SasuNaru songfic: Cosmic Tears
Title: “Cosmic Tears”
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG-13 for suggestiveness
Timeline: Post-canon
Summary: Who would have thought the dobe can dance? [heavily implied Sasuke/Naruto] Please R&R!
Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto Masashi. Songfic to So Pure by Alanis Morrisette.
A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve written a songfic. Songs usually are a huge source of inspiration for me. The more I listened to this one, the more solid this freaky idea was getting until it forced me to write it)))
Dedication: to my dear friend LadyLara.
COSMIC TEARS
“There is a festival in the village tomorrow,” Tsunade says, scrutinizing him for any reaction. Sasuke remains unperturbed as he stands in front of her desk, allowing her to drill him with a hard gaze. She clears her throat and continues sternly, “It’s due in the evening. I expect you to be there.”
“Isn’t it odd to invite the destroyer to the party held in the honour of the destroyed village?” Sasuke asks in a bored voice.
“Call it official peace treaty.” Tsunade smiles dangerously. “We don’t need any problems with you; neither do you need any problems with us. Come. Have some fun. High time you came out of hiding.”
She is the embodiment of care with a gentle touch of schooling - and he can’t help but feel like he is stuck in kindergarten. When she wants to make a point, she doesn’t scream in spite of her heavy temper. She smiles.
It’s been four month since he returned to the Leaf Village as part of the Akatsuki force. Four months since he was captured after he fought Naruto until exhaustion prevailed and immersed him into the soothing oblivion of a faint. Two months since Tsunade released him from the Konoha Correctional Facility and told him in a bleak voice that the village needed more ninja.
She put him on petty D-rank missions, but at least it granted him enough solitude. He rarely saw anyone of his former teammates (save Naruto, of course, who habitually wouldn’t leave him alone unless he was away on assignment).
And now… the festival?
Sasuke’s face darkens. “What if I don’t want to?”
“You’d better show some respect to these people. There are a few teams that helped Naruto search for you. I know you couldn’t care less, but some of them had almost died.” Tsunade’s expression undergoes a smooth and barely noticeable transition from overly sweet to menacing. “You can’t pretend you’re not here forever.”
“What if I don’t want to celebrate?” Sasuke repeats, short of grinding his jaws together. That woman is beginning to get on his nerves.
Tsunade rises, the smile back on her face. Her honey-brown eyes stay surprisingly warm despite the very obvious steely glint.
“You’d better start wanting to.”
* * *
From the hilltop Konoha looks like a multitude of fireflies that hover above the darkened lowland. The heart of the festival is located in the small square in front of the Hokage Tower.
It’s a perfect night, showered gently with starlight and permeated with vague perfume and nectar. You can feel it sweeten the roof of your mouth inadvertently with every breath you take. Sasuke recalls absent-mindedly that he hates sweets. And Tsunade probably knows it.
Sasuke hates parties, too.
This one isn’t an exception.
He leans against the wall of one of the houses with a weary sigh and watches the brightly lit dance floor indifferently. The night is warm, filled with the chirping of cicadas and the low rumble of drums; it rebounds within Sasuke, synchronizing his breath to the rhythm of the dancing figures.
Among them, there is one that captures his attention instantaneously.
Luminous moreso than most anyone.
Unapologetically alive.
Knot in my stomach,
And lump in my throat.
He moves fluidly, ignoring the rhythm completely - and yet he seems very natural. He is wearing the Leaf’s traditional fishnet and a blindingly orange oversized shirt. It is unbuttoned; its flaps flutter around his torso like some grotesque butterfly wings with every move he makes. His hair is loose and unkempt; his yellow bangs stick to his forehead and mix with rays of light that stream from multi-coloured lanterns hung all around the dance floor. Light glides by his skin, licking the colours off, replacing them, painting him afresh.
Sasuke’s stomach clenches.
Naruto.
His moves are sharp as if he is fighting. He accumulates the tension in his muscles and then releases it all at once, skidding over the floor, hopping in the air, landing almost gracefully - the kind of exclusive grace that is caught between unspoken elegance and extreme clumsiness and pertains solely to Naruto - and going through another series of coarse, indefinite movements.
There are patches of other colours all around him. His glaring orange gets smeared over Sakura’s pink from time to time. She washes over him like a tidal wave, their hands joining in a fleeting touch, but one of them inevitably ebbs back into the ocean. Some time has to pass before the spotlight catches Naruto again.
Sasuke feel inexplicably drawn to that spot. Perhaps the natural instinct of rivalry has kicked in.
I love you when you dance,
When you freestyle in trance,
So pure, such an expression.
He takes a cautious step, acutely aware of every motion around him, though his eyes never leave the blockhead’s face.
Sasuke hates dancing as much as he hates sweets and parties. Hell, he hates it almost as much as he hates Naruto. Not that he particularly wants to dance now. It’s just another thing which he can be better than Naruto at.
He comes to a halt immediately before the dance floor, looks Naruto over from head to toes and finally sets foot on the warm trampled ground. He walks round Naruto, checking him out like a predator would examine its prey. The dancing figures shift. Someone gasps in brief surprise, but in general Sasuke’s appearance is taken for granted.
