THE SHAAAAAME (but give me love anyway?)
Over a good half of this fic was written...2-3 yrs ago. I am too lazy to beta...so excuse (or don't!) the mistakes. Comments are always love :) Even as I go bury my head in shame...
Title: Another Morning
Author: Hana J.
Pairing: Itachi/Sasuke and Naruto/Sasuke and possible hinty Madara/Sasuke if you wanna squint.
Rating: XXX. OR SOMETHING FOR INAPPROPRIATE SITUATIONS. don't read if you aren't legal/mature enough etc. (see profile, yes? i am not being held responsible if you or your parents are too stupid to pay attention to yer internet timez.)
Summary: uhhhhh...shall I just take what someone described to me? Konoha and the Uchihas...if the Kyuubi hadn't attacked. PLUS ADDED PERVERSION.
Okay, seriously now. Fuck...I can't be serious. My brain just LOLS TOO MUCH OVER ME WRITING FIC AGAIN. SORRY GUYS&GALS.
Sasuke crouched over Naruto in disbelief. Dripping wet clothes stuck to his body, wings shriveling up like dried grapes and folding back into his shoulder blades as the curse seal retreated. He could hear, now, the patpatpat as feet thundered toward him. Rain washed the blood off his hands.
“Sasuke-“ Kakashi, late as usual.
Calloused, gloved hands pried him off of Naruto, shoved him to the side, and cradled Naruto instead. Sasuke clenched his hands in the grass and mud, spitting blood from his mouth, a cracked tooth falling into the bank.
“Come on, we need to get you both to the hospital.” Sasuke could see both of Kakashi’s eyes now: red and black. Following, Sasuke stared at the scar tissue puckering Kakashi’s face, rather than at the boy-friend, enemy-in his grasp. He stumbled along, Kakashi’s large hand steadying him as they made their way back to Konoha.
Sasuke woke in the hospital, his mother at his bedside. “What were you thinking?” she asked, close to tears. Sasuke saw them glisten in her eyes before they were blinked back, like happier moments disappearing beneath the press of years.
He looked away first, but her hand clamped around his and he had no strength to move. Itachi was not there; Sasuke felt relief.
“Sasuke, honey, talk to me. They won’t-they won’t pull up charges because,” she coughed. “But the Hokage insists on more counseling.”
Sasuke said nothing; she would wear herself out eventually. There were only so many times she could repeat the same questions, the same concerns. “I’m fine, mama.”
This time, Mikoto did not answer. Last time, she had said “of course you are, honey,” but this time she did not agree. They both knew he wasn’t fine.
Naruto healed before him and came to gloat at his bedside. The smile he wore looked frayed, strained, and before Naruto left the smile had degenerated into a scowl accompanied by shouts. Sasuke felt better, after that. Naruto shouldn’t be serious, not about him.
Sasuke hadn’t meant to kill him. He hadn’t meant to-
“You wanted to kill him.” The garden snake sat next to him, curled up in a patch of grass. The lake spread out before them, glistening in the hot, morning sun. Sasuke stuck his kunai into the ground, pulling it out and sticking it back in-over and over and over again.
“Just the wrong person.”
“Shut up,” Sasuke said, throat tickling as the hiss trickled from his mouth like spit.
“Don’t worry, Sasuke-kun, next time you’ll kill the right person.”
Digging his nails into the tattoo near his neck, Sasuke sneered at the snake. The little green head bobbed. Sasuke speared it with his kunai, cutting head from body. Black, writhing spider-legs of chakra retreated from his skin.
That night, sweaty and sticky beneath thin sheets, Sasuke got up to get a drink of water. He didn’t go to the kitchen though, but stood in front of his brother’s door. “Come in, little brother,” Itachi said.
Sasuke opened the door a crack, peeking in. Itachi turned over to look at him, his long, dark hair framing his face and falling passed his shoulders. “Come in or leave.”
Stepping inside, Sasuke shut Itachi’s door with practiced ease. The hinges were oiled regularly, so no squeak issued forth. Not even his parents could detect his late night ventures anymore, as they had when he was eight.
“You look better.”
Indeed, he did. The bruise on his face where Naruto had punched him repeatedly was fading into an urine yellow. “Feel better,” he mumbled, sitting when Itachi scooted over to give him room.
Itachi no longer bothered to ask whether he’d had a nightmare or, to be more precise, night terror. They’d persisted even into his teens, a most unusual case, he’d been told. Unusual or not, it gave his mom enough reason to keep sending him to counseling session for his temperament. Anger problems, they’d said.
