Well. After several days of weather-induced horrible swelling and whatnot, my hands are fit for typing again! (It was pathetic. I couldn't hold onto a glass of water, let alone a pencil/poke keys on the keyboard.) At least, I'm ready for a little typing. It's still raining and I can feel the pain creeping up again. I'll be brief.
Romance novel: is still in the works. I'm naming characters and coming up with witty possible titles.
Fanfic O'Doom: I'm going to edit chapter four very soon. Maybe tomorrow I'll have it done and posted?
And now, for your enjoyment, a rough draft of a poem. I'm going to not look at it for a few days and then come back and edit the crap out of it. ^_^
---
Naming the Dead
one by one
people I've not met
people I've never seen
I frame up the pictures.
A visitor points one out:
"Why do you have Teddy Grindel?"
and I have to look past the glass to know.
"This man is dead." Or so I'm told.
Walking down a snowy street
he looks backward, over his shoulder at
something I can't see.
A dark-haired girl walks beside him.
She's facing the wrong way; her hair cascades down her back.
his lips are parted
stopped
in the middle of a word he never gets to say.
His eyes are arresting.
I am waiting for him to speak.
---
Well? I definitely feel it's unfinished, but it has potential for goodness, I think.
10 May 2009
06 May 2009
Chapter 3
...It takes me longer to edit the chapters than it did to write them in the first place. I worked through dinner; I'd better post this and get something to eat!
As always, enjoy.
Chapter 3
-----------
There were never any realtors in Konoha to begin with, and the classified ads in the paper were laughable. There are too many secrets in a secret village to promote a healthy, truth-based advertising service. Mostly, Kakashi and Sasuke discovered, you either wandered around looking for “for rent” signs, or you knew someone who had a friend who knew someone that had someplace to rent out. Networking. Unfortunately, most of the people who had friends who knew someone did not want to rent it to them. They might have taken Kakashi on his own, but Sasuke, being who he was and having done what he’d done, was blacklisted everywhere.
The other real estate option was to petition the Hokage for some sort of government-run flat, but Kakashi suspected Naruto wasn’t inclined to give Sasuke any more leeway. He hadn’t had Sasuke farmed out to other countries like the rest of the prisoners, but he hadn’t swooped in to rescue him, either. Kakashi wasn’t sure if Naruto had finally cut Sasuke loose, if this was his silent way of standing Sasuke on his own two feet. Naruto could simply be avoiding him and any further emotional damage Sasuke might cause. A Hokage must be firm, fair, and objective. Pent-up releases of emotions erupting in bad judgments and Kyuubi tails were not something the village could afford on any level. Kakashi was better off hunting for a new place without the Hokage’s assistance.
The real estate search went badly from the start. Their prospects grew fewer every day, especially once it got out that they were looking for a place. It also didn’t help that Sasuke was useless at this sort of thing. No. He was worse than useless. When they were lucky enough to go see an apartment--not having been turned down at first contact--Sasuke generally stood in the middle of the living room with a dark look on his face as if he were contemplating which method of destruction to use on the building. Kakashi didn’t know what Sasuke was actually thinking. (Maybe he wasn’t thinking at all.) Perhaps he didn’t like the paint color, or the view, or the fact that it was on the fourth floor. He didn’t know because all Sasuke did was stand there with his arms crossed over his chest. He never actually voiced an opinion.
After a while, Kakashi began asking questions to try and draw Sasuke out, but he also vented his own frustrations with the search. After living in the same apartment for so long, he’d forgotten how hard it was to find a place that would fit all a person’s needs. It got infinitely harder when he had to account for Sasuke as well. Did Sasuke have a deep hatred of carpeting? Would he feel like gouging his valuable eyes out if a bathroom were tiled entirely in baby pink? What about leaky roofs, lack of a balcony? It seemed like he was piling up a lot of trivial concerns, but he was, he reminded himself, trying to get Sasuke to at least not be worse, and if the constant drip of a leak or seeing himself surrounded by pink in the mirror would push him further away from recovery, Kakashi wanted to avoid whatever might cause that decline. He shivered minutely, remembering the Mangekyou’s power. No. Best not to repeat that experience…especially since that was one of the less dangerous things Sasuke could do to a person.
