thoughts were washed away. To Itachi, the sleep of the nightwalker was blessed relief from the many thoughts of living for so long. Perhaps that was the reason they slept nearly dreamless sleeps. To forget everything for a few brief hours.



The sound of doors slamming caused obsidian eyes to fly open, scanning the room before making his way downstairs. He felt Sasuke stirring. His command to sleep should have pushed him past making any conscious attempts to awake for months if not until next year.



Naruto! Panic seeped in his blood as he flashed to the kitchen. Seeing the one door forbidden to Naruto open, his heart dropped from his chest. Racing down the stairs, he found his ward staring intently at the wall. Beyond that wall lay Sasuke, fighting his sleep with all the power in his body, power that was still considerable despite his weakened state.



“Naruto.” Itachi whispered.



“Can’t you hear him?” The monotonous sound of his voice was surprising.



“Who?”



“I don’t know. I dream about him. It hurts. I don’t know if it’s my pain, or his.”



“I think we need to go upstairs. You shouldn’t be here.” Itachi attempted to keep the panic from his voice but what happened next would haunt him for a long while.



Naruto tilted his head to the side, almost as if listening to a voice. Without any warning, he dropped to the floor screaming. His fingers scratched wildly at the brick wall. It was mere moments before they were bloody. He could feel Sasuke’s wildness. He was breaking free. Grabbing the boy, he flung him away from the wall.



His screams continued to echo through the basement as the boy struggled with more strength than was possible. Pulling him up the stairs, he forced him into the kitchen. Just as quickly as the screams began, they stopped, his body going limp in Itachi’s arms.



Gaping at the limp body, he frowned. It had been nearly a year since anything odd had happened with the boy. The ‘episodes’ were becoming fewer and fewer. This one seemed different somehow. Never had Naruto harmed himself.



Lowering the body to the bed, he lifted each finger to his lips. His tongue swiped along the lacerated skin, healing. He frowned at the taste. Up until this moment, he’d never tasted Naruto’s blood. Not even a drop.



His blood tasted…pure was the only word to come to mind. He remembered Sasuke’s claim of all other blood tasting of ash compared to Naruto. He’d swept the thought aside, blaming it on love talk. A lover’s blood always tasted sweeter. Sex added an extra level to the flavor of blood.



He found his own teeth unconsciously extended. His own demon begged for a deeper taste. Paling considerably, he swiped each digit quickly before exiting the room. His heart pounded as he brought a hand to his lips. Just that small taste revived him as none other had.



His hands shook as he opened the hidden lair. His brother had become surprisingly quiet. He shouldn’t be afraid. It wasn’t fear for himself; he could destroy a thousand of Sasuke’s strength. No, it was fear for what he might have to do. Slumping in the only chair in the room, his eyes drifted towards the upper levels of the house. His thoughts were on Naruto, and his strange reactions tonight.



~*~



Naruto shifted restlessly on the bed. Two pair of silent eyes watched him with concern. “He’s fighting it.”



“Hmm.”



“You aren’t worried?”



The taller frame of the man shrugged as his eyes gazed down at his partner. She was always the more talkative one. He preferred his own thoughts. The first person he met after he ‘awoke‘ was her. From that day on, they had been like family though no blood connected them.



“Things would go much more smoothly if he were allowed to be with him.” she commented.



He grunted. She spoke the truth. The growth of one such as Naruto was being impeded by the seclusion from his other. In the history of their kind, only one other survived separation from the other during the early years.



“Do you think he will survive?” she asked.



“He’s strong. It’s the other I worry about.” he answered.



“I have never seen such a bond formed between two.”



He said nothing. Some things were best left unsaid. It was rare, but not unheard of. He remembered his other. He remembered the bond being rejected in his first incarnation, and in every one afterwards. Perhaps he chose to live in spite of his other rather than die. He was the only one of their kind to have been rejected in every life, including his immortal one.



“He’s kept the same form. It’s an interesting development.” she continued.



“Enough.” He approached the restless boy, his hand extended.



The struggling ceased as his hand stroked the sweating brow. “Calm, don’t fight yourself.”



