Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

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
- 2
- 3
Curse of the Red Vine Lovers

Chapter 3: Ashtray.

The absolutely thrilled author�s note: �My kitten hates me.

GAH! I keep looking at these author�s notes and thinking �did I really say/declare that to the world�? AND I�M SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I forgot all about uploading this.

You guyz, I�m sorry. I�m not from the 19th century, so I obviously have no experience in writing like they wrote. I read Dracula and several other books that were SET during the 1800s, but otherwise---this next bit is incredibly made-up and probably ALL wrong, but eh�please use your imagination. I hate1700s-1915s. I just�dunno. Imperialism and industry �what whores.

Thank you so much for your reviews everyone! I love you all so much! Buttttt, I got to go long-replying again. You guys can skip over it if you so wish�I�m sorry I took up sooo much room. Gah, I hope I�m not aggravating ya�ll (because I really know it irks me when people reply in such excruciating length).
----------------

---------

---

And ahhhhhhhