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Waking	By : Taes Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1123 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Summary:

Naruto prepares...After Sasuke's been taken by Orochimaru, can he save everything?
Quote: "it was dark / and ever are we (ninja) / children (creatures)/ of the night mother..."
WARNINGS: Neji x Naruto. (adult content). Hints of OroSasu, OroNaru, and flirting original character. Serious story.

Waking Damnation.
Despairing acts of a sun and moon
broken wings
Chapter Two, Naruto...by Taes.
My hand shakes as I dip the brush into ink so thin it runs gray. I bite my tongue (it runs red) and press my lips together. The roots of shinkon, tamashi, eien... all characters strung together in an odd arrangement to mean something I barely understand. The next line, coming from shi, jikoku, tennokuni, and something so old I don't even know where it catches its beginning.
Thick lines, in my hand.
Thick like blood

in ink like water.
I throw the calligraphy-brush in frustration...as far from me as I can get it so that it's got no road but to sink neatly into an ash tree. Oddly, it seems to me that the white tree's branches grew hair...my impatience might have broken the brush, if not for some long-last finesse on my part.
But he doesn't think so. �Naruto.� My name isn't a term of endearment, and it's not a call to arms. It just is. There isn't anything else to it. A voice, calm and smooth as candle-smoke.
I look up.
�There is meaning to what you write...� he shifts, �and in each stroke, there is life.� He pauses, and his single visible eye meets mine. �Do not forget.�
So he picks up his own brush, dabbed in orange ink like thin paint, whereupon he smoothes my lines over...to show where I need to work. His hand is perfect; a tribute to the stolen eye resting in his would-be empty socket.
A thought flashes through my head: a memory.
Kakashi, why do I have to do this?
A teacher's smile to an unhearing pupil. Split your concentration into thirds, and it feels as though there is no strain... he admonished. This is where your thought goes, he lightly caresses the paper and ink, and the rest comes from here. Kakashi puts his hand�larger than mine�on my chest...right above my heart.
It is an odd memory, but not so unfamiliar...and a new thought lashes through my conscious mind�did Kakashi ever do this for Sasuke?
Meanwhile, I retrieve my brush, and breathe...
�...so there's meaning, huh?� I steady my hand.
�Life...� And I begin to write.
. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .
�Announce your presence to the gods...�
The grave voice floods my ears and fills the pit of my stomach. We've walked so far now just to get here, within sacred walls of pure, ancient power...that very tremble of unearthly chakura no one feels but me...
I wish that it weren't...`just me' is such a damningly lonely thing.
My head's spinning, my eyes hot and my head too heavy. But I nod anyways while carefully lowering myself to the flat, uncomfortable pillow...and I pick up that smooth, sanded piece of wood. The leather wrapped around the end makes for padding, I suppose. So the spherical, bronze dish isn't damaged by too-hardy pilgrims. I meditate over my reasons for coming...and with eyes (too far) shut, I touch leather to bronze. The concurring vibration runs all the way up my arm to (touch) my mouth.
I wet my lips, feeling as though I've received a kiss.
Jiraiya coughs lightly. �Bow your head, and put your hands together twice...�
I smile, and clap...

once,

twice

just as he said. It's strange, that Jiraiya should be so. . .wise. . .about what I do and don't know. . .odd. But he is a hermit. I think he spends at least some time meditating on the meaning of life...or at least...never mind.
Looking at me with deep black eyes, the old man offers a tiny tilt of lips. �Let me teach you something...�
I look up expectantly, wondering if he'll grant my request so soon.
�The Heart Sutra... of the Perfection of Wisdom.

�Ma ka han nya ha ra mi ta shin kyou.�

the hermit pauses and waits for me to repeat.
I bite my tongue once, to wake my mind, and press my nails into my palms. Haltingly, breathily, I return the phrase to him, clutching at the meaning of those strange syllables�the combinations lingering in my head are so far from modern-day language�so the learning of it is slowed.
Time after time, Jiraiya repeats himself, leading me, a godless child, down the path that the Buddha paved...
Finally, we reach the end of the three-hundred-syllable sutra...by now, my mouth is dry, and my eyes are throbbing in their sockets. �Gya tei, gya tei, ha ra gya tei, ha ra sou gya tei, bou ji sou waka.� I rasp, and wonder how long past the sun has set.
The words have fled my mind, now, but that ancient meaning is etched there still.
Go.

go.

go far beyond,

awaken.