With a last glance at the sleeping boy, the two figures faded into the darkness. No trace of their existence was left. The room was silent as dreams swirled around Naruto’s mind. His fingers reached out to touch them, no longer afraid of what they would show. They weren’t all bad.



April 18, 1570



“Naruto, hurry your arse up and get that scenery finished.”



Blond hair stuck to a sweaty brow as the young man swung around to stick out his tongue at the retreating back. “Do this, Naruto. Do that, Naruto. Kiss my considerable arse, Naruto.”



“Keep that up and you won’t even have this job, let alone one on stage.”



Naruto smiled at the older man. His name was Jiraiya. He was a playwright for the current band of merry actors otherwise known as the King’s Cross Merrymakers for which Naruto was currently employed as a stagehand. The old actor turned playwright chuckled at the scowling face of his much younger friend.



“You’ll get your chance.”



“That is highly doubtful. I’m already twenty, practically a fossil for the stage.”



“I resent that.”



“Sorry.” he chuckled, his fingers dragging the paint brush across the scenery one last time before moving it onto the stage to dry.



“Hey, boy. Why not leave this life? There’s really no success in it. Actors are a dime a dozen. One day you are on top of the world, the next day it comes crashing down.” Jiraiya pulled his considerable frame from its sitting position on the box, offering a wave before ambling from the theater in search of a quick lay in the nearest whorehouse.



“I’ll think about it, you old pervert.” he yelled, earning an almost bored wave.



Sighing, he slumped against the wall. Whom was he kidding? He would die in this life, most likely alone. From the day he was born, something felt wrong. It was all an act. He wondered if the people who saw him working on sets day after day knew what a great actor he really was. Probably not. If they did, they would see the aching emptiness inside.



Each day was a little harder to climb from bed. The happy go lucky smile plastered on his face was as false as the moans of a cheap whore. His life held little meaning, each day he awoke only to be alone. His work held little to no joy. Even the excitement of the theater was dulled in his eyes.



The mid afternoon sun showed dully through the thick layer of clouds as he stepped from the small theater. The smell of street sewage and smoke was heavy in his nose. He pulled on a woolen coat, worn thin in some places. Dull eyes gazed at the passing horse drawn carts. He wondered how much it would hurt to step in front of one of the fast moving vehicles? To end everything.



His fingers shook as he walked forward. It would be so easy. No one would miss him. Jiraiya might think of him from time to time, maybe even immortalize him as a minor character in one of his many unpublished plays.



Maybe. Maybe he’d lived enough. There really was no reason for his existence. He thought for a moment who he’d want to say goodbye to. There were a few acquaintances in his life but no real friends. Jiraiya was the only one to come close. Thank you for caring, Jiraiya.



Watching the rapid approach of an incoming carriage, he asked for forgiveness. He prayed no one else would be injured as he stepped into the street. Goodbye.



A bone crushing hand wrapped around his arm in an almost painful grasp. He was pulled from certain death by the owner of the most beautiful pair of eyes he’d ever seen. Lost in those eyes, all thoughts of death trickled from him as if they’d never been there.



“You should watch where you are strolling.”



The eyes continued to bore holes into him, analyzing what they saw. While the eyes analyzed him, he took the time to analyze his ‘savior’. Long midnight colored bangs framed a face so pale, the queen herself would be envious. From what he could tale, there was no make-up. The flawless perfection before him was the ideal of every man and woman.



His clothing lacked the thick neck ruff, which was so popular amongst the nobility. He looked elegant all the same. His face carried an almost blank look. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. He wondered how the face would appear in joy or in sadness.



“Who are you?”



“That is of none of your concern. Please do not try that again.” Black eyes blinked slowly before the man turned, leaving Naruto standing there, stunned.



“Wait!” He reached out to grab him only to find air in his hands.



His savoir was gone, lost in the crowd. There wasn’t even a view of his back; it was as if he had vanished into thin air. People passing by seemed unfazed by the look on his face. He was nobody and therefore not worthy of their attention.



Feeling a little depressed at the loss of the other, but no longer suicidal, he turned for home. Perhaps once he reached the small two-room housing, he could sort through his thoughts. He couldn’t get the dark haired man from his mind. The dark pools that were his eyes seemed to stare into his soul, seeing his every thought.