So, as they toured the latest rat hole apartment open to them, Kakashi again tried to get a response from Sasuke. Sometimes he made comments sotto voice, and others were purposely loud as he engaged the landlord.
“What do you think about the five flights of stairs we just did Sasuke?”
“Did you hear that Sasuke? The bathroom is a communal one for the whole floor. Wonderful, don’t you think, bonding with all our new neighbors and attending to our personal hygiene at the same time?”
“I’m almost impressed with that mold colony over there. It’s come almost six feet already on that wall.”
Kakashi scratched his head and craned his neck.
“I’m not an expert, but it looks like it’s headed toward the kitchen.”
“Why yes, that is a lovely view of the dump. Oh? They incinerate at night? Ah, I can just imagine the warm and comforting glow.”
The second bedroom of the two-bedroom apartment was hardly bigger than a closet, and Kakashi made sure Sasuke knew that he, Kakashi, would not be sleeping in it.
“It will be like a nice underground nest, don’t you think? You should be nice and cozy there, just like when…” And Kakashi realized that he was probably going too far. He glanced at the way Sasuke was clenching and unclenching one hand, and Kakashi could almost smell the chakra building up. He made nice, very quickly, with the landlord and got Sasuke out as soon as he could manage via the ever-so-handy poof-away transport jutsu.
Apologising could come later, Kakashi decided. Now that he’d let go of Sasuke, he thought it would be much more prudent to get to a training ground and see if Sasuke would follow him. An attempted pummeling would do them both good, especially since neither of them were going on missions these days. Well, to be accurate, keeping Sasuke within bounds was his mission. Kakashi got hazard pay for it, perhaps the only acknowledgement that it was still Naruto underneath the robes of office. He was still Konoha’s number one surprising ninja, but he played a lot more political tricks than practical jokes these days. Assigning Kakashi to look after Sasuke felt like a bit of both, at times.
Spending so much time dancing attendance on Sasuke left very little for training, let alone enough to escape that sullen presence for a while. It felt, for lack of a better word, nice, jumping from roof to roof with fresh air on his face, leaving Sasuke in the dust for a minute or two. Kakashi did some calculations while running. He decided the best training ground for them was a rather derelict space abutting the forest of death. Kakashi anticipated destruction upon their arrival, and he didn’t want to tear up a nice, frequently used, or, heaven forefend, his favorite, training ground. Really, Kakashi didn’t know why so many other people believed he was a heartless, thoughtless, perverted ninja. He was thinking about the rest of them all the time. Really he was. Being heartless, well…soft-hearted ninja died quickly and messily.
Not that being heartless was any great benefit in the long run. A ninja needed to balance, because becoming emotionless was both damn near impossible and definitively damaging. You turned brittle and broke that way, much like Sasuke. No matter what anyone else said, Kakashi thought deep inside himself that Sasuke might be beyond repair. But then, there was Sai, and surely he’d been tampered with beyond anything Itachi could have ever dreamed. Sai couldn’t even emote with a smile. At least Sasuke felt, even if it was hate and anger.
Kakashi concluded that anger was at the top of Sasuke’s feel-o-meter at the moment, judging by the way he was pushing himself to catch Kakashi. Sasuke might have beaten him to the training ground if he’d bothered to focus that anger. Kakashi dropped to the forest floor and had enough time to read a page of Icha Icha before Sasuke came down too. He shut the book and decided to take charge of the situation.
“I’ve made you upset. It’s only fair to give you a free shot. But after that…” Kakashi shrugged. “I’ll try not to kill you.”
He flexed and waited.
Sasuke stood still. He scrutinized Kakashi, as if he expected him to turn into a log or to disappear in a puff of smoke. Kakashi looked right back. He did not blink.
At length, Sasuke said “I never could tell when you were joking.”
And then he attacked.
-----------
Toodles!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. All rights remain with its original creator, Masashi Kishimoto. I make no profit from writing these stories.
As always, enjoy.