...hail...
�Han nya shingyou.� Jiraiya concludes. �The Heart Sutra.�
My mind is numb, my body stiff, and I let my head fall near my hands. Ungraceful, raw, and feeling like I know the power man is meant only to guess at...
what meaning hath Faith?

when there is�
�No guessing,� Jiraiya murmurs, oddly. �Not for me.� He pauses. �...I gave up long ago, trying to figure out why young brats,� he turns to stare at me, �such as yourself,� and then he looks away, �ask about anything.� His words suggest a lightness of air that his voice does not carry.
I wonder...which lies?

The mind, or the mouth...?
�...thank you,� I bow towards my teacher. Stiffly, I climb to my feet. �...but I don't��
��remember half of what you repeated?�
I let a rueful laugh break the quiet. �Try `all' in place of your `half' and you've got an answer, old man...�
The hermit chuckles, and his broad shoulders (still so much bigger than mine) shake with his mirth. �Shall I write it down?�
My hands quietly move at my sides, and silenced gestures of power�jutsu or words set to motion�are left only part-folded. I wish silently for the memory of one with eyes red as his mouth, want for the boy with the blood of genius flowing through him.
I reclaim my mind, then. �You'll write it with a pronunciation guide?� I ask, trying to put the child back to my voice.
Now his mirth explodes, despite my lack of true emotion. �...you, Naruto, might just...listen...and repeat. Until you remember it all.�
I guess we're (both) still hiding behind part-way formed masks...and generously, allow the other's hardness to glide over our fronts. But it's kind of him, nevertheless, to invite me back...I smile, and let my eyes truly open. �Shin gyou...� the heart sutra.. .is all about waking...and what?
Maybe I'll find out...
�Next time,� I bid him, and shuffle my (broken) frame through the doors, and under the gate.
Next time...I'll learn all there is to know.
And that will be a start.
. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .
With the hokage's blessing, I lean against white-washed walls, reading. My mouth moves as I run my eyes across largely unfamiliar phrases, a habit that he once teased me about relentlessly. Sometimes I can only guess what's written there, but as I first read over the now-legendary figure's writing, I'm only gathering an idea. The nuances will come from more careful study...
All that must be done on my own.
for if this goes down

�where no one can get out�

She's ordered me (us)

To be the only casualties.
It figures.
I run my hands over the smooth parchment, and roll it out farther to better read what
comes after...
The warm sun on my cheek

is a pleasant companion...

but what I would give

to have it speak!
I edge the scroll wider yet.
I've never studied this hard in my life...but for this (for him) I will. I have to...or it's all over for (us...) Konoha.
My thoughts wander away from the archaic phrasings and difficult kanji-compounds. I can't help it. The ninjutsu scrolls, the strong spells inside...my mind won't let it all fit.
Snake charmer. That's what I should be...but me? I'm not tall, not `classically' beautiful, hardly good looking at all. My anger is too hard, my eyes too bright. So what�
�Naruto,� a familiar voice...my old friend, my sometimes teammate...
I flick my wrist and murmur something too low for her to hear, and let my fingers dance swiftly. Forming seals. The scrolls are rolled tight, and they pile crisply in my bag, out of sight. �Sakura...� I train my lips to a grin. �Hey.�
My pink-haired friend doesn't seem impressed with my efforts to clean up, or to distract her. Instead, she raises an eyebrow. �Where did you learn that...?� she asks lightly from her perch on the windowsill. Like she doesn't care that she's disturbing me. �But why must you��
I break her train of thought with high-pitched, trilling laughter. Hearing it with open ears, I suppose Tsunade was right...I do sound like a fox...when I laugh like that.
Despite her cute hair covering her face, I can sense the disturbed twitch of lips, and read the alarm in her posture. Her previous question is forgot.
I stand. �See you around, Sakura.� And my feet carry me out of there, a golden shadow on white walls.
. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .
Hands together, briefly,

hold it steady, so the ink doesn't

drip. Sign of the dragon, for power,

the hen for balance.
Remember what the teachers said,
keep it clear
keep it steady
bring him close and hold him tight,