Sasuke never regretted attempting to kill Shisui and didn’t think of it as an emotional imbalance. Others, however, didn’t see it from his perspective.
“Train me tomorrow?” Sasuke asked, turning to look at Itachi’s pale face, deepened with shadows from moonlight.
A finger pressed into his forehead, the blunt nail scraping his skin. It was the only answer Itachi ever gave. “Tomorrow.”
Sasuke got up and left, closing the door behind him. Itachi always lied. Liars needed to be punished. Black bloomed from his shoulder in smoky wisps. Kakashi’s counter-seal never held for long. He fell asleep dreaming of snakes. The glass of water went forgotten.
With his father’s acknowledgement came Itachi’s disinterest. Before his father had ever praised him and began to instruct him in jutsu at the age of eight, Itachi had always been willing to stick up for him, listen to his chatter, and take walks with him. On the rare occasion, Itachi took him with him when he trained. Now, Sasuke had to seek out Itachi just to get a few words from his brother.
Itachi still slept in the room next to Sasuke’s, though he never seemed to be home. Sasuke rarely saw him between studying under Kakashi and having to sit through his father’s lectures.
It didn’t mean Itachi disappeared completely from his life. Itachi had seared himself into Sasuke’s life in a way that couldn’t be forgotten. Sasuke never forgot and every day he hated Itachi just a little bit more.
Enough to kill him.
Enough to kill, the snake had whispered.
Naruto stood on the bridge, bandage around his chest, even though the scar itself was fading. Sasuke could tell by the way Naruto held himself, slouched like normal, that the idiot no longer felt any pain from the injuries Sasuke dealt him.
“Hey bastard, you’re late!”
“Kakashi isn’t here yet,” Sasuke said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn’t want to see Naruto. He didn’t want to be on Team Seven. Itachi had left early that morning, Sasuke saw him from his bedroom window walking towards the rising sun to meet with a man whose name Sasuke kept secret from his family - Itachi included - and Konoha.
“Sasuke-kun, good morning!”
Grunting, Sasuke nodded at her. It’d been hard to be around Sakura before the Chuunin Exams, but now she seemed different. It wasn’t just because her hair was shorter, either. She wasn’t as annoying, somehow.
Still, she smiled when he’d barely said a word. He ducked his head, looking away and avoiding her seeking eyes.
“Oi, try getting some manners, asshole. Sakura-chan said good morning.”
“I heard her.”
“Yeah, Naruto!” Sakura slammed her fist against Naruto’s head. He yelped in pain. “Don’t bug Sasuke-kun. If anyone needs manners, it’s you!” She rubbed her fist into his head, the move seemed more affection than normal. Perhaps it was the smile twitching at the edges of her mouth. It reminded him of Itachi. He clenched his fists and ignored them both.
Kakashi appeared in a puff of smoke. “Well…seems like everyone’s here.”
“And you’re late!” both Naruto and Sakura yelled.
Shrugging in answer, Kakashi began to spout off another outrageous excuse. Sasuke tuned him out. The day passed in the same calm manner every other day did when there wasn’t a mission. Even though only days before he’d been in a hospital, Naruto had been close to death, and Sakura’s worry for both kept her strained at either bedside, nothing seemed to have changed. Except, except…one thing.
A secret Sasuke kept all to himself.
“It’s been two years,” Sasuke complained in a bored tone that mimicked Kakashi’s tutelage. He saw Tsunade narrow her eyes in annoyance.
“Two years,” he continued, “and I haven’t had anymore outbursts to warrant this continued counseling.”
“Which is exactly why I agreed to your ongoing treatment, Uchiha Sasuke.”
Sasuke held in a sigh. They’d been through this argument before; it was becoming both redundant and pointless. “You trust me enough for top-secret missions, for inclusion into the Anbu, and you still don’t trust me enough to manage my own emotions.”
“One time can be forgiven, twice is pushing my tolerance.” Tsunade leaned back in her chair, groaning. “You tried to kill, in two separate incidents, Konoha shinobi with little to no provocation. I don’t get what is so hard to understand about it, brat. I’m not canceling your counseling and that is that. Ask me again in year so we can make this a tradition.”
Biting his tongue on an angry retort, Sasuke nodded tightly and asked to be excused. Tsunade granted him that with a lazy wave of her hand. “See you next week, Uchiha.”
He bowed and made a hasty exit, ignoring the guards stationed outside and the few shinobi milling about near the entrance. He was used to their curious glances, no doubt wondering why Uchiha Sasuke came every week. Though, they had all probably stopped wondering about it three years ago.