Chapter 3
-----------
There were never any realtors in Konoha to begin with, and the classified ads in the paper were laughable. There are too many secrets in a secret village to promote a healthy, truth-based advertising service. Mostly, Kakashi and Sasuke discovered, you either wandered around looking for “for rent” signs, or you knew someone who had a friend who knew someone that had someplace to rent out. Networking. Unfortunately, most of the people who had friends who knew someone did not want to rent it to them. They might have taken Kakashi on his own, but Sasuke, being who he was and having done what he’d done, was blacklisted everywhere.
The other real estate option was to petition the Hokage for some sort of government-run flat, but Kakashi suspected Naruto wasn’t inclined to give Sasuke any more leeway. He hadn’t had Sasuke farmed out to other countries like the rest of the prisoners, but he hadn’t swooped in to rescue him, either. Kakashi wasn’t sure if Naruto had finally cut Sasuke loose, if this was his silent way of standing Sasuke on his own two feet. Naruto could simply be avoiding him and any further emotional damage Sasuke might cause. A Hokage must be firm, fair, and objective. Pent-up releases of emotions erupting in bad judgments and Kyuubi tails were not something the village could afford on any level. Kakashi was better off hunting for a new place without the Hokage’s assistance.
The real estate search went badly from the start. Their prospects grew fewer every day, especially once it got out that they were looking for a place. It also didn’t help that Sasuke was useless at this sort of thing. No. He was worse than useless. When they were lucky enough to go see an apartment--not having been turned down at first contact--Sasuke generally stood in the middle of the living room with a dark look on his face as if he were contemplating which method of destruction to use on the building. Kakashi didn’t know what Sasuke was actually thinking. (Maybe he wasn’t thinking at all.) Perhaps he didn’t like the paint color, or the view, or the fact that it was on the fourth floor. He didn’t know because all Sasuke did was stand there with his arms crossed over his chest. He never actually voiced an opinion.
After a while, Kakashi began asking questions to try and draw Sasuke out, but he also vented his own frustrations with the search. After living in the same apartment for so long, he’d forgotten how hard it was to find a place that would fit all a person’s needs. It got infinitely harder when he had to account for Sasuke as well. Did Sasuke have a deep hatred of carpeting? Would he feel like gouging his valuable eyes out if a bathroom were tiled entirely in baby pink? What about leaky roofs, lack of a balcony? It seemed like he was piling up a lot of trivial concerns, but he was, he reminded himself, trying to get Sasuke to at least not be worse, and if the constant drip of a leak or seeing himself surrounded by pink in the mirror would push him further away from recovery, Kakashi wanted to avoid whatever might cause that decline. He shivered minutely, remembering the Mangekyou’s power. No. Best not to repeat that experience…especially since that was one of the less dangerous things Sasuke could do to a person.
So, as they toured the latest rat hole apartment open to them, Kakashi again tried to get a response from Sasuke. Sometimes he made comments sotto voice, and others were purposely loud as he engaged the landlord.
“What do you think about the five flights of stairs we just did Sasuke?”
“Did you hear that Sasuke? The bathroom is a communal one for the whole floor. Wonderful, don’t you think, bonding with all our new neighbors and attending to our personal hygiene at the same time?”
“I’m almost impressed with that mold colony over there. It’s come almost six feet already on that wall.”
Kakashi scratched his head and craned his neck.
“I’m not an expert, but it looks like it’s headed toward the kitchen.”
“Why yes, that is a lovely view of the dump. Oh? They incinerate at night? Ah, I can just imagine the warm and comforting glow.”
The second bedroom of the two-bedroom apartment was hardly bigger than a closet, and Kakashi made sure Sasuke knew that he, Kakashi, would not be sleeping in it.
“It will be like a nice underground nest, don’t you think? You should be nice and cozy there, just like when…” And Kakashi realized that he was probably going too far. He glanced at the way Sasuke was clenching and unclenching one hand, and Kakashi could almost smell the chakra building up. He made nice, very quickly, with the landlord and got Sasuke out as soon as he could manage via the ever-so-handy poof-away transport jutsu.
