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The Curse of the Red Vine Lovers	By : Moonstruckcat Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 978 -:- 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
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The Curse of the Red Vine Lovers

Chapter two: He lives in a box.

The Crazed and/or Apologetic author�s note: Ahhh! I realize now how out of date these authors notes are. This story is over a year and a half old�the first chapter I started in March 2006, I think. Ahhh! I don�t even work at the library anymore. Sooo, this is my first time doing the aff.net thing---I�m all a flutter. But I don�t like the fact I can�t reply to you guys! It saddens me to degrees of sadness. But on a happy note! I got my first critical review ever! I�m so excited�so I�m sorry if you guys are angry at me for replying because I know it irks me when other�s do, so sorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

Wang or Yang (You�re name is in my email, but I can�t find the email anymore (because I�m computer illiterate) so I�m sorry I�m butchering your name, sorrrrrrry!) ---I�m sorry that you don�t particularly like my style. It was not something bred from a 6th grade teacher�s rants on adjectives. Actually, it�s quite the opposite. It�s a commonly accepted fact that writers should describe things concisely and simply�it�s practically the first thing they taught me in my creative fiction writing classes. But, for the atmosphere that I am trying to construct, plus the themes I wish people would pick up on, these surreal, almost completely absurd metaphors/similes are needed.

I don�t use the thesaurus very much�only when I feel like a single word isn�t accomplishing what I want it to in a sentence. When I was twelve I bought into the entire �let�s throw words in there I scarcely understand to look intelligent ,� and the thesaurus was my bffidkjill. Maybe I�m still adding in words like cobalt or azure (I forgot which one you picked out) because of that one fateful year I scoured dictionary.com every day to gobble new words. But Minneapolis agrees with me! They love their azure diamonds. I write more now to appease my own ideas on the universe, its lack of ultimate truth, and its overall meaninglessness.

Soooooooo, basically, with my confusing and often times, VERY aggravating style of writing, I�m trying to incorporate elements bred from Absurdism, postmodernism and some Nietzsche into a story that challenges every human who claims to know �right� and �wrong��good and evil, while still composing a story people want to read. ((however unsuccessful I may be�oh le well�but that�s something I really doubt you can help me with. It�s more of something I must work through on my own.)) (I seriously don�t know how people plow through it, though�I thought there�d be far more people hating it then you, but you�re pretty much the first one. It�s a disheartening thought�people are supposed to be detracted and attracted at the same time, so as to illustrate the chord of paradoxes our world lies on because of everyone�s conflicting individual truths. Also, our need for truth, but inability to attain an ultimate, absolute reality). I�m hoping to show the meaninglessness of language---without a body to process it, what the hell is it? It�s nothing but dead ink. Through sometimes surreal, absurd images (I think you brought up the metaphor with diamonds or whatever�I really hated that one because it really did sound like an over-zealous 16 year-old, flipping through her cute little dictionary. AND GOD! I don�t remember using the word orbs, but in the year it�s been since I wrote this, I don�t think I used it again. I also detest it, and I think the only reason I started using it again was because I saw it employed in a part of Heart of Darkness and thought �Hey, he did it�, but I�m probably wrong. I know it was lurking somewhere in literature, I just don�t remember where�also, there was no other way to illustrate what I was trying to exemplify by the fleshy pouches. The eyes/our body are/is the only medium we have to interact with this world, and the reality we interpret everyday is seen through and translated by them. By comparing them to diamonds (which are obviously a very precious stone, and it symbolizes bonds and love and romantic gibberish between people made by people to keep people from killing each other, so they�ll screw more and pop out babies, even though diamonds are in gross abundance in the mines ((fucking jewelling cunts)), I was hoping to portray how precious his romantic out-look on reality was�and even though it was slightly challenged by something far outside the boundaries of the truths he has come to accept and enjoy�by being enclosed inside his �fleshy pouches� or whatever I said, it is to be inferred that they are still grasping to their beliefs, the reality they�ve fostered and been content with all these years and they�re hiding in their desperate, sweet un-realities they�ve come to believe are true---

You know what? If you really actually give a flying flip about it specifically, feel free to email me. I�m tired of typing and slightly tipsy. I could be tottttttttttallllllllllllllllllly bullshitting you�unable to admit that my style is that of a prepubescent obsessed, awkward child who can�t remember the proper rules about commas. But trust me guy, if your concerned at all (which I don�t think you are-- I would expect someone to be a bit more helpful then derogatory if they honestly wanted to help a sista out)�I�ve passed all my little creative writing courses and the higher ups who are in charge of my degree don�t think it�s bad at all. I�ve still got 80 arduous years to go, so it�s no where near awesome, but still, heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey. Fan fiction is my play area, my little Mc.Donalds ball-pit niche, and I rarely go back and rectify it simply because of laziness. I have to write seriously latttter, right now why not play around with words and torture them by hurling them in circumstances they don�t normally like to occupy? How far can a word be stretched? How long before a sentence is just a jumble of meanings? How far before it no longer holds its original intentions? I�m looking to measure that gap. And incorporate my bullshit all at the same time! What a glorious endeavor, two lumps for my tea please!