His mother was waiting for him at the exit and he joined her, both walking home in silence. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, but when the quiet between them became too much she began to talk of dinner and Itachi and Father and everything else except the reason for Sasuke’s weekly visits.
“We’ll be having your favorite tonight, Sasuke. And I made a small salad with tomatoes and mozzarella.” Sasuke hated tomatoes. He’d started hating them after his Mother began to make them once a week, the day always coinciding with his counseling.
“It sounds good,” he managed in a soft undertone and watched as a slow smile spread across his Mother’s face. It reminded him of the way she smiled at Itachi: strained.
Itachi came home in time for dinner. Sasuke felt a swill of disappointment turn the food sour in his mouth as Itachi joined them. His Father’s words melted into the background in Itachi’s presence. Even now, no longer eight or twelve or thirteen, but fifteen going on sixteen, Sasuke still felt enamored. He hated it. “I’m finished.”
“But you’ve not cleared your plate, Sasuke,” his Mother protested.
“I’m finished,” he said in a firmer voice, anger sparking like a rock against his Mother’s words. Itachi never had to finish his meals if he wanted to leave the table. But as the youngest son, Sasuke had different expectations placed on him.
Mikoto’s lips thinned in displeasure and Sasuke saw her glance in his Father’s direction. “What did we tell you about raising your voice?”
He clenched his hands in his lap. Why was she arguing about this now? “Not to.”
Sasuke didn’t want to look up from the table, no doubt seeing his brother’s eyes taking in the interactions as if it was a great play. His brother never knew the reasons behind his counseling, no one did except his parents, Kakashi (but only concerning Naruto), and a few select Anbu witnesses, along with the Hokage and his personal counselor. It was kept quiet for many reasons that Sasuke wasn’t supposed to know of-but his knowledge of it didn’t come from those residing within Konoha but by a more powerful man who knew the real reasons the Hokage had been so insistent on his therapy and his parents so compliant. His Mother’s voice broke him from his angry musings. “You’re excused, honey.”
Exhaling a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Sasuke stood up and left the table.
Night found Sasuke standing in front of Itachi’s bedroom door, hands clenched into fists. He didn’t want to go in, he didn’t want to see his brother and yet-he did. How had he become so pathetic?
Sasuke opened the door and shut it silently behind him. Some secrets, when said out loud, turned into lies. No one believed Uchiha Sasuke.
No one except Uchiha Madara.
Title: Another Morning
Author: Hana J.
Pairing: Itachi/Sasuke and Naruto/Sasuke and possible hinty Madara/Sasuke if you wanna squint.
Rating: XXX. OR SOMETHING FOR INAPPROPRIATE SITUATIONS. don't read if you aren't legal/mature enough etc. (see profile, yes? i am not being held responsible if you or your parents are too stupid to pay attention to yer internet timez.)
Summary: uhhhhh...shall I just take what someone described to me? Konoha and the Uchihas...if the Kyuubi hadn't attacked. PLUS ADDED PERVERSION.
Okay, seriously now. Fuck...I can't be serious. My brain just LOLS TOO MUCH OVER ME WRITING FIC AGAIN. SORRY GUYS&GALS.
Sasuke crouched over Naruto in disbelief. Dripping wet clothes stuck to his body, wings shriveling up like dried grapes and folding back into his shoulder blades as the curse seal retreated. He could hear, now, the patpatpat as feet thundered toward him. Rain washed the blood off his hands.
“Sasuke-“ Kakashi, late as usual.
Calloused, gloved hands pried him off of Naruto, shoved him to the side, and cradled Naruto instead. Sasuke clenched his hands in the grass and mud, spitting blood from his mouth, a cracked tooth falling into the bank.
“Come on, we need to get you both to the hospital.” Sasuke could see both of Kakashi’s eyes now: red and black. Following, Sasuke stared at the scar tissue puckering Kakashi’s face, rather than at the boy-friend, enemy-in his grasp. He stumbled along, Kakashi’s large hand steadying him as they made their way back to Konoha.
Sasuke woke in the hospital, his mother at his bedside. “What were you thinking?” she asked, close to tears. Sasuke saw them glisten in her eyes before they were blinked back, like happier moments disappearing beneath the press of years.
He looked away first, but her hand clamped around his and he had no strength to move. Itachi was not there; Sasuke felt relief.
“Sasuke, honey, talk to me. They won’t-they won’t pull up charges because,” she coughed. “But the Hokage insists on more counseling.”
Sasuke said nothing; she would wear herself out eventually. There were only so many times she could repeat the same questions, the same concerns. “I’m fine, mama.”