Apologising could come later, Kakashi decided. Now that he’d let go of Sasuke, he thought it would be much more prudent to get to a training ground and see if Sasuke would follow him. An attempted pummeling would do them both good, especially since neither of them were going on missions these days. Well, to be accurate, keeping Sasuke within bounds was his mission. Kakashi got hazard pay for it, perhaps the only acknowledgement that it was still Naruto underneath the robes of office. He was still Konoha’s number one surprising ninja, but he played a lot more political tricks than practical jokes these days. Assigning Kakashi to look after Sasuke felt like a bit of both, at times.
Spending so much time dancing attendance on Sasuke left very little for training, let alone enough to escape that sullen presence for a while. It felt, for lack of a better word, nice, jumping from roof to roof with fresh air on his face, leaving Sasuke in the dust for a minute or two. Kakashi did some calculations while running. He decided the best training ground for them was a rather derelict space abutting the forest of death. Kakashi anticipated destruction upon their arrival, and he didn’t want to tear up a nice, frequently used, or, heaven forefend, his favorite, training ground. Really, Kakashi didn’t know why so many other people believed he was a heartless, thoughtless, perverted ninja. He was thinking about the rest of them all the time. Really he was. Being heartless, well…soft-hearted ninja died quickly and messily.
Not that being heartless was any great benefit in the long run. A ninja needed to balance, because becoming emotionless was both damn near impossible and definitively damaging. You turned brittle and broke that way, much like Sasuke. No matter what anyone else said, Kakashi thought deep inside himself that Sasuke might be beyond repair. But then, there was Sai, and surely he’d been tampered with beyond anything Itachi could have ever dreamed. Sai couldn’t even emote with a smile. At least Sasuke felt, even if it was hate and anger.
Kakashi concluded that anger was at the top of Sasuke’s feel-o-meter at the moment, judging by the way he was pushing himself to catch Kakashi. Sasuke might have beaten him to the training ground if he’d bothered to focus that anger. Kakashi dropped to the forest floor and had enough time to read a page of Icha Icha before Sasuke came down too. He shut the book and decided to take charge of the situation.
“I’ve made you upset. It’s only fair to give you a free shot. But after that…” Kakashi shrugged. “I’ll try not to kill you.”
He flexed and waited.
Sasuke stood still. He scrutinized Kakashi, as if he expected him to turn into a log or to disappear in a puff of smoke. Kakashi looked right back. He did not blink.
At length, Sasuke said “I never could tell when you were joking.”
And then he attacked.
-----------
Toodles!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. All rights remain with its original creator, Masashi Kishimoto. I make no profit from writing these stories.
05 May 2009
Romance time!
I've done it! I've made a complete initial plot for my very first romance novel. (Seriously. It's three solid pages of plot-plot-plot.)
Believe it or not, I've been thinking of writing romance for a while now. Today I ironed out plot details. Now I just need a title... I'm thinking, maybe "Cherish the One" or "To Have and to Hold" or something classically cheesy like that. It's a pirate-ravishment sort of book...except mine will be completely awesome and well-written.
One of the good things about writing romance is that it's perfectly fine to fall into the romance cliches. And! I can overburden the reader with lavish details and quasi-French names. Among the cliches I intend to employ is the "swept-away" woman; the ruthless-but-loving man from her past; and a (botched) "chasing after her true love because she's realized that he's the one, now that he's gone" scene.
Ahh, the success. It smells so sweet and so like possible money-in-the-making. If I make it through and still like it at the end, you can bet I'm going to start submitting it to publishers!
Believe it or not, I've been thinking of writing romance for a while now. Today I ironed out plot details. Now I just need a title... I'm thinking, maybe "Cherish the One" or "To Have and to Hold" or something classically cheesy like that. It's a pirate-ravishment sort of book...except mine will be completely awesome and well-written.
One of the good things about writing romance is that it's perfectly fine to fall into the romance cliches. And! I can overburden the reader with lavish details and quasi-French names. Among the cliches I intend to employ is the "swept-away" woman; the ruthless-but-loving man from her past; and a (botched) "chasing after her true love because she's realized that he's the one, now that he's gone" scene.
Ahh, the success. It smells so sweet and so like possible money-in-the-making. If I make it through and still like it at the end, you can bet I'm going to start submitting it to publishers!
