Never Sleep Again (1/10)
I didn't make the end of the fic-a-thon, but two fics and 2k+ words in two days?
I suppose this wouldn't count since it isn't new, but I wanted to bring it over here anyway. I really don't know what to write right now, so maybe finishing older things will make me a better decider. Wednesday updates, I'm thinking. It's already outlined and everything, and I guess I'll just work on it here until it's done. May just change the summary, too. So contrived it hurts.
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Characters: Sasuke, Hinata, Naruto, Kakashi
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1443
Summary: To Sasuke, the past is something out of reach. For now, there’s Kakashi and Hinata. But with his life unravelling and a reluctant Naruto involved, Sasuke's past is catching up to him, and he finds it even harder to pick up the pieces this time around.
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The day before the first day of school, his mom says he should walk to school with Hinata because they’re neighbours. Itachi pokes him in the forehead and says he should be friends with Hinata because she’s his age. When he complains and says he wants to go back home, his father tells him to listen to his mom and his older brother.
The morning of the second day of school, the girl with the dark hair and pale eyes is waiting for him outside. He makes a face, scrunching his eyebrows together until he receives a gentle push from behind. He sighs and moves past her, telling Hinata to come on, and they make the short walk to school without saying anything to each other.
He can’t do much about being neighbours, but he’s not sure if he wants to be friends with a girl. His friends in Tokyo aren’t girls. He doesn’t plan on having any in Okayama. And he definitely doesn’t want to be friends with a girl who’s too shy to speak and follows him around all the time. His mom only laughs when he tries to explain to her.
But it’s the during the middle of the third day at his new school when Hinata tells him he makes the best bento that he decides he doesn’t mind Hinata as much as he thinks he supposed to.
He smiles at her then, when they’re sitting on the edge of the sandbox during recess. He tells her his mom’s bento is better, but his is still good even though he’s only eight. His mom helps sometimes, his father frowns other times, and his brother smiles, taking pictures of the bento every once in a while because he’s proud.
He offers to show Hinata the pictures one day, and she smiles at him, too, only turning away when two of the other kids on the playground begin to tease them. But he ignores them and continues to tell her how much he likes preparing his own lunch, if only because she’s willing to listen.
When they walk home from school, the sun is beginning to set, and he tells Hinata how the colours remind him of the pretty flowers his mom can make out of oranges, strawberries, and blueberries.
Neither of them says anything the rest of the way, but he doesn’t mind because it’s better than having to walk with someone who’s too loud.
Hinata taps him on the arm when they finally stop in front of his house. He turns to see she isn’t looking at him but at the ground instead. Her face is red, and Sasuke feels embarrassed because he wonders how she can see if she always keeps her head down.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Uchiha-san,” she says politely, and he waves at her awkwardly until she makes her way next door.
He smiles and opens the door to his house, adjusting the straps on his backpack and stepping inside.
“I’m home,” he calls out into the dark hallway, taking off his shoes and placing them next to his mom’s. His father’s shoes aren’t there because he isn’t going to be back until later tonight. But Itachi’s shoes are gone, too, and Itachi is supposed to be at home waiting for him.
Sliding into a small pair of white slippers, he stands on his toes, reaching for the light switch on the wall. He frowns when it doesn’t do anything. Trying again, he flips the switch, but it still doesn’t come on.
“Mom,” he calls out. She doesn’t answer. He wants to think she’s sleeping, but she’s always awake when he comes home. That’s when she’s supposed to ask about his day in school.
He swallows, carefully taking one step forward because he tells himself he’s too old to be scared of the dark. Itachi isn’t scared of things like that, and if he’s going to be more like his older brother, he can’t be scared of the dark, either.
It isn’t completely dark, though, and that kind of makes him feel better. There’s a light coming from the kitchen, a pinkish shadow, like a distorted reflection of the window in the kitchen splashed on the wall.
He drops his backpack on the ground, and it falls to the floor with a thud that almost makes him jump. He freezes, heart beating just a little bit faster as he listens for any kind of sound, but he can only concentrate on how it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. After a few seconds of silence, he calls for his mom again.
She doesn’t answer this time, either.
Sighing and squaring his shoulders, he silently counts to three and takes another step forward, following his only source of light. The hallway isn’t that long, and it’s only a few more steps until he reaches the kitchen.
He shivers when he feels something tickle his ear, warm like someone’s breath. So he won’t turn around, he balls his hands into fists and tells himself there’s nothing there. His head is lowered, eyes squeezed closed, and he tries to will the feeling to go away.
He turns his head sharply at a strange murmur. He almost misses it, but then he hears it a second time. It sounds like someone is calling him, whispering his name. His heart begins to beat even faster, and suddenly, he feels like he can’t breathe.
There’s a pain in his chest, and he tries breathing through his mouth, but the lump in his throat makes it harder to get enough air.
The voice is there again, clearer, and he knows it’s saying his name. He doesn’t recognise the voice, but then it gets louder, saying his name over and over again until it’s the only thing he can hear.
Getting louder and louder and louder and louder-
Shouting, he calls out for his mom and runs into the kitchen, only to fall to the floor when the voice finally stops.
His mouth opens, and he tries to call for her again, but nothing comes out.
Like paint on the walls, it’s splattered on the cabinets, on the table, on refrigerator door and on the curtain in the window. Streaks of red on every surface, and he can’t see anything but his mom lying motionless on the floor in the middle of it.
He’s tense, completely still, and it takes a while for him to move. When he finally does move, it’s only because he’s shaking. Or maybe because he’s crying, even though he knows boys aren’t supposed to cry, but he can’t really tell because his mom, his mom…
A hiccup escapes him as he moves closer to her, knees sliding easily across the floor. He moans, almost slipping on the wet surface, but he doesn’t want to think about what he’s crawling in.
He reaches down to touch her, staring past his trembling hand, and brushes loose strands of hair out of her face. Her eyes are still open but blank. It scares him, how lifeless it makes her look, but he doesn’t want them to close. Not yet.
Slowly, he takes her hand in one of his own, kneading it with his small fingers. She feels cold, so cold, and he knows what it means, but maybe-
He gasps when he feels a sharp pain through his head, causing him to fall over her body. His face is pressed against her chest, and the blood staining her kimono seeps into his skin. The hand around his tightens, and he cries out when he hears the voice again, hears her voice in his head. A shudder passes through him, and he screams, the sound ripped from his throat.
Sasuke!
Louder.
Sasuke!
Louder.
Sasuke!
Louder.
Sasuke!
He’s crying again, struggling to pull away, but she won’t let go. His hand feels like it’s burning, and it’s too much at one time. It hurts too much, hurts all over, and her voice is too loud. He can’t hear himself, but he knows he’s still screaming. Screaming for Itachi, screaming for his father, he doesn’t want to be here anymore.
He only stops when hands grab his arms, moving around his sides and picking him up. That’s when the voice stops, too. His throat hurts too much to scream again, his hand is numb, and he’s too tired to pull away. Resting his head against something soft, he feels a small prick in his neck, and suddenly his eyelids are getting heavy.
It feels like he’s fading away, floating in the dark, and the last thing he sees is a pair of red eyes.