whisper nothing, fill it with syllables

standing for characters, for kanji

for meaning too deep for him (too

deep for me)
bring it up and carry it out,

but always
hold
him
close.
. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .
The wind blows.
It's pleasant...sitting as I am, head rested on a great tome, bare feet touching the rocky soil... Every now and again, the water will reach out and touch my toes, or the wind will rest a feathery hand on my brow, sending my golden hair flying in my face. I feel...almost special. It's nice.
Long hours of this have brought my skin to a golden hue, a bronze that marks me as a sun-child...
(It's funny. Once, when we were stationed together for a few months in the Snow Country, Sakura kept looking at me, with something like surprise on her sweet face. When I asked her, she replied, I never thought you could get so pale... and she traced her pink hand across my dead white fingers. You look almost like Sa� but she didn't finish that thought. Neither did I.)
Currently, my shirt is pulled up, my pants nudged (just barely) out of the way, so that only my hips and below are covered. To the average passerby, my absent hand tracing the skin around my navel must seem odd...almost childish. But I can see something they can't.
There's dark, black ink on me, swirling inward, inward, ever in as I watch...yet with my fingers poised like a calligraphy brush, I trace the seal...
Shinkon wo...
I allow for a tiny smile on my face.
. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .
We're here. Finally, terribly here. I'm with the first group to detail Sound, ready to map and chart the territory with these men and women�great minds and wielders of secret jutsu. My own presence seems questionable, when one looks at these people...these figures given ANBU masks and swords for their quick wit, their undisputable skill...
I'm not masked. I'm dressed in tight clothing (not easily caught on the dense trees or rocks surrounding all hidden villages), black. I bear no armor, and carry only mandatory weapons and scrolls...limited food to suggest a quick run.
One of my superiors signals me forward with quick and irritable gestures (for those who might be watching). �Naruto.� His voice is clipped, curt. �You weren't supposed to be here.�
I allow for a cocky smile. �No shit.�
�You're a liability.� His mask blocks any trace of doubt in his eyes, while his voice covers the rest. �You aren't part of my team...�
It's my job to read beneath that. �If I fall,� I tilt my head up arrogantly, barely (sweetly) exposing my tender neck, �you're leaving me here,� so that it's a statement, not a question.
The anbu captain doesn't reply directly. �I can't endanger my team for you.�
I offer a tiny laugh. �Yeah. I know.� My mouth seems too full, my heart too close to the air.
�Get in. Get out. And don't.do.anything!�
Swallowing my doubt, I offer a curt little nod. �Yes, sir...� sure to leave a good impression for future missions.
I walk on, into darkness.
...strange, though...that's the last I see of him.
. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .
While I'm journeying, flying through the trees at a breakneck speed I am struck (still) by the paleness of the moon...the branches (black against his radiant light) seem like fine, long hair... I suppose that's when it hits me...
What am I doing here?
I already know.
You see, he taught me everything, with a small little smile and sweet eyes (hidden behind colorless irises)...to show me what would be done.
Naruto... his voice carried a touch of hesitancy, even in my memory. Shortly after he spoke, his eyes widened, like he realized exactly how intimate this was supposed to be, and then his eyes narrowed. The conflict in his head...it's so strange, to see it written clearly in those glassy orbs...
We are shinobi. I tell him, pulling our naked bodies close. The darkness of the apartment seems to enfold us. Besides, Neji...
He stops me with a shift of his gaze. I see it, then, that Neji cannot let go of his morals so easily. Let me pretend, he murmurs, touching a delicate hand to my face, let me cherish you for one night.
If it were daylight, if we were anywhere but there, clothed or not, I would have laughed in his face. Mocked him for being so emotional, when shinobi are without feeling. But...
it was dark

and ever are we (ninja)

children (creatures)

of the night mother...
Instead, I smile at him, press my mouth to his neck. I find the warmth there, and he wraps strong arms around me. For perhaps the first time, I choose not to fight back. Just this once, I'll let my thoughts prove me stronger...not my actions.
Besides...it would be a disservice to him, to act as though I don't care...then it would seem as though one Konoha ninja treated another of the Leaf exactly as an enemy...using sex as a tool to inspire fear or helplessness. See, that isn't Hyuuga, Neji. It just isn't. He must be allowed to keep his dream...to think that he's never encaged another with force (or misrepresentation).
Neji... I moan.
Idiotically, one of my strangest memories surfaces. Tsunade and Sakura, red-cheeked and wide-eyed at some girls' story of sex and romance. It struck me as odd...that my sometimes teacher should be so ghastly innocent in...areas.
I smile into Neji's hair, and quietly thank him for it.
In reply, he grunts, I doubt he'll do this... He pushes my head away suddenly, cheeks stained pink. Don't slobber so much, Naruto. Keep your kisses neat, for all the gods' sake...! he snaps, nervous now. I don't know, but maybe that's the first time I've heard him yell.
My eyes narrow. Show me what to do.
A bemused smile graces his moonlight features, don't lay flat. You'll only hurt yourself. whereupon he slowly, unerringly, moves my body...explaining in a low, throaty voice that reminds me of�
�that sends shivers down my neck.
Stop squirming; you're not a kid. he tsks quietly, god, Naruto...this lubrication is to keep from hurting�
Shit, you didn't say you were�
Would you have let me? he demands, hair in his sweaty face. Do you even know how to use a condom?
I can feel my face grow hot. yes... the shadows grow around my eyes.
So prove it, and goddamit, don't do that...
Minutes pass in uncomfortable movement, and the shadows grow closer.
Naruto... Neji tries again, moaning, pulling on me