This time, Mikoto did not answer. Last time, she had said “of course you are, honey,” but this time she did not agree. They both knew he wasn’t fine.
Naruto healed before him and came to gloat at his bedside. The smile he wore looked frayed, strained, and before Naruto left the smile had degenerated into a scowl accompanied by shouts. Sasuke felt better, after that. Naruto shouldn’t be serious, not about him.
Sasuke hadn’t meant to kill him. He hadn’t meant to-
“You wanted to kill him.” The garden snake sat next to him, curled up in a patch of grass. The lake spread out before them, glistening in the hot, morning sun. Sasuke stuck his kunai into the ground, pulling it out and sticking it back in-over and over and over again.
“Just the wrong person.”
“Shut up,” Sasuke said, throat tickling as the hiss trickled from his mouth like spit.
“Don’t worry, Sasuke-kun, next time you’ll kill the right person.”
Digging his nails into the tattoo near his neck, Sasuke sneered at the snake. The little green head bobbed. Sasuke speared it with his kunai, cutting head from body. Black, writhing spider-legs of chakra retreated from his skin.
That night, sweaty and sticky beneath thin sheets, Sasuke got up to get a drink of water. He didn’t go to the kitchen though, but stood in front of his brother’s door. “Come in, little brother,” Itachi said.
Sasuke opened the door a crack, peeking in. Itachi turned over to look at him, his long, dark hair framing his face and falling passed his shoulders. “Come in or leave.”
Stepping inside, Sasuke shut Itachi’s door with practiced ease. The hinges were oiled regularly, so no squeak issued forth. Not even his parents could detect his late night ventures anymore, as they had when he was eight.
“You look better.”
Indeed, he did. The bruise on his face where Naruto had punched him repeatedly was fading into an urine yellow. “Feel better,” he mumbled, sitting when Itachi scooted over to give him room.
Itachi no longer bothered to ask whether he’d had a nightmare or, to be more precise, night terror. They’d persisted even into his teens, a most unusual case, he’d been told. Unusual or not, it gave his mom enough reason to keep sending him to counseling session for his temperament. Anger problems, they’d said.
Sasuke never regretted attempting to kill Shisui and didn’t think of it as an emotional imbalance. Others, however, didn’t see it from his perspective.
“Train me tomorrow?” Sasuke asked, turning to look at Itachi’s pale face, deepened with shadows from moonlight.
A finger pressed into his forehead, the blunt nail scraping his skin. It was the only answer Itachi ever gave. “Tomorrow.”
Sasuke got up and left, closing the door behind him. Itachi always lied. Liars needed to be punished. Black bloomed from his shoulder in smoky wisps. Kakashi’s counter-seal never held for long. He fell asleep dreaming of snakes. The glass of water went forgotten.
With his father’s acknowledgement came Itachi’s disinterest. Before his father had ever praised him and began to instruct him in jutsu at the age of eight, Itachi had always been willing to stick up for him, listen to his chatter, and take walks with him. On the rare occasion, Itachi took him with him when he trained. Now, Sasuke had to seek out Itachi just to get a few words from his brother.
Itachi still slept in the room next to Sasuke’s, though he never seemed to be home. Sasuke rarely saw him between studying under Kakashi and having to sit through his father’s lectures.
It didn’t mean Itachi disappeared completely from his life. Itachi had seared himself into Sasuke’s life in a way that couldn’t be forgotten. Sasuke never forgot and every day he hated Itachi just a little bit more.
Enough to kill him.
Enough to kill, the snake had whispered.
Naruto stood on the bridge, bandage around his chest, even though the scar itself was fading. Sasuke could tell by the way Naruto held himself, slouched like normal, that the idiot no longer felt any pain from the injuries Sasuke dealt him.
“Hey bastard, you’re late!”
“Kakashi isn’t here yet,” Sasuke said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn’t want to see Naruto. He didn’t want to be on Team Seven. Itachi had left early that morning, Sasuke saw him from his bedroom window walking towards the rising sun to meet with a man whose name Sasuke kept secret from his family - Itachi included - and Konoha.
“Sasuke-kun, good morning!”
Grunting, Sasuke nodded at her. It’d been hard to be around Sakura before the Chuunin Exams, but now she seemed different. It wasn’t just because her hair was shorter, either. She wasn’t as annoying, somehow.
Still, she smiled when he’d barely said a word. He ducked his head, looking away and avoiding her seeking eyes.
“Oi, try getting some manners, asshole. Sakura-chan said good morning.”
“I heard her.”