Also, I�m hoping that the feeling my style gives is that of butt-rape. So if you don�t feel thoroughly anally violated by my throbbing, stiff penis-y words, then I�m obviously not doing my job well enough. That�s something I need to worry about. But thank you for your review!

Happy anal discharge everybody! I lurrrrrrrrrrrveeeee you!

Excerpt from Rumsfield�s Extensive Guide to Most Every Curse. Chapter 14. Page 496

��Bonding curses are possibly the least popular of all curses, exempting of course the blood-boiling curses which create frequent and almost unbearable pain when in the �marked� or �cursed situation�, i.e. when an angry housewife curses her husband to feel terrible pain every time he strolls absently into a pub.

A bonding curse is simply the tying or knotting of two essences of a certain boundary of the body. In the ancient Egyptian times, high priests tied the essences of the laboring slaves� sweat together so when they began to toil under the high sun they could not escape one another without feeling an immense pain in their pores. Even through the hundreds of different variations of the Bonding Curse, the premise is mostly the same: the forceful act of fastening an essence so the curse�s candidates cannot escape one another. Some are reversible, some aren�t. Some activate in a matter of moments, others can lie dormant for hundreds of years. The most popular of these is possibly the Bribe of the Black Bird curse which is just the tying of two human�s pinkie fingers� essences, which in turn keeps a promise rather forcefully.
Of course, without dispute, the most detested bonding curse is at the same time the rarest to have ever been cast. It is the literal knotting of two unknowing people�s souls; the formation of a potent bond that compels two persons to be together, even if it is utterly against their will. The name has a very ironic ring to it: The Curse of the Red Vine Lovers.�
Naruto hated feeling corned. It was an abhorrence that struck at his very basic nature; an animalistic instinct to avoid any situation which thrust him against a wall and left him choice-less and caged. When those particular conditions rushed him, he became an animal�eyes dilated, focused and pointed like a slick needle; hair frazzled, astray, on end; lips quivering, unsure. He only had two choices at this point. His choice was the only thing that could define him as a creature: Whether to cower or bare his fangs.

Naruto was no coward. He always flashed his fangs.

It had flooded him gradually, this feeling, like he was stuck in a box steadily sinking to the bottom of the sea. It had begun a week ago, the day after he had returned home from the library with the mysterious red stain on his shirt. Because of his more violent, brawling years in middle school, Iruka had grown accustomed to whipping out the first aid kit whenever he stumbled home with various blood spatters all over his clothes. There was no measure to the extreme guilt he felt every time Iruka sighed and cast his dejected eyes upon him, antiseptic in hand ready to willingly clean his wounds. Naruto promised to his guardian every instance that after it, he would not fight back when somebody pushed or bantered him�he would cower. He would not bare his fangs.

But his ethereal promises shattered under the weight of the animal instinct that growled on its haunches inside of him, and sure enough, he would totter home the next week decorated in black and blue badges of his inability to control himself. For some reason though, people tired of picking fights with him in high school. In its dank, gray halls he was safe from disappointing Iruka, the one man that had believed in him enough to trust him in his own house. It had been one year since he had been involved in a fight and that was why, he guessed, Iruka was unrelenting.

�Grounded.� He had announced to a flabbergasted Naruto. �Indefinitely.�

After asking just what the hell indefinitely meant, he had been padlocked inside of his room. There, in the boundaries of his white walls, he had been forced to stalk the door, protesting his confinement with weak shouts of how the blood wasn�t his�he didn�t know how it got there�why didn�t he believe him?�Where was the love?�He couldn�t keep him in there for forever!�This was insane�He was insane--He�d never do it again!�Honest�Never, never again!

So, Naruto�s severe grounding only lasted for a matter of hours until Iruka either crushed under the pathetic pitch of his voice or couldn�t concentrate on anything with Naruto wailing at the door. But the punishment still remained�he was not allowed to go anywhere after school. He was to report home right after the door�s let out.

�How will you know if I�ve gone anywhere?� The blonde boy had interrogated the next day at breakfast. �You�re not here when I get back.�

Iruka didn�t even look up from behind the veil of his morning newspaper.

�Believe me. I�ll know.�

His icy voice had been enough reassurance in Naruto�s mind for him not to dick off and disobey his suddenly foreboding guardian.

But it was a week into his imprisonment and the animal inside of him reared and roared as he was forced into the confines of the small apartment everyday. The monotony was sending aches through his skull. The only times he felt truly liberated were in the brisk walks home, babbling gleefully next to his only companion. Then, on Tuesday, Shikamaru just suddenly stopped coming to school. Naruto would�ve gone over to his apartment to check on him, but he didn�t know exactly where he lived (he had an idea that it was somewhere on Kimishimo street, but which home he couldn�t place). So, his only freedom lost its sheen as he had to travel by himself to and from school; completely alone; completely isolated from any companionship whatsoever. The animal inside of his belly began scratching at his cage.

On top of everything, Naruto�s nose had begun dripping and sneezing, a clear indicator he was beginning to catch a cold, and his stomach still felt a ghost of the pain which had seized it fiercely a week before. He also couldn�t help but jump and run frantically away from every black haired pale person he happened to bump into, (and it being Japan, that happened to be a lot). To summarize, the past week had inhaled profusely.