He was so familiar, like an image from a dream. Every time he tried to grasp the thought, it flittered away only to continue to tease him with the knowledge it possessed. Only when he was lying on his bed did he allow the face to overwhelm him. The smooth curve of the jaw, the aristocratic nose, the slight tilt of eyes denoting some foreign ancestry; all these merged together to create a creature of absolute beauty and mystery.



Naruto had never been one to be interested in men or women. He’d lost his virginity to a prostitute hired by Jiraiya on his eighteenth birthday but it had been a forgettable experience. Only the experienced hands of the woman had been able to bring any sort of response from him. Of course, he’d told Jiraiya the experience was amazing and eye opening.



Now, he lay in his bed wondering what it would be like to be with the man he’d seen. The churches always preached on the sin of men laying with other men. He wasn’t foolish not to have seen it. The theater was the ideal place for witnessing such relations. He’d even caught some of his co-workers in the act. They seemed to enjoy it but he’d never had interest enough to try it out himself. Now he had an interest.



Frowning, he drummed his fingers on his abdomen. It wasn’t really the intercourse he wanted. He wanted it but…there was something deeper pulling at him. He wanted to touch the face, to bring joy to it. Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach. He was foolish letting his mind roam with such thoughts of romance. The other man had shown almost no interest in him. He’d probably never see him again. He wasn’t sure why that made his heart throb. He didn’t know him. For all he knew, he could be some noble who murdered children on the weekend.



“He’s not,” he whispered to no one.



He wasn’t sure but he felt deep down that the stranger was a good person. Something was holding him back. He wanted to see the real man behind that mask. He would even be willing to remove his own for the right. Before sleep took him, he wondered what he would do if he saw the stranger again.



~*~



“Naruto! Get those sets lined up properly. I don’t pay you to stand around looking like an idiot,” screamed the director.



Naruto chose to ignore the screaming man. He was used to it. It was nothing new for him to be the whipping boy of anyone who was stressed. It was always Naruto’s fault if an actor forgot their lines or if a prop broke. It was his fault if the torch light didn’t properly show off the features of the leading actors or if the audience was not packed.



In the dirty little theater, he wondered why it mattered. It was a common theater. Nobles never dared enter unless they were ‘slumming it’. From time to time, nobles would rent one of the few box seating. More commonly, they would rent it to fuck their significant other. No nobility ever came in to actually watch the plays. That tonight the box seats were rented had everyone in a tizzy. He didn’t know why it mattered, the poor folk paying a penny to see the raunchy play created by Jiraiya wouldn’t care if an actor flubbed a line of if the scene wasn’t perfect and the nobles came to fuck in secret.



“Naruto, my boy…tonight could be the night. If a noble decides to support my work, I’ll be set for life. My plays will go down in history, perhaps even one day be played for royalty.” Jiraiya dusted off his rather worn brocade vest. His fingers were stained black from hours spent penning his works to paper. The ruff around his neck was yellowed with age, long having lost the color pristine white.



“I wish you the best, Jiraiya.” Naruto sighed, watching him walk onto stage to greet the viewers.



Slumping against the curtains, he scanned the audience. The same raunchy crowd appeared, their dirt covered faces and blackened teeth told their lot in life. The only joy for them came from their standing room only as they watched the writing of Jiraiya come to life on the stage. He supposed that should give meaning to their life, making the lives of the working class a bit more bearable. It didn’t. All he could think about was dark eyes and pale skin.



“Naruto! Get the curtain!” someone hissed, breaking his thoughts.



Blinking away the mental vision, he began pulling at the rope. The threadbare, patched curtains parted to reveal the first scene. The actors began their parts. It was bad. Well, not the lines, just the actors were bad. He almost felt bad for Jiraiya. His plays were actually well written. They had the quality of the Queen’s stage.



Peaking out again at the audience, his eyes flickered up to the balcony boxes. The area was darkened, almost a guarantee that there was tupping going on. Leaning out a bit, he caught a flash of pale, almost ethereal skin. It was so like his.



“Pete, I’m going…somewhere. Take over the curtain for me.” he murmured to one of the stagehands before handing over the rope.



