Naruto :: Every Ghost :: G :: no pairings
Title: Every Ghost
Fandom: Naruto
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word count: 187
Spoilers: None
Summary: It's a thought Sasuke can do without. A very subtle Mother's Day-inspired drabble; see if you catch it.
"If you could spend five minutes with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?"
It's a stupid question, like most of the chatter and gossip that float around the tavern. Even stupider are most of the answers: one man names some supermodel, another mentions someone owing him money. A particularly drunken voice admits his deceased uncle.
It's a stupid question, but unlike most of the chatter and gossip, it catches Sasuke's attention. It's not so much food for thought as it is a brief prickle of discomfort, an irritating brush on the back of his neck. His eyes fall once to the side before picking up again and turning to the bottom of his empty glass, the rest of him unmoved as though made of the same material.
The conversation fades and dies and changes, lost in the murmuring atmosphere, but his distracted and unwanted feeling stays. Another few minutes pass before Sasuke finally resists the call and stands, settling for the shadow of a buzz and an unsatisfied aftertaste as he slips unnoticed from the dark bar.
Outside, the night is comfortably cool for June.
Fandom: Naruto
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word count: 187
Spoilers: None
Summary: It's a thought Sasuke can do without. A very subtle Mother's Day-inspired drabble; see if you catch it.
"If you could spend five minutes with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?"
It's a stupid question, like most of the chatter and gossip that float around the tavern. Even stupider are most of the answers: one man names some supermodel, another mentions someone owing him money. A particularly drunken voice admits his deceased uncle.
It's a stupid question, but unlike most of the chatter and gossip, it catches Sasuke's attention. It's not so much food for thought as it is a brief prickle of discomfort, an irritating brush on the back of his neck. His eyes fall once to the side before picking up again and turning to the bottom of his empty glass, the rest of him unmoved as though made of the same material.
The conversation fades and dies and changes, lost in the murmuring atmosphere, but his distracted and unwanted feeling stays. Another few minutes pass before Sasuke finally resists the call and stands, settling for the shadow of a buzz and an unsatisfied aftertaste as he slips unnoticed from the dark bar.
Outside, the night is comfortably cool for June.