However, the cherry on top was delivered on Thursday when Orochimaru-sensei returned their projects. With nothing better to do then sit in his room and wallow, Naruto had actually completed his assignment, digging through a multitude of books and extracting ideas he hardly could discern but wrote down nonetheless. He expected more than an A on this report; he expected recognition for the endless knowledge he had poured over the paper, the hours (okay, maybe hour) he had driven his hand to write seemingly pointless words down that were large and mostly unrecognizable, and for the glorious conclusion he sealed at the end stating confidently that death could one day be cured. He expected more than an �F�.

But that was the grade slashed and bleeding deliberately at the top of his project. There, right above his title, was a wound to his intelligence; an infected gash spewing his stupidity and a pungent smell. Rage roared through him. He didn�t deserve this�He deserved better.

The animal fractured the walls of his cage and pounced out into liberation.

�What the hell?� He exclaimed loudly, slamming his paper ferociously down unto his unsteady desk. All movement in the class halted; every breath remained tight and safe inside the lungs. Any noise above a whisper and the breathless voice of their Sensei seemed almost too foreign to fathom inside the white-wash walls. Orochimaru-sensei slowly turned from the girl he was delivering a paper to and gazed at Naruto evenly.

�Whatever is the matter, Uzumaki?� His quiet, low voice echoed in the silent room.
�People don�t normally talk loudly and out of turn unless they�re displeased about something. Just what is it you are so displeasured with?�

�My paper!� He interjected, fury compelling his body to spring out from behind his desk and stand. The monster was growling, his fangs flashing from his pink gums.
�I worked really hard on it! I did all kinds of research. I even went to the library.�

Orochimaru smiled calmly, folding his arms and staring at him at him with those detached eyes that could not decide whether they were yellow or brown. Naruto felt his fingernails clawing the tender skin of his palm.

�Just because you put forth effort, doesn�t mean you�ll succeed. It�s a basic aspect to life.� The grin on his face slowly molded into an omnipotent leer. �Life is opportunity and probability. Hard-work does not have to be repaid.�

�But it should be!� He cried desperately, snatching his paper off his desk and chunking it to the floor. �I worked hard on it, harder than I�ve ever worked on anything before! I did everything you wanted! What else could you have possibly wanted?�

�More.� The pale teacher said. �I wanted more. Isn�t that what all people desire? More?�

�But-But! The syllabus! I-�

�You supplied me with a moronic outline that detailed nothing.� Orochimaru-sensei�s light brown eyes glittered eerily for a moment. �Tell me, Naruto, how does if feel to know that the world does not guarantee results for hard work? How does it feel to understand now that fairytales and myths have lied to us for ages? �That dreams don�t always come true, even if the protagonist gives it his all? Hm? Does it hurt?� The man�s sharp, thin lips cast out a menacing smirk that was utterly cold. �Does it burn?�

The animal whimpered as Naruto snatched his paper off the floor and hastily exited the classroom, slamming the door loudly behind him. He did not run. He did not hide. He had bared his fangs only to be whipped and beaten. He lost. His heavy, angry footsteps did not lighten until he was safely outside the school building and behind the veil of a cooling vent. Sliding down against the brick wall, his uniform catching momentarily on the bumpy texture, he plopped down unto the yellow, dying grass and sighed. His paper was still wadded up in his hands and he carefully smoothed it out to take one more glance at it just to make sure the grade hadn�t changed.

He flipped mindlessly through the pages, watching the red marks marring his words flash by in transient bursts. On the last page, right beneath his would-be-amazing conclusion, Orochimaru-sensei had inscribed in his loopy, long handwriting:

�There is no cure to death.�
At three thirty, right as doors let out, a tall, grimy-looking man wearing a black hoodie and sporting a long, tangling brown beard leisurely strolled unto the sidewalk�s juncture in front of the school�s gates. He did not turn to look at the school children rushing out, swinging their bags carelessly and trotting just inches from him; he simply stood there as if his feet had decided on taking root in that specific spot. As they walked through the gate, a small cluster of boys nudged each other in their sides as they spotted the unclean man. Eyes gleaming, they ran forward and faced the man whom did not even cast them a curious glance.

The chubbiest of the group frowned as all eyes shifted unto him and he began to slowly rummage through his bag. Moments later, his hand emerged, clenched around several bills of yen. In the presence of the eager eyes, he sighed and relinquished his money into the suddenly open palm of the filthy man. They quickly received a pack of cigarettes in return and they clambered off, whooping loudly and patting the portly bespectacled boy on the back.

Naruto watched this from behind the cooling vent and he waited with his lip tucked in his teeth until the boys disappeared into the vibrant mass of students. Timidly, he stepped out from behind his hiding spot and stalked across the street in direction of the silent, dirty man, his unused lunch money jingling softly against his thigh.