Working his way up the back stairs, he crept along the stained hallway towards the private boxes. Normally, he would hear the moans of a couple taking pleasure from each other. Some of the whores brought by nobility would make better actors than those on stage. That is, if women were allowed to act.



Pushing aside the thick curtain blocking the box, his eyes scanned the interior. There was no heavy smell of perfume mixed with sex. There was nothing. A pale face turned to him, dark eyes flashed sharply before going dead once more.



“It’s you…” Naruto whispered.



“What do you want?” The words rolled across Naruto like a touch. They soothed all his worry. They aroused his mind.



“To thank you.”



“For stopping you from ending your life? I can’t watch such a thing. Disease, murder, accidents, are all things I cannot prevent. You throwing away your existence, I can.” Dark eyes turned dispassionately to the stage once more.



For several minutes, Naruto watched him. His face never smiled at the humorous lines of the play. The audience was going wild while his pale face remained unmoved. He seemed almost emotionless. Why would an emotionless man care if he lived or died?



Eyes the color of the darkest coal turned to face him once more. “Why are you still here?”



“Why do you care?”



“Protecting you is my only reason for existence. I…have done things…never mind…please leave me.” The voice, for an instant, lost its monotonous sound. It quivered before he turned away, his eyes gazing at the play.



“Why are you here?”



“Because you are.”



Naruto gaped at the back of a dark head. He stumbled back against the wall. The thick curtain fell, leaving the other blocked from his view. He was here because of him? What could possibly be so great about him?



“Naruto!” He glanced up to see the director of the theater practically foaming like a mad dog. “How dare you disturb our guest!”



The loud crack of a palm striking skin echoed in the small hall. He crumpled under the blow. Blood dripped from his mouth to fall in crimson speckles on the floor. A foot in his abdomen caused a fresh spatter of blood to spew from his lips. He could have sworn he heard the crack from his ribs.



His vision grew hazy as he watched angry red eyes appear from behind the curtain. He tried to hold onto consciousness as the blows ceased. The black form stepped silently towards the large man over Naruto. His eyes drooped before he fell into unconsciousness.



He floated for a while in darkness. Every time he came close to the surface, the pain sent him back. His entire body cried out in agony. When finally the pain seemed manageable, he opened his eyes. Only candle light permeated the darkness, giving a view of a shadowed room. Voices seemed to come through the walls.



“So this is why you left home? You went looking for him.”



There was a deep silence. Only his own breathing could be heard. He wondered if maybe they left until the strange voice spoke again.



“You will lose him again. Just let him go. I thought you were going to let him go.”



“I can’t.”



“I won’t let you fall again. I will kill you first.”



“Itachi, I…am in control. I won’t let myself feel anything.”



“That’s not what I wanted and you know it. You are a living being. You need to feel.”



“I…can’t. Not with him…every time I love him…he takes a part of me.”



“What is the point of watching him then?”



“Knowing that he is safe gives me comfort.”



“Don’t let him destroy you again. I won’t hesitate.”



“I understand. I won’t get close to him.”



“Sasuke, you are already close. You were close the moment you laid eyes on him again. He’s awake. I’m leaving for Romania. There has been an outbreak of a sweating sickness in the village. My return is necessary.” There was a deep sigh. A rustle of clothing alerted Naruto of the entrance of someone at his bedside.



“You’re awake.”



He nodded, his jaw ached too much to do more than nod. The nobleman nodded, his fingers checking his ribs. Each time he breathed, pain shot through his chest. The fingers released their pressure before moving to his jaw. “Your ribs are broken but your jaw is merely bruised. It will hurt for a few days but should heal fine.”



“Why?” he grated out, risking the pain.



“Why did I stop him? I told you, I would keep you safe from what I could. Rest now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”



Naruto watched the other stand, before moving away from the bed. His back seemed stiff, as if he was forcing himself to leave against his wishes. “Stay.”



Obsidian eyes turned back to him, the surprise on his face evident before he locked down the emotion again. Naruto could see the clenched fist at his side. The man looked…torn. He could see the battle fought within him.



“I can’t…”



“Why?”