04 May 2009
Chapter Two! (New and improved!)
At long last! The fabled chapter two is here! (In case you've already gotten ahold of chapter two, I'm happy to say that this is a new, edited and altogether snazzier version of what you may have read.) Happy reading!
--Chapter Two--
Sasuke was a dangerous houseguest. He was infinitely twitchy, hair-triggered, and temperamental. He set random traps in the house. Some of them were sensible, like across doorways or windowsills. Setting tripwires across the bathtub not so much. And an exploding tag beneath the kitchen sink, Kakashi decided, was downright low. Getting extra scrubbies from that cupboard should not have been a punishable infraction. Kakashi couldn’t decide whether Sasuke was really so paranoid and unsure as to think that attackers would hide next to the dish soap and bleach, or whether Sasuke just wanted to fuck with him.
Granted, Kakashi fucked right back. Or, at least, he thought about it and had vivid daydreams of putting dye in Sasuke’s toothpaste. He had visions of short-sheeting Sasuke’s bed. Kakashi was halfway through writing a personal ad for Sasuke, but he was constantly revising it in his head and never bothered to actually write it down.
Kakashi’s fuse got shorter by the day and Sasuke wasn’t getting any better. So Kakashi decided the best thing would be to move to a different place. Sharing Kakashi’s little bachelor pad had never been the best of ideas, but it had been a spontaneous sort of decision. Moving wasn’t a question of if or when. It was a question of where. Not too close to the old Uchiha district, or the Hatake house, or the Academy or Naruto’s old place. Or the memorial…the training grounds, the bridge where the team used to meet…anywhere near the ANBU offices or the site of the jail or the monument. Huh. There were so many places that were uncomfortable, so many that might set either one of them off, and Kakashi was under orders to not let Sasuke get worse--and try to make things better, if he at all could.
So one day, over a modest dinner of takeout, Kakashi said:
“We’re moving. Do you want a house or an apartment?” Kakashi was viciously pleased that he’d managed to make Sasuke choke on his food. He was less pleased when he looked up from his plate of greasy noodles into the Mangekyou.
Even in that black-and-white world, Sasuke was conflicted. Kakashi was tied to a post, true, and it wasn’t a very comfortable position, but at least he wasn’t being tortured. Yet. Sasuke just stood...no, loomed, over him, running his limited facial expressions over and over, but mostly switching between an agonized angry look and one of desolate confusion. Sasuke held a sword and it twitched irritably in his hand, as if it couldn’t wait to sink into Kakashi’s otherworldly flesh. Kakashi gritted his teeth and tried to prepare for what he knew could turn ugly and painful very quickly.
The clouds overhead boiled, never repeating the same movements. A small part of Kakashi’s mind compared Sasuke’s inner world with Itachi’s. Sasuke’s was just as parched and flat as his brother’s but it lacked a certain hardness. If Kakashi looked closely at anything, the edges weren’t sharp and clean. Kakashi didn’t know if it was a lack of practice that shaped the world like that, or if the world was so well tuned tyo Sasuke’s conflict with himself. Every now and then, some strange shape would form in the darkness beyond them, and Kakashi was both curious and frightened to find out what moved there, just out of reach and nearly out of sight. It was impossible to judge distance here.
An interminable amount of time later, Sasuke’s face settled into a frown. Not an angry frown. Not a sad frown. Just a frown that swept his dark brows together and pinched his mouth shut in the whiteness of his face. The sword vanished from his hand and the clouds froze in place. The ropes around the post squeezed Kakashi hard. The Mangekyou world melted away.
Of course, undergoing the technique still took it out of a body, even if that body was blissfully phantom-wound free. Kakashi was drenched in sweat and breathing hard. But he seemed to have it better than Sasuke, who twitched into awareness, clutched his head, and passed out in his plate.
“Damn it. He never answered.” Kakashi sighed. He moved Sasuke’s head to the side so he wouldn’t suffocate on the long-cold dinner. Kakashi debated whether or not to finish first or to drag Sasuke to bed. Food won out initially, but he only managed three bites before he made himself get out of the chair, sling one of Sasuke’s arms around his shoulders, and carry him to his futon. Kakashi dropped into his own bed, grateful for the reprieve from the usual tension in the apartment. He didn’t remember falling asleep.