Naruto hated feeling cornered. It was the fiery sensation that sent the animal inside him bucking. He never cowered. He always bared his fangs, but sometimes he lost; actually, most of the time he was defeated. In middle school, his arms were just not burly enough to shield him from black eyes and blue lumps. In high school, his mind was just not strong enough to protect him from failing marks and disapproving stares. When he lost, he felt the need to stealthily strike at something; something that signified defined categorization. When he used be squashed in middle school, he would run home, punch a pillow and then decimate his room, tearing down all his posters and hurling his CDs against the wall in a sightless fury. It made him feel more in control by destroying the organization; by creating a mess of the rules.

It was at this time he felt truly absolute.

Now, his room had lost its amazing ability to satisfy the pitiful monster whimpering inside him. He needed a larger rebellion then it could provide him with; he desired to act upon something that defied the very heart of society and law.

--And that was why he was sitting cross legged on the fifth floor of the abandoned, old hotel building on the corner of Takanawa west, with a cigarette in between in his lips. He didn�t really like smoking, it made him feel like he had swallowed hot charcoal, but the liberating feeling it instilled was enough to bare the raw, flaming sensation in his throat. Capturing the smoke in his mouth, he slowly allowed it to spill from his lips. He hazily watched the gray, wispy rings spiral upwards to the molding, wooden ceiling, noting absently the way it seemed to evaporate as it collided against the paneling.

�You do understand that�s against the law, and more importantly, bad for you.�

The cigarette suddenly soared out of his mouth as Naruto clambered up right. A rumbling baritone sounded from somewhere in between the naked wooden beams in front of him.

�Who�s there?!� He howled, skirting around the floor space and warily peeking around a column. Suddenly, the entire building seemed darker and more ominous than before. The walls still boasted slivers of its antique, flowery wallpaper from the almost indefinable times before, but mostly the entire structure had been stripped down to its bare wood essentials; not even the divisions of the separate rooms remained. When he stepped forward heavily, the uncovered floor grumbled and shivered violently beneath his weight. While it may have appealed to the posh, rich party people in the past, Naruto knew that the only guests this hotel attracted now were hobos and crack addicts looking for a free place to crash.

Hesitantly, he called out again. �Hello? I didn�t mean to disturb your um---crack nest. I�ll just be, um, leaving, okay?�

�Crack nest?� The voice replied, a distinct amusement fluttering inside it.

I�m sorry Shikamaru� He thought miserably, as he took a tentative step backwards. Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! You told me not to come in here. You said it was infested with crazy crack-heads who ripped little boys� limbs apart and drank their blood�but I didn�t listen. Oh, damn it, what will Iruka think when he sees me all butchered up? He�ll know I was here and he�ll ground what�s left of me! Kuso!

An image of Iruka padlocking his severed body parts in his room flitted through his mind rather quickly, but he shook it away.

�Well, it does seem rather fitting doesn�t it?� The baritone snickered. Naruto was beginning to wonder if all crack addicts were premeditated killers whom first sought to converse with their objects of prey before they sliced them to bits. It seemed more like some of that psychology bullshit he didn�t understand at all.

Offhandedly, though, Naruto noticed that the voice seemed to be echoing from a gaping black hole in the ceiling where a toilet used to stand on the next floor. His animalistic tendencies sent him tip-toeing towards it. If you get it first then it can�t get you.

�Um, I really didn�t mean to barge in.� He babbled, slowly creeping forward. �You gotta do what you gotta do, they say and what you�re doing is completely fine! Honestly! It�s great we have drug-enjoying people like you in life to um�be there. And help all us, eh, drug newbies understand the drug world just a little bit better.�

Finally, he stood wordlessly underneath the black gap, staring upwards cautiously. It was immensely dark upstairs.

�H-Hello?� He questioned quietly, gazing into the profound dark that appeared boundless. Anxiously, he waited a couple of seconds with his fingers nestled tightly in his sweating palms. When no reply emerged, he sighed, calmed.

�Hello.�

His head jerked up immediately and spotted a very pale face that contrasted terribly with the overwhelming darkness enfolding it. On instinct, his hands flung up to shield his face from an imaginary onslaught on his limbs and his lips released a rather high-pitched and just flat-out unmanly scream.

�Ahh! PLEASE DON�T CHOP ME!�

Suddenly, a large tremor on the floor beneath him signaled a new arrival in the room. Slowly, he lowered his hands and gasped.

�Mouth-molester!�

The black-haired, wan-faced mouth-molester in question tilted a quizzical eyebrow toward his hairline and ogled Naruto oddly.

�Is that what I am now?�

�Yes, you crazy pervert!� The blonde kid cried crossly, banishing him with an imposing, outstretched finger. �You k-kissed me and you well�first off, you don�t even know me. Second, we�re both men.�

�Boys.� The perverse boy corrected, folding his arms and leering. �Firstly, boys kiss each other all the time.�

�No they don�t you gross sick��

��And secondly, I know you very well, seeing as I�ve been forced to follow you for the past week or so.� The depraved pervert affirmed, his haughty smirk widening a couple of perilous inches at Naruto�s flabbergasted expression.

�You WHAT?� He yelled, the fragile, splintered window panes rattling fearfully in their wooden frames.