The blockade was up once more. All life faded from the eyes. Where moments earlier there was confusion, now there was…nothing. No anger. No laughter. Nothing. His savior’s eyes looked dead. “That is of none of your concern. Rest. I’ll arrange for you to be moved to your home. I’ve arranged with the writer Jiraiya. He is going to run a theater for me. You will work with him. You need not return to that…place.”



“Wait…”



“Good night, Naruto.”



Slumping on the bed, Naruto wondered why he felt like crying. Exhaustion beat at his mind, forcing it into sleep. It was nearly afternoon when he woke. A servant assisted him in dressing before a carriage took him to his small set of rooms on Leek Street. He was surprised to see Jiraiya waiting for him.



“Kid…I have some news for you.”



“I know.”



“You know?”



“Where will we be centralized?”



“What aren’t you telling me, Naruto.”



“Nothing, old man.”



“Fine. Our benefactor has arranged for us to have a theater. The building is newly constructed. It can house more than five hundred people. This is a dream, Naruto. I’ll make you an actor. No more backstage for you.” Jiraiya continued to go on and on.



Naruto stopped listening. His thoughts remained on the man. He’d never even gotten his full name. All he knew was his name was Sasuke. He only knew that because of eavesdropping on the conversation. He was determined to find the man again. He would follow him all over the world if he had to.



The days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Naruto was kept busy. He was a surprising success on the stage. Women loved him. He was always portrayed in the heroic role, making him the envy of all. That was, until tragedy became the new draw. Comedy did fine, but if one really wanted to succeed, they showcased tragedy. The public wanted something to move their souls, as did the Queen. Her Majesty was an avid supporter of the theater.



Naruto understood Jiraiya’s malcontent. Tragedy wasn’t his best area. Naruto had read a few scenes from the story he was working on. It had a lot of potential. It would be Naruto’s first time dying. He wasn’t sure why he found it so humorous.



“Jiraiya, tell me who he is.” Naruto was tired of chasing around dead leads. He wanted the man. He wanted to touch him. To make that deep darkness in him go away.



“You know I can’t, brat. He asked that he not be named. He wants to be left anonymous. If you find out you might tell someone or someone might see you with him. It’s better this way.” Jiraiya took a swallow of ale as he focused on the mess of scribbled lines before him.



Naruto grumbled but left the man in peace. He would have to go looking elsewhere. He’d returned to the house he’d stayed at after his beating. It was vacated, empty as a tomb. It was made obvious to him that ‘Sasuke’ did not want to be found by him. That only incensed him more in his quest to find Sasuke.



He remembered the first day he met him. His death seemed minutes away. He’d wanted it with every fiber in his being, until he’d seen those eyes. Now death was out of the question.



Each day away from him strained his soul. He didn’t want to die but he didn’t want to live without him either. Maybe he was still watching him from the shadows. Maybe he should ‘attempt’ to die again. It was a risky venture but he supposed death was better than living without him.



Taking a deep breath, he exited the building. His thoughts drifted over many things. Some similar to what he thought on that day so many months ago. Who would miss him? He was a recognized name now. Many people would acknowledge his death but who would miss him? Would Sasuke miss him? Why did he bother rescuing him if he didn’t want to be around him?



Each thought made him angrier and angrier. His steps became loud drums, his leather shoes clopping against the dirt in muffled tandem. If Sasuke didn’t want him, then to hell with him. He would decide his fate. Reaching the river, he stared into the swirling darkness. The sun had set, taking all but the faintest light. His hands trembled as he lifted himself onto the bridge. He would end this confusion. Either Sasuke would save him and explain himself, or he would die. A small part of his mind screamed at the irrationality of his thoughts. Sasuke wouldn’t save him, he wasn’t God.



He wasn’t sure why he was so certain Sasuke would show himself. Was he a demon or an angel? Either way, there was something different about him. He was certain that his conviction would produce the other. Taking a deep breath, he released the bridge only to feel arms around him.



“Stop.”



“You’re here.” His words were lost on the wind as strong arms brought him to safety.



“Please, stop.”