He bolted awake in the darkness. Someone was in his room, standing over his bed with an intense focus on him. He threw three kunai without opening his eye, but wasn’t surprised that they were deflected. A split second after throwing them he’d decided it was probably Sasuke, or perhaps a messenger from the Hokage.
“A house.”
Sasuke left the room and Kakashi took a look at the clock. Four in the morning. Of course Sasuke would wake him up an hour before he’d normally rise. He rolled over again and didn’t move an inch until the alarm went off.
By the time he’d showered and dressed and come out into the kitchen, Sasuke had, apparently, made breakfast for the both of them. His face looked especially pale this morning, though Kakashi couldn’t tell if the pinched look on his face was a side effect of the Mangekyou or from getting up so early. Kakashi guessed that, as soon as the worst of Sasuke’s headache had dissipated, he had stayed up and brooded. Sasuke was like that. But the unusual thoughtfulness of breakfast threw Kakashi a bit. He peered at Sasuke and still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. An apology, maybe?
“It’s not an apology,” said Sasuke. “It’s just...I though maybe we’d get an early start looking for a place.”
“Ah,” said Kakashi. “Well then.”
He scratched his head, scrambling to find a neutral topic of conversation. He settled for burying himself in the food…or at least, appearing to be busy with breakfast so he could continue to attempt to gauge Sasuke’s mood.
Sasuke scowled into his teacup, but carefully avoided looking Kakashi in the face. Yep. It was a peace offering, this breakfast. But it didn’t mean much, coming from someone so volatile. He sighed inside. He’d still have to watch carefully for a couple days. A conciliatory Sasuke was a Sasuke more on edge, looking for any signal that it was alright to stop being apologetic and start being angry again. Life was simpler without Sasuke. The day was already shaping up to be the latest in a never-ending parade of very long, very tiring days. Kakashi sighed and started eating.
----------
Chapter three may make its debut sometime soon...
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. All rights remain with its original creator, Masashi Kishimoto. I make no profit from writing these stories.
--Chapter Two--
Sasuke was a dangerous houseguest. He was infinitely twitchy, hair-triggered, and temperamental. He set random traps in the house. Some of them were sensible, like across doorways or windowsills. Setting tripwires across the bathtub not so much. And an exploding tag beneath the kitchen sink, Kakashi decided, was downright low. Getting extra scrubbies from that cupboard should not have been a punishable infraction. Kakashi couldn’t decide whether Sasuke was really so paranoid and unsure as to think that attackers would hide next to the dish soap and bleach, or whether Sasuke just wanted to fuck with him.
Granted, Kakashi fucked right back. Or, at least, he thought about it and had vivid daydreams of putting dye in Sasuke’s toothpaste. He had visions of short-sheeting Sasuke’s bed. Kakashi was halfway through writing a personal ad for Sasuke, but he was constantly revising it in his head and never bothered to actually write it down.
Kakashi’s fuse got shorter by the day and Sasuke wasn’t getting any better. So Kakashi decided the best thing would be to move to a different place. Sharing Kakashi’s little bachelor pad had never been the best of ideas, but it had been a spontaneous sort of decision. Moving wasn’t a question of if or when. It was a question of where. Not too close to the old Uchiha district, or the Hatake house, or the Academy or Naruto’s old place. Or the memorial…the training grounds, the bridge where the team used to meet…anywhere near the ANBU offices or the site of the jail or the monument. Huh. There were so many places that were uncomfortable, so many that might set either one of them off, and Kakashi was under orders to not let Sasuke get worse--and try to make things better, if he at all could.
So one day, over a modest dinner of takeout, Kakashi said:
“We’re moving. Do you want a house or an apartment?” Kakashi was viciously pleased that he’d managed to make Sasuke choke on his food. He was less pleased when he looked up from his plate of greasy noodles into the Mangekyou.