�I�ve been following you. How much more do I have to say to get the point through your thick skull?� He sighed, rubbing his temples with two elongated fingers. Naruto was strongly reminded of Shikamaru and almost waited to hear the boy mutter �bothersome�.

�At seven, you wake up, swipe your alarm clock to the floor, and topple out of your bed unto a dirty pile of clothes. Then, you stumble into the bathroom, usually ramming groggily into the threshold in doing so, and no; I am not a pervert who watches whatever you do in there. But it does take you a while to come out, sort of girly if you ask me.� Naruto growled warningly. �Then you extract a shirt from said pile and throw it on along with your uniform and proceed to breakfast where you talk with the older man you live with�is he your dad? Doesn�t matter.

�After you finish stuffing down those sickening instant noodles, which are absolutely terrible for you by the way, you glance at your watch, freak out, and sprint to school where you are compelled to climb the fence because you are habitually tardy and from then on, all I can do is sit outside or on top of the roof and wait for you to finally stagger out of school, ranting and raving about something or other and make your way home. You know? You�re pretty boring, dobe. I would�ve expected my cursed mate to be a little less predictable. This is probably the most interesting thing you�ve done in the past week.�

What do I do? The question swerved swiftly through his mind, coercing his right foot to steal a pace back. He had never been faced with such a situation like this before. Yes, he�d been manhandled by his peers before, but they had never crossed the threshold beneath his belt. There were unseen lines sketching the dissimilarity of the two abuses that only those of a perverse nature totally sidestepped. He could handle fists, kicks, but this? What was even �this�? Do I run? Do I scream?

Obviously sensing his discomfort, the dark-haired boy attempted to adjust his lips into a kind smile, which only helped to make him appear as if he was secretly pleasured by something. Naruto retreated with another step.

�Listen dobe,� The boy stated irately. �We�ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I�m Uchiha Sasuke.� He held out his hand which hung there quietly in the air as Naruto examined it. There was a moment it seemed as if he was going to actually place his hand into the waiting, pallid palm of the man dubbed Sasuke, but after a session of silent seconds passed, his hand still remained suspended pointlessly in the air.

�I didn�t think it would be this way.� The boy suddenly said more to himself than to Naruto. His hand fell unceremoniously to his side and he stepped forward. After a long sigh, Sasuke focused his pointed black eyes on Naruto, who all of a sudden felt the need to squirm and move out of the way of his sharp gaze.

�There�s something I need to talk to you about, Naruto.�

�How the hell do you know my name?� Naruto snapped, feeling his face scrunch up into a nasty scowl.

Sasuke tched. Naruto had a strange feeling his sound was a lot like Shikamaru�s peeved gesture of stuffing his hands into his pockets. What a moody bitch!

�I told you I�ve been following you for the past week.� His charcoal eyes rolled sardonically. �Are you truly this much of an idiot?�

�Shut up, teme!��

Sasuke took a step forward.

��I�m a little confused��

He took another step.

��And you�re a really shady person to be hanging out here��

�Another step.

��I don�t even know you!�

�And another step�

Until Sasuke�s thin, long nose was a small span from his own. Hesitantly, he looked directly into his eyes, which upon closer inspection appeared a lot more brown than far away. They seemed to contain slivers of a light, sandy tan bursting forth from the pupil like a small cinnamon nova. He swallowed the sudden knot of panic that had rendered his voice box utterly ineffective. Clearing his throat loudly as if to suggest his violated proximity, he scowled into the gap-like irises.

�Besides, you�re a pervert who has cornered me in an old, empty building where you could do anything you wanted at anytime because we�re five stories up and the only one who would come to rescue me would be a crack-head who would rip me apart anyway and I�ve never been in a situation before where I had a creepy ass stalker and I�m just about ten seconds away from kicking you swiftly in the balls and running for my big, muscular friend Shikamaru who will easily kick your ass.� Naruto sucked in a mouthful of air.

Sasuke simply stared, his eyes gleaming transiently with an emotion he couldn�t quite discern. �Are you finished?�

�Yeah, that�s about it.� Naruto snapped. �So, I�d appreciate it if you just walked away right now unless you want to be pummeled to the ground.�

�Oh please,� the cryptic boy simpered, idly brushing the dust caked on his shoulders off. Grimacing, Naruto noted that the decrepit building spilled dust like seeds as if hoping to spread its roots anywhere but in its own molding foundation.
�The most you could do is swing at me, topple over, and then cry.�

His face suddenly engulfed in heat, Naruto scowled and exclaimed. �I could do so much worse than that, I could��

Suddenly, two hands slammed on either side of his head against the shabby, unsteady wall. The entire structure trembled as dust sprinkled from the ceiling and refracted the orange, afternoon sunshine so that the whole room seemed almost surreal and mystical. Naruto gazed wildly into the strange boy�s black, calm eyes.

�Do you do this often?�

�Do what?� Muttered Naruto quietly, his voice small and subdued. A primal, quivering fear had muzzled the animal inside him. It seemed to be seeping slowly from his brain to his toes, as if a cool stream of water was dripping from his ears.