“I wanted to see you. I looked and looked. Why did you hide from me?” Naruto buried his face in the warm chest, the scent of sandalwood rose from him. It was so rare for an individual to smell so clean. Most men covered the lack of their washing with the most expensive perfumes. This fresh, clean scent was addicting. He wanted more.



“Stop.” The word seemed less certain, almost afraid.



“No.” Naruto clenched his arms tighter around him, determined not to allow him to disappear again.



“You…I can’t…do you want to destroy every wall I have put up? Do you want to return me to the monster?” Sasuke’s voice cracked, the walls he built already crumbling.



“I don’t know what you mean but I want you with me. I don’t understand this connection to you but I don’t want to let it go. Stay with me, please.” Naruto’s eyes gazed determinedly at the other.



Shaking hands lifted to cup his cheeks. He could feel the small jerks as they tilted his head so dark pools of blackness could stare into his own wide eyes. He felt a thumb stroke along his jaw, a caress so gentle he thought he might cry at the touch. Sasuke seemed almost reverent in his touches, as if he was afraid he would shatter at the slightest touch.



“How am I going to prepare myself?” Sasuke’s voice broke the silence.



“For what?”



“For losing you.”



“I won’t go anywhere.”



The only answer was the burying of a pale face in the skin of his neck. The heated breath seemed to seep into him. The chill of the evening disappeared as lips brushed along his neck. His body jerked at the touch of lips.



Nothing else happened. His lips simply continued to brush his neck, teasing the tiny hairs. Naruto couldn’t stop the moan that escaped at the slight brush of tongue. It was erotic but at the same time, comforting. The answering moan from Sasuke sent pleasure shooting through him.



“I have to go.”



“No! I won’t let you leave me again.”



“I promise to come to you again.”



“When?”



“Your next performance. Jiraiya tells me he will have finished the script by morning.”



“We won’t be ready for weeks.” Naruto frowned, he didn’t like this. He wanted him with him now. Always.



“I will escort you home every night then but please…I must go.” Naruto’s hands clenched in the fine woven shirt before lowering his arms.



“Fine, every night.” Sasuke nodded before turning, his swirling cape disappearing in the darkness.



Reaching up, Naruto touched the skin of his neck. It burned. He wanted something he couldn’t name. He wanted Sasuke’s lips and teeth on him. His body shivered in memory of those soft lips brushing against him.



Wrapping his arms around himself, he made his way home. He’d since upgraded his living quarters to a small townhouse in a bit more respectable neighborhood. The area was a bit worn, although nowhere near the shape of his previous dwelling. That night Naruto’s dreams continued to be haunted by Sasuke, only this time, they took a decidedly more erotic turn.



~*~



The next morning dawned dreary as most mornings this time of year. Naruto went to the theater where the final draft of the play was presented to him. The next few weeks would prove trying indeed. It was good, though. Jiraiya expertly mixed his natural comedy with the drama of tragedy. This play would be sure to be a hit. Perhaps it would even catch the eye of the Queen.



True to his word, that and every night afterwards, Sasuke was waiting as Naruto stepped from the wooden framed building. His dark cloak swirled around him, adding mystery to his aura. Each night, Naruto invited Sasuke inside. Each night he declined. At first, their walks were completed in companionable silence.



Gradually, Naruto began to speak. He was tired of the silence. He wanted to know more about Sasuke. He wanted Sasuke to know more about him.



“You’re not from Britain are you?”



“No.”



“Where are you from?”



“My brother and I reside mostly in Romania.”



“What’s his name?”



“Itachi?”



“Your names are strange.”



“Why are you asking so many questions?” The exasperation in his voice made Naruto smile. He liked the thought of Sasuke not being his normal annoyingly calm self.



“I want to know you.” he grinned before his voice turned serious. He stopped walking, causing Sasuke to turn to him. “What makes you so afraid to feel?”



Sasuke stepped close, his pale hand lifting to stroke the striped cheek. “Myself.”



Naruto frowned as he hand was dropped. “Come, it is getting late.”



“That’s not really an answer. Why do you fear yourself?”



“If you wish to know my past, you need only look into the mirror. Good evening, Naruto.” With a swirl of his cape, he was gone once more.