Naruto opens his eyes, and they entrain into Sasuke’s cold dark eyes instantly. Naruto wavers and falls out of step automatically. He collects himself and starts moving again. This time Sasuke imitates the movements, slowly adjusting them to the rhythm of the music, perfecting them so that even the flow of light that pours down on his body layer by layer becomes smoother.
Naruto tilts his head back and squints, his lips pursed decisively. His eyes gleam. He looks like an animal, prepared to defend its territory.
They circle round each other, their hearts drumming heatedly against their ribs. Tension builds inside, making their skin crawl and their breath hitch. Once or twice they almost brush each other. A hot whiff of Sasuke’s breath singes Naruto’s marked cheek.
Naruto glares at his rival. It feels as though they are back to square one.
‘Killjoy.’
Supposed former infatuation junkie.
I sink three pointers,
And you wax poetically.
They flit in the soft netting of light and fragrant smoke that comes off the incense burners. Their chakra sparkles within them as if a swarm of bubbles is coursing through their channels.
Naruto throws his arms up, entwines his fingers above his head and continues swaying like blades of grass in the wind.
Sasuke’s moves are more precise. He is like a snake, gradually hypnotizing each pair of eyes that dares follow his course.
Naruto flicks his tongue over his lips briefly to rid himself of the strangely dry sensation in his mouth; then grits his teeth and allows his features to transform into the expression of pure persistence: this is the battle he is not going to lose.
His chest heaves. For a few seconds all music dies down, leaving only the soft, barely audible chiming of bells in the air. Tens of sighs, warm and light like butterflies, weave a new web over the dance floor. Naruto holds his breath and pricks up his ears. It seems he can pick out Sasuke’s heartbeat.
He gets this strange tingly feeling all over his body: in the tips of his fingers, in the pit of his stomach, in his throat and in his groin. And he can’t bring himself to understand why.
The tune strikes up again, faster than before, and propels them back into their competitive dance. They quicken the pace. Their minds are racing and their hearts pick up speed once more.
Sweat courses down their foreheads. Their eyes are burning, so intense are the looks they send each other-
If it’s a fight, I’ll definitely win!
-but they can’t go a day without it, not since Sasuke made it back into the village and was forced to exist alongside Naruto again. They fight over every single thing because that’s how they find their balance.
Naruto blinks. His eyelids flutter, and Sasuke notices - for the first time - that Naruto’s eyelashes are in fact much darker than the radioactive yellow of his hair and brows. It is with this twisted illumination that he manages to pay heed to their colour - and it stirs him up.
Naruto springs up, thrusts his leg forward - almost a taijutsu move. Sasuke envisions countering this provocative pseudoattack and knocking him on the ground.
‘Show-off.’
I love you when you dance,
When you freestyle in trance,
So pure, such an expression.
He miscalculates the next step and falters and collides into Naruto, failing to slow his rotation down. Their bodies come into contact, rocking against one another, and it seems they would explode, and then they diverge, scorching each other with an angry glare.
They freeze on the opposite ends of the dance floor, eyeing each other over the heads of other dancers that close before them like waves.
Naruto’s skin is hot and his shirt is heavy with sweat. He smells of grass and miso-ramen with a touch of something Sasuke can’t quite put his finger on. Underneath it all there is a musky, very warm and strangely familiar scent of Naruto himself.
Sasuke smells of nothing but cool water and thunderclouds. Naruto subconsciously relates it to his electric jutsu, though he knows full well Sasuke hasn’t been able to use the Chidori or its variation since his return as part of agreement between him and Tsunade-hag. Beneath it, there’s just Sasuke. Unnamed, undefined smell that is ultimately not so different from his own.
They meet again, cutting into the sea of people like a breakwater - and they keep breathing, and keep moving, and keep spinning until they get light-headed and care too little for what is going on. Sasuke hasn’t felt so pure for a very long time. And Naruto has the nerve to grin at him. He finds it annoying and yet, mildly amusing.
“What are you trying to prove?” Naruto whispers to him when they come impossibly close to each other one more time.
“That I can easily beat you at anything, blockhead.”
Naruto laughs throatily.
Let’s grease the wheel over tea.
Let’s discuss things in confidence.
Let’s be outspoken, let’s be ridiculous,
Let’s solve all the world’s problems.
Their heels rap over the ground noisily - a rhythmic clicking sound that sometimes rises higher than the music. Sasuke brushes his damp fringe off his eyes and glares at the smiling Naruto. His next move is adopted from taijutsu as well; it’s a swift, barely visible undercutting intended to knock Naruto off his feet.
Naruto jumps up, avoiding the strike, and lands behind him. Sasuke whirls around, uncertain if it is prudent to even start a real battle now. Naruto irritates him more than words can say, but there is something in the way that he smiles that makes Sasuke want to hear him out.
“If we’d kept score of our competitions,” Naruto ventures breathlessly, “you woulda already lost.”
Sasuke knits his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“I got you out of your shell. Counts for two.”
His impossible grin grows even wider as he lets the crowd sweep him back into the dance. He is wild and natural and completely uninhibited and he fucking can’t feel the rhythm which means he can’t dance - but Sasuke follows him, and a soft smile crosses his lips.
I love you when you dance,
When you freestyle in trace,
So pure, such an expression.
That’s just the way Naruto is.
August 10-11, 2008