�Get people off topic purposely so you don�t have to hear the truth.�

�You�re full of shit.�

Sasuke grinned. �Maybe, but I think that might just be our only common bond.�

�Screw you.� The blonde boy spat, attempting to dart out from beneath the man�s sturdy, pallid arms. Sasuke responded by leaning in closer, until his nose was almost scraping Naruto�s. He could once again see the small, cinnamon petals that sprouted from his dark shining pupils.

�You�re welcome to one day in he future,� (Naruto�s jaw fell open), �But for now, we need to talk and I�d prefer it if you didn�t open your mouth and distract me. It�s fairly important.�

�I-fine.� His mouth clicked shut. Naruto glared silently up at Sasuke, who smirked in return.

�There. That wasn�t so difficult, was it? See?� The dark-haired boy�s leer widened and his eyes danced with amusement. �You�re cuter when you�re silent.�

In one fluid movement, Naruto swiftly kicked Sasuke in the shin and darted underneath and out from the two strapping appendages locking him in place. But, before he could successfully stand up and skirt away, a hand latched unto his arm which unbalanced his squatting legs and his rear end plopped hard against the floor. More of the building�s frantic seeds sailed softly down through the air and landed in his eyes.

----But none of this seemed to register to Naruto at the moment. The only thing his mind could fixate on was the wan hand that was wrapped firmly around his own bare arm. It felt like the boy�s hand was extremely hot, as if his fingers were the coiling, orange wires on a sizzling stove. But it was not an unpleasant heat, for the warmth quickly perused his brain, boiling it until nothing seemed to matter anymore�the fact he had failed his assignment, the fact he was supposed to be home forty minutes ago, the fact Iruka was going to slaughter him, the fact he was currently in the presence of a dangerous pervert and his chastity was in terrible peril�nothing seemed strong enough to dig into his mind anymore. Everything was hazy and furry�the world that had beat him and pushed him around, was now petting and cooing him into a sweet, afternoon nap. He was a pure entity and the parasites scattered on his skin were withering up and falling off completely. Hazily, he glimpsed back at the widened black eyes that were staring strangely at him, as if they were veiling a particularly intense thought.

Then the hand drew back and reality and the way of the world slapped him across the face like a frozen, soggy fish. Quickly, he examined his arm and found to be just as it had always been, puny and tan. Glancing back and forth from his rather normal limb and Sasuke�s pale hand, he queried rather breathlessly, �What the hell was that?�

�What I was attempting to tell you about.� Sasuke affirmed, rubbing his hand reflexively. He glared sullenly at Naruto, his black eyes molding into two polished globs of marble.

�We are cursed.�

�Do what?�

Rubbing the skin at the bridge of his nose, he elaborated further in a very uninterested voice. �Cursed. You know, damned to be together for all of eternity.�

�Eternity?!� Naruto cried, bolting up right, but the rickety floor seemed to have finally had enough of the constant movement and weight upon its long forgotten supports and suddenly, it gave way, propelling his left leg downwards into a splintery gap. A biting pain seized his calf muscle as he frantically tried to wiggle his trapped limb out.

�Owww, damn it all, fuc�� (Naruto�s mouth proceeded to form quite a mammoth quantity of curse words, some so novel they weren�t even present in the dictionary yet.) ��three-armed-gypsy-fuck�.Oh hell,� He gave it another pathetic jiggle. �It�s stuck.�

A wide-eyed, but nonetheless impressed, Sasuke made to help him out of his current situation, but Naruto viciously shook his head and reared back from him on his hands.

�I don�t need your help.� He asserted purposefully, his claim based more on fear than an obstinate independence. He didn�t know this boy at all; he had already randomly thieved his third kiss (his first being in second grade and the second being more�recent) and also had taken to voicing very inappropriate things. The entire situation made him exceedingly nervous and he rather wished that Sasuke would fall through an even larger hole than Naruto did, break his pretty (what?) head open and lay unconscious several floors underneath him for five hours while he carefully plucked himself out of the floor and bolted.

Sasuke responded with a snort and kneeled inches from his fastened figure. Really, what was it with these space issues? Didn�t this guy understand common decency entailed a standard of at least eight inches of room between two people at any given time?

�Then, pray tell, just how are you planning on getting out of there?�

Naruto glared hotly, glanced downward at his thigh that was beginning to tingle unpleasantly, and then mumbled. �I�ll bite my leg off if I need to.�

Sasuke stood up and leaned against a stripped, wooden column with his arms wound around each other. He stared intently at Naruto, who found it difficult to concentrate on wiggling out of this mess with the glossy black pupils sizing him up.

�What?� He finally asked irately after minutes of the pointed gazing. Sasuke smirked.

�You�re amusing.�

�Woopde, jackass.� Naruto huffed. �I�m glad you find my leg being stuck in the floor of a crack house so very funny. You know? I know just the kind of thing that would make you laugh. How about I punch your face in? Then we can share some more giggles together.�

Sasuke�s leer only elongated. The animal inside him began to growl with distaste as he glowered at the supercilious boy.

�I don�t like you.� He hissed, as a splinter of wood pierced his knee. Groaning in pain, he attempted to shift his thigh once more. There seemed to be a sharp piece of wood obstructing his leg�s capability of slipping out.