pushing

and holding

me.
His hands are gentle, his voice calm, but filled with something I don't know how to classify. When you're... he gasps a little, and I feel...strange...with him...and me... it will only affect you, Naruto... a fast, shuddering breath, if you let it...
Is that right, I wondered.
I watch the shadows on the wall, and practice...feeling nothing. I can only try to stop it. Try and keep my head�
pleasure, strange, warm, wet

smooth
or all is lost.
Neji unknowingly gives me the answer when he arches his neck (so prettily) against the flickering light. In the forthcoming shadows, I see a bird, dancing in flight...and I have my foundation.
I can...because I must.
Neji's voice quavers as he speaks to me...Naruto...
After that, there are no words.
I've found myself out of memories, walking along the outskirts of a village...listening under trees, motioning, flitting from shadow to shadow (those silent black shades that saved me). There is no sound from Oto. I see what I need to see (the number of guards, the entrance position, those sorts of things), and retreat.
When I turn my head to sleep, I can't help but wonder...
...is he thinking of me, too?
. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .
That soul-sucking bastard...
I can't believe he would let himself be so screwed...if these signs are pointing to where I think they are...he's gone and let�
�no fucking way.
My stomach's clenching over (tighter than with Neji), my mouth seems to taste like some kind of animal died there...but I know it can't be true. It's just my mind toying with me...it's all in my head...
...it's got to be.
My breath is faster than usual...my heart's pounding...shit. What if he hears�god, what if it doesn't work?
Inari...lord of kitsune...help me. Nameless god of the earth under my feet, swallow me first (before he truly takes me for his own...) god of the air, steal his breath should I fail. God of the forest surrounding me, claim this forsaken village if I'm not so blessed...
...please....
...don't.leave.me. there. Don't let him stay�
A noise behind me; good. The anbu are supposed to be outta here by now...so I'm left to my own devices. A smile creeps across my bloodless lips. Everything's falling into�
�What's this?� a low, sensuous melody breaks the spell of silence.
My face goes white. Fuck. I try and turn around, to get on her backside, but�shit�too slow.
Cold hands on my wrist, a deadly laugh in my ear. �Going somewhere, love?� and his ghostlike figure fastens some jutsu-bound leash around my arms.
I choke, �get your hands��
�Darling...� imitating a voice much slower, much worse than her smoke-like drawl, she seems somehow soft. �You are shinobi. � her laughter seems too fast, �...and we are not allies.� She smirks into my neck. �So say your last��
A quick breath makes her think I'm frightened. My lips won't work right, so I do my best to stutter, �Sasuke.�
Her cruel grip gives, just a little bit, �what?�
�Uchiha Sasuke...� I murmur, �I'm here to��
Suddenly I'm slung about, face to face with this gray, womanly figure. �Uchiha Sasuke...� she repeats, silver eyes flashing. �...I haven't heard that name in a while...� and something like regret flits across her comely features. �He can't help you now.�
My lips fall, �...no...�
�He is Orochimaru's...through and through.� With that, she tugs on my hair to better see the whisker marks adorning my face. �...you...� silence for a heartbeat, �...you're the Fox.�
I laugh, and each syllable is like the whimpering of a fox-kit. I close my eyes against her truth-seeking orbs of gray. �...Sasuke was my��
She lets out a howl of laughter, eager to free her emotions. �Sasuke's?� her voice seems so low for a woman, but there's no denying her figure. �Oh, dear...� she pulls a hand out to stroke my throat...
suddenly my heart is not my own.

breath comes like lightning, eyes close (no...can't) help it...

it seems as though fear

(itself) has entered

me,

despite my warm and refined

refusal of blood...
The viper has caught me in her coil.
...but (little) does she know...
�Be careful about having sex with that one...� she warns with a vicious smile, �It's dangerous to fool around with his pet!� she smirks a little wider, �...he's unpredictable,� raises an eyebrow, and her red mouth opens to me. �Darling...� her eyes tighten as she looks upon my spinning face. �But that's precisely what you want...� a quick lunge of fingers and her kunai is at my throat. �Isn't it?�
Memories flood my mind�gold and black eyes�a (cold) hand in me...through my chest.
Presently, my eyes roll backwards. My whole body goes limp.
One word in my mind...in my mouth... �...sa...sasuke....?�
But what can I do?
. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .
Next time: Sasuke. smoke in my eyes.
Comments are adored, looked upon for inspiration, and generally well liked.
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Waking