“Yeah, Naruto!” Sakura slammed her fist against Naruto’s head. He yelped in pain. “Don’t bug Sasuke-kun. If anyone needs manners, it’s you!” She rubbed her fist into his head, the move seemed more affection than normal. Perhaps it was the smile twitching at the edges of her mouth. It reminded him of Itachi. He clenched his fists and ignored them both.
Kakashi appeared in a puff of smoke. “Well…seems like everyone’s here.”
“And you’re late!” both Naruto and Sakura yelled.
Shrugging in answer, Kakashi began to spout off another outrageous excuse. Sasuke tuned him out. The day passed in the same calm manner every other day did when there wasn’t a mission. Even though only days before he’d been in a hospital, Naruto had been close to death, and Sakura’s worry for both kept her strained at either bedside, nothing seemed to have changed. Except, except…one thing.
A secret Sasuke kept all to himself.
“It’s been two years,” Sasuke complained in a bored tone that mimicked Kakashi’s tutelage. He saw Tsunade narrow her eyes in annoyance.
“Two years,” he continued, “and I haven’t had anymore outbursts to warrant this continued counseling.”
“Which is exactly why I agreed to your ongoing treatment, Uchiha Sasuke.”
Sasuke held in a sigh. They’d been through this argument before; it was becoming both redundant and pointless. “You trust me enough for top-secret missions, for inclusion into the Anbu, and you still don’t trust me enough to manage my own emotions.”
“One time can be forgiven, twice is pushing my tolerance.” Tsunade leaned back in her chair, groaning. “You tried to kill, in two separate incidents, Konoha shinobi with little to no provocation. I don’t get what is so hard to understand about it, brat. I’m not canceling your counseling and that is that. Ask me again in year so we can make this a tradition.”
Biting his tongue on an angry retort, Sasuke nodded tightly and asked to be excused. Tsunade granted him that with a lazy wave of her hand. “See you next week, Uchiha.”
He bowed and made a hasty exit, ignoring the guards stationed outside and the few shinobi milling about near the entrance. He was used to their curious glances, no doubt wondering why Uchiha Sasuke came every week. Though, they had all probably stopped wondering about it three years ago.
His mother was waiting for him at the exit and he joined her, both walking home in silence. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, but when the quiet between them became too much she began to talk of dinner and Itachi and Father and everything else except the reason for Sasuke’s weekly visits.
“We’ll be having your favorite tonight, Sasuke. And I made a small salad with tomatoes and mozzarella.” Sasuke hated tomatoes. He’d started hating them after his Mother began to make them once a week, the day always coinciding with his counseling.
“It sounds good,” he managed in a soft undertone and watched as a slow smile spread across his Mother’s face. It reminded him of the way she smiled at Itachi: strained.
Itachi came home in time for dinner. Sasuke felt a swill of disappointment turn the food sour in his mouth as Itachi joined them. His Father’s words melted into the background in Itachi’s presence. Even now, no longer eight or twelve or thirteen, but fifteen going on sixteen, Sasuke still felt enamored. He hated it. “I’m finished.”
“But you’ve not cleared your plate, Sasuke,” his Mother protested.
“I’m finished,” he said in a firmer voice, anger sparking like a rock against his Mother’s words. Itachi never had to finish his meals if he wanted to leave the table. But as the youngest son, Sasuke had different expectations placed on him.
Mikoto’s lips thinned in displeasure and Sasuke saw her glance in his Father’s direction. “What did we tell you about raising your voice?”
He clenched his hands in his lap. Why was she arguing about this now? “Not to.”
Sasuke didn’t want to look up from the table, no doubt seeing his brother’s eyes taking in the interactions as if it was a great play. His brother never knew the reasons behind his counseling, no one did except his parents, Kakashi (but only concerning Naruto), and a few select Anbu witnesses, along with the Hokage and his personal counselor. It was kept quiet for many reasons that Sasuke wasn’t supposed to know of-but his knowledge of it didn’t come from those residing within Konoha but by a more powerful man who knew the real reasons the Hokage had been so insistent on his therapy and his parents so compliant. His Mother’s voice broke him from his angry musings. “You’re excused, honey.”
Exhaling a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Sasuke stood up and left the table.
Night found Sasuke standing in front of Itachi’s bedroom door, hands clenched into fists. He didn’t want to go in, he didn’t want to see his brother and yet-he did. How had he become so pathetic?
Sasuke opened the door and shut it silently behind him. Some secrets, when said out loud, turned into lies. No one believed Uchiha Sasuke.
No one except Uchiha Madara.