�Well, tough. We�re stuck.� Sasuke said, emphasizing his last word sardonically.

For several unbearable minutes, Naruto wiggled and jiggled his leg, biting his lip with the needle-like pain the wood fragments were dealing to his thigh. After one particularly strong budge, he yelped as he felt a great portion jab through his pants and straight into his knee. A rush of tears overtook the back of his eyes. He shut them quickly, damming the stream that was pleading to fall.

In his agony muddled mind, he heard soft footsteps vibrate the shaky floor around him. Hesitantly, he looked up and peered into the kneeling boy�s dark eyes drawn with gentle lines. He outstretched his hand, which seemed too pale and cool to be situated in the fading orange sunlight that fastened to the stripped walls and the side of Sasuke�s face which seemed to kindle a pleasant red fire in his right eye. The only object in the room that did not seem to hot to touch was his pallid, waiting hand.

�Here, give me your hand.�

�I told you I don�t need your help; I can get out of this just fine.�

Sasuke snickered, but it was surprisingly not demeaning. It seemed more light and fluffy�needless, but yearned for.

�Don�t be stubborn.� His smile was soft, almost tentative, as if he was afraid that Naruto would mock his tenderness. Naruto felt stricken with the vulnerable curve of his lips and he couldn�t help but openly gape at this thin, tiny hint of something not perverted, not insane, not crack-addicted lurking behind this man�s ashen, concentrated face.

�I won�t hurt you.� He promised lightly, his smile evening out into a displeased frown. He almost looked disappointed at Naruto�s silence. The animal inside him stopped growling and hesitantly emerged from the corner. Slowly, Naruto lifted his hand and placed it gently into Sasuke�s own, whose fingers softly wrapped around his skin.

Abruptly, he was enveloped by the mind-numbing, hazy hot sensation that ripped away all lingering hints of logic, but it was not unpleasant in the least. His head may have felt like it was filled to the rim with sweet butter cream icing, but he did not dislike the light-headed delirium it instilled. And also, things were no longer blobs of color as they were last time�everything was clear and defined, just a bit misty around the edges. Actually, this time, Naruto registered that Sasuke had tugged on his hand to find him more stuck then he must�ve initially thought. He had then kneeled down and put his arms around his waist, the warmth flinging chills up his neck, and jerked him gently up and out.

Naruto stood waveringly on his feet, feeling the heated disorientation leaking out of his ears. Sasuke�s arms remained around his waist and Naruto was sure if he hadn�t of been drowning in a foggy heat only moments ago, that he would be horrified to find his own arms around the pale boy�s neck. Their eyes were connected and he couldn�t advert them even if he wanted too. It was like a splotch of gum on a sidewalk in the middle of June, impossible to separate.

Languidly, Sasuke drew back, his hands softly tracing the fabric of Naruto�s shirt, and turned away. Releasing a breath that had been dutifully clinging to his ribcage, he straightened up slightly and stared wildly at the black tuft of hair and the thin, white neck facing him.

�..Was that�?�

�Yes.� Sasuke muttered breathlessly.

�Why does it�do we�feel that way?�

Sasuke slowly turned around and Naruto noted heatedly that he appeared more composed than himself. The leer on his face was reminiscent of the smug curl that had enveloped his lips earlier, before he began leaking bits and pieces of his secret self. Naruto wondered offhandedly if he had multiple personalities or just severe issues with his self-confidence.

�I�ll explain it later.� Sasuke hastily peered over his shoulder as if expecting someone to un-expectantly barge in behind him. �But, for now, we have perhaps a crack-addicted guest, so I�m going to take my leave.�

�WHAT? What do you mean by��

The sound of swift footsteps racing up the stairs under the unstable room interrupted him. The building shuddered with the hard, quick steps and dust and grime billowed down from the ceiling, settling all over Naruto�s face.

�I�ll see you tonight, Naruto.� Sasuke grinned, turning around and bestowing him with the same flippant wave he had dealt a week ago in the closet. He was about to howl a horde of not-so-nice words when a speck of filth lodged in his eyes, and after just mere seconds digging to retrieve it with his pinky, he blinked and looked up. Sasuke had already disappeared.

�Naruto!�

A familiar voice erupted in the frenzied moment. Naruto spun around and found himself facing a bedraggled, panting Shikamaru. The blonde squirmed when he was instilled with a livid glare.

�Shikamaru?� He said quizzically. Immediately, Naruto�s demeanor brightened considerably. �Hey! Where have you been? You haven�t been to school--�

�Just what the hell do you think you are doing here?�

Naruto cringed at his irate tone. Shikamaru was, for the most part, a very laid back guy who let everything short of murder slide off of him like he was linoleum. He had only seen him really enraged twice, and both of those ghastly times, the fury had never been solely directed at him. The gleam in his friend�s typically serene brown eyes was intense and furious, even murderous.

�Oh um,� Naruto began, trying desperately to keep his voice from squeaking out of his larynx weakly. He had always had a habit of speaking rather high and soft when he was nervous or frightened. �Well, you see Shikamaru�Lately I�ve just been feeling so crappy and I had to do something so I got a pack of cigarettes and came up here and um�.� He trailed off as Shikamaru�s eyes seemed to narrow a perilous centimeter with every word.