Naruto fought the urge to stamp his foot in frustration. He felt as if he was getting nowhere. Every step forward resulted in another step back. It was annoying to no end. Sighing, he nodded before bolting his door.



He was too old to pout. That didn’t stop him from wanting to. Sasuke was proving harder to snare than he’d anticipated. He didn’t doubt for a moment his own feelings. They seemed far deeper than anything he’d ever felt. It was strange, he knew so little of him, yet his heart ignored his mind.



“Sasuke.” The name tumbled from his lips. The exotic feel of the word sent shivers coursing through him.



Sleep came easy, his dreams filled with thoughts of Sasuke. Some were of gentle kisses while others left his body aching with all too familiar feelings of unsatisfied need. Knowing he didn’t need to be at the theater until after midday, he curled into the blankets. His attempts to reclaim the dreams were futile. At least Sasuke would be in the theater tonight. Tonight. It was the opening performance of Jiraiya’s new play. The entire troop had been working so hard. It was rumored of the possibility of attendance by some of the Queen’s favorites. Should this show go off without a hitch, they might find themselves performing for Queen Elizabeth soon.



Tonight was also special for another reason. Tonight marked the anniversary of the day he met Sasuke. A year ago today, his life seemed pointless. Such was not the case now. Now he felt booming with life.



Tonight he would tell Sasuke how he felt. Tonight, Sasuke would not escape him again. Tonight’s performance would be for him. It would be as if the only person watching was Sasuke. He knew he would be there. Sasuke was always there, even if he couldn’t see him. He would feel the burn of dark eyes and knew.



His steps were light as he entered the building. It was as if he’d stepped into a mad house. Stage crew ran back and forth at Jiraiya’s command, each attempting to adjust the stage to the playwright’s specifications all the while seeming to fail miserably. Naruto chuckled, drawing the older man’s attention.



“There you are, you ungrateful spawn of a whore.” He growled, turning to face him.



“Why are you so upset, old man?”



“Why? Why? Nobility is coming tonight. The Queen’s favorite, Lord Robert Dudley will be in attendance tonight. Do you realize what this means? Of course you don’t. All you can think about is your lord. Don’t think for an instance that he feels anything for you. You are an easy tup. When it comes time for him to do his duty to his family, you will be forgotten. I told you, an actor’s life is no place for love.” Jiraiya moved away, grumbling under his breath.



‘Sasuke wasn’t like that,’ he wanted to scream. It would fall on deaf ears though. Jiraiya had lived too long in the theater scene to change his opinions. Thought he felt different about it, he wasn’t one to push his own ideas onto others. Let Jiraiya say what he wanted, Sasuke wouldn’t abandon him.



“Hey, Naruto let me show you this.” called one of the stage hands, gesturing for him to join him on the stage.



“You know your big death scene? We had planned to just use a painted dagger but I was working with some props and made this.” He plunged the dagger at Naruto’s chest. The wooden blade disappeared into its hilt. From a distance it would seem to be entering his chest.



“That is amazing. It will look so real.” Naruto sat down, playing with the prop.



For the next few hours, madness ensued. Then, the calm before the storm. Actors were being dressed in their stage finery. Naruto, as the lead actor, received the most attention.



“Naruto?” An elderly woman carried a large arrangement of flowers towards where he was sitting, talking with a few of his fellow actors.



“For me?” She nodded, smiling a toothless grin. “The black roses symbolize death of something, while the Narcissus symbolize rebirth. It is an interesting combination.”



“You don’t know who sent them?” he asked, confused. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the roses weren’t black but a very deep red. They looked less grim now he knew the true color. Sasuke probably sent them to annoy him.



“What a bastard.” he grumbled, tossing the bouquet to one of the stagehands before walking towards the stage.



“Why does he get the lead? Jiraiya, you promised me this lead. I can do it. I arranged an interlude with my sister for you. You promised this part would be mine tonight. Why are you changing our deal?” yelled a voice.



Naruto rounded the corner to see Jiraiya in an argument with Gerald Smith. He was a decent actor. He usually worked as a fill in for actors. He knew every part by heart. It was a rather amazing ability.