Even in that black-and-white world, Sasuke was conflicted. Kakashi was tied to a post, true, and it wasn’t a very comfortable position, but at least he wasn’t being tortured. Yet. Sasuke just stood...no, loomed, over him, running his limited facial expressions over and over, but mostly switching between an agonized angry look and one of desolate confusion. Sasuke held a sword and it twitched irritably in his hand, as if it couldn’t wait to sink into Kakashi’s otherworldly flesh. Kakashi gritted his teeth and tried to prepare for what he knew could turn ugly and painful very quickly.
The clouds overhead boiled, never repeating the same movements. A small part of Kakashi’s mind compared Sasuke’s inner world with Itachi’s. Sasuke’s was just as parched and flat as his brother’s but it lacked a certain hardness. If Kakashi looked closely at anything, the edges weren’t sharp and clean. Kakashi didn’t know if it was a lack of practice that shaped the world like that, or if the world was so well tuned tyo Sasuke’s conflict with himself. Every now and then, some strange shape would form in the darkness beyond them, and Kakashi was both curious and frightened to find out what moved there, just out of reach and nearly out of sight. It was impossible to judge distance here.
An interminable amount of time later, Sasuke’s face settled into a frown. Not an angry frown. Not a sad frown. Just a frown that swept his dark brows together and pinched his mouth shut in the whiteness of his face. The sword vanished from his hand and the clouds froze in place. The ropes around the post squeezed Kakashi hard. The Mangekyou world melted away.
Of course, undergoing the technique still took it out of a body, even if that body was blissfully phantom-wound free. Kakashi was drenched in sweat and breathing hard. But he seemed to have it better than Sasuke, who twitched into awareness, clutched his head, and passed out in his plate.
“Damn it. He never answered.” Kakashi sighed. He moved Sasuke’s head to the side so he wouldn’t suffocate on the long-cold dinner. Kakashi debated whether or not to finish first or to drag Sasuke to bed. Food won out initially, but he only managed three bites before he made himself get out of the chair, sling one of Sasuke’s arms around his shoulders, and carry him to his futon. Kakashi dropped into his own bed, grateful for the reprieve from the usual tension in the apartment. He didn’t remember falling asleep.
He bolted awake in the darkness. Someone was in his room, standing over his bed with an intense focus on him. He threw three kunai without opening his eye, but wasn’t surprised that they were deflected. A split second after throwing them he’d decided it was probably Sasuke, or perhaps a messenger from the Hokage.
“A house.”
Sasuke left the room and Kakashi took a look at the clock. Four in the morning. Of course Sasuke would wake him up an hour before he’d normally rise. He rolled over again and didn’t move an inch until the alarm went off.
By the time he’d showered and dressed and come out into the kitchen, Sasuke had, apparently, made breakfast for the both of them. His face looked especially pale this morning, though Kakashi couldn’t tell if the pinched look on his face was a side effect of the Mangekyou or from getting up so early. Kakashi guessed that, as soon as the worst of Sasuke’s headache had dissipated, he had stayed up and brooded. Sasuke was like that. But the unusual thoughtfulness of breakfast threw Kakashi a bit. He peered at Sasuke and still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. An apology, maybe?
“It’s not an apology,” said Sasuke. “It’s just...I though maybe we’d get an early start looking for a place.”
“Ah,” said Kakashi. “Well then.”
He scratched his head, scrambling to find a neutral topic of conversation. He settled for burying himself in the food…or at least, appearing to be busy with breakfast so he could continue to attempt to gauge Sasuke’s mood.
Sasuke scowled into his teacup, but carefully avoided looking Kakashi in the face. Yep. It was a peace offering, this breakfast. But it didn’t mean much, coming from someone so volatile. He sighed inside. He’d still have to watch carefully for a couple days. A conciliatory Sasuke was a Sasuke more on edge, looking for any signal that it was alright to stop being apologetic and start being angry again. Life was simpler without Sasuke. The day was already shaping up to be the latest in a never-ending parade of very long, very tiring days. Kakashi sighed and started eating.
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Chapter three may make its debut sometime soon...
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. All rights remain with its original creator, Masashi Kishimoto. I make no profit from writing these stories.
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