�I thought I told you to stay out of this place because it�s dangerous.� Although he spoke evenly, Naruto could feel the rage wafting of his words like a strong breeze. He knew better than to mouth off to Shikamaru at a time like this, but his careless, fumbling lips could not bear to be inert for so long.

�So?� He retorted. �You�re not my guardian.�

Shikamaru�s glower intensified greatly as an unreadable emotion coursed through his brown eyes. �In retrospect, I�m one of them.�

�Whatever�I can do what I want anytime I��

�Who was with you?�

Naruto�s hand jerked as he stared blankly at Shikamaru . Had he seen Sasuke? �no one.�

His friend took a hazardous step forward. �I saw somebody through the window form the street and I�d like to know who it was.�

�There was no one there.� He anxiously chewed on the fingernail on his thumb. �Really�nobody.�

Suddenly, Shikamaru snapped and angrily stomped forward, the structure quivering as he did so, and latched unto Naruto�s hand. He forcefully led him out of the room. Hobbling clumsily behind him, he began to whine stridently.

�What are you doing?� Naruto howled crossly, twisting his wrist in his friend�s frighteningly sturdy clutch. �Where are we going?!�

�You were grounded.� Shikamaru stated plainly as he vehemently escorted him down the creaking stairs. The blonde had no other choice but to follow awkwardly behind him.

�And I�m telling Iruka.�

Naruto�s jaw snapped open as he stared aghast at the bobbing, black ponytail, swinging furiously with his traitorous steps.

-----------------------------------

It had been the worst row with Iruka he had ever had.

�I told you never to go into that place again!�

�But Iruka��

�It�s dangerous! Do you know how many people are killed there every month? At least fifteen.�

�Iruka, please! That�s a huge exaggeration!�

�They�re drug addicts, Naruto! Honestly, you would think you would at least know better than that!�

�I DO know better, but you won�t listen��

�There�s no excuse for this! You�re grades are dropping and you�re hiding in dodgy places like this! Are you on drugs? Is that what this is?�

�I�m not on drugs, please Iruka��

�I didn�t raise you to��

�YOU DIDN�T RAISE ME AT ALL!�

Silence. Still and glassy, slick and sharp.

��How dare you, Naruto. I�m the closest thing to a father you�ve ever had.�

�But you�re not him! YOU�RE NOT HIM!�

�I might as well be. I have legal custody over you! I�m the only thing that has kept you from becoming like the rest of those urchins at that foster home! And just where are they, hm Naruto? How�s that old friend of yours Haku?�

A whisper, scarely alive, trailing the floor shamefully.

��I dunno��

�You know very well where he is! He�s a fucking prostitute! A drug addict! Kicked out of school for indecent behavior! He lives in a box, Naruto. A box. �

��He was always weird like that though��

�So where are the rest of them, hm? There were 10 of you! Two dead, Three in jail, five deal drugs and sell themselves to any fucking pervert that will give them a nickel, and then there�s you. Where do you fit in?�

�SO WHAT? So what if they�re all messed up now! That doesn�t mean I am! IT DOESN�T MEAN I�LL BE SCREWED UP BECAUSE THEY WERE!�

�But it doesn�t imply that you won�t either.�

�FINE! If I�m such a fucking hassle, I�ll leave. I�ll leave and go find Haku, and share his god dam��

The sound of flesh colliding against flesh. An inner turmoil that can only be properly depicted through the fingers.

Iruka had never hit him before. He ran into his room and shut the door.

---------------------

The midnight breeze flittered through the window in short gasps, as if the clouds were panting to keep up with the silvery light of the moon. Naruto sat at his desk underneath the great window, one hand supporting his chin and the other tapping a pencil idly against a particularly difficult math problem. Truth be told, they were all extremely hard, which was evident from the scribble marks and eraser shavings that littered the empty page. The wind emitted another quick breath through his open window and his navy curtains jumped and spasmed as its fingers combed through them.

�Ah, fuck.� Naruto finally muttered, hurling his pencil across the room. Sighing, he placed his head into his palms. He couldn�t feel anything�it was like his insides had been injected with Novocain. He understood the pain was there, he could feel it throbbing warningly underneath his thoughts, but he just couldn�t accept it right then. He just couldn�t grasp it without doing something hysterical like decimating his room or retreating somewhere to smoke a cigarette. But�it was lurking. Waiting for the proper moment to eat him up entirely.

Naruto hated feeling cornered. And that was why, when Sasuke appeared at his gasping window moments later, perched on the fire escape like a proud cat and boasting a haughty leer, he let him in. He opened the window, sighing, and allowed this man he hardly knew entry.

Because Naruto felt that this peculiar boy was cornered too.
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The flowery author�s note: MAN! These authors notes are sooo out of date. I had to delete them and it made me distraught. My entire idiot ramblings, swirling down a drain. It�s late--! I�m hungry. How do I find my reviews on this site? God�I�m computer-dumb.
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The Curse of the Red Vine Lovers