“You can have the roll when we don’t have nobility in the audience. This could be our big chance. I don’t want to ruin it.” Jiraiya turned his back on the young man, making last minute adjustments to scenery while the man whirled to see Naruto standing there.



“You think you are on top of the world now. Just wait. It will all come crashing down.” he growled.



A shiver went through him. It was probably nothing. He was simply being paranoid. After the flowers and then Gerald, things were just strange. This feeling did not deter him from his determination. He would tell Sasuke how he felt tonight.



“Listen up!” yelled Jiraiya. “Tonight is very important. I want perfection from all. There are no excuses.”



The troop practically twittered with excitement. The rumor of Lord Dudley’s attendance had reached their ears. Most had dreams of wealth and fame. Naruto only had dreams of Sasuke.



The sound of audience members entering the theater caused all to fall to silence. It was the same before all performances. The actors waited for their cue. All were silent. The silence this night was particularly deafening.



Actors took their places, entering and exiting the stage. The audience laughed at the humor while watching in silence the build of the drama. They knew this play was different. This play would not have the joyous ending of Jiraiya’s comedies. The tension in the air was palatable. The only question in their minds was who would die. What sadness would be portrayed for their enjoyment.



“Are you ready to die, Naruto?” chuckled Benjamin, the antagonist of the play.



“As ready as I’ll ever be. The audience seems rapt. Jiraiya has a masterpiece on his hands.” chuckled Naruto as he drew his sword, charging on stage to rescue the maiden, a teenage boy dressed to appear feminine.



The battle was epic. Ben and he added a bit of flourish to their routine. It wowed the audience, causing gasps of delight. Now it was time for the grand finish, his death in the arms of his beloved. He couldn’t help wishing it was Sasuke’s arms but he found it hard to imagine him in a dress.



Ben grinned devilish, flashing the dagger. Naruto parried the attack of the rapier, stepping into the knife. A gasp ran through the audience. Naruto didn’t hear it. A terrified look passed across Ben’s face as blood bubbled to Naruto’s lips.



The modified dagger had been replaced with a real one. In all the excitement, neither realized it until it was too late. For a moment he stood in shock. His eyes dropped to the weapon protruding from his chest. His prop sword drop from limp fingers as he crumpled to the ground.



“I…I…I didn’t know…” whispered Ben, falling backwards to stare at the other.



Blood began to pool beneath him. It was getting so cold. Suddenly warmth was encircling him as a horrified Sasuke cradled him. For a brief moment he wondered at the stark horror on the other’s face. It was the first honest show of emotion he’d ever seen on the other’s face.



“Sasuke…” he gasped out, finding it harder and harder to draw breath.



“Why did you do it? Why did you make me love you again? You destroyed what I had built.” whispered Sasuke.



A blood stained hand lifted to brush the rapidly paling cheek. The entire cast poured onto the stage, crowding around the fallen actor.



“Sasuke…I…I love…you. I wanted…you to…know.” He blinked his eyes rapidly, Sasuke’s vision becoming haze.



“Stay with me.”



“I…please…” His body began to tremble. He wanted to go to sleep. It didn’t even hurt any longer. Red tears? Why were there red tears on Sasuke’s face?



“Don’t cry.”



“I love you, Naruto. I will always love you. Please, stay with me this time.”



“Hmmm…that sounds…familiar…” Naruto smiled, closing his eyes.



Everything went dark. Sasuke. The only thing he could focus on was Sasuke. It was his guiding light. Even in the darkness, Sasuke was his goal. He remembered things. The past. The present. The future. They all melded together. He needed Sasuke to make him whole…but not yet. He needed…the time wasn’t right.



~*~



October 11, 2000



Naruto opened his eyes to find tears on his cheeks. The light from his window spoke of a new day. A dream? It felt so real, more real than ever before. Sasuke. His heart thudded at the name. Something was building in him. It was as a puzzle was being connected in his mind. Only time would tell when that puzzle was finished. Things seemed clearer today. He felt he should find Sasuke.



He grabbed his notebook. The dream was already fading. He scribbled as fast as he could what he could remember. The only thing that did not fade was Sasuke’s face. The same face hanging in the library. The face in all of his dreams. Sasuke. He would find him. He had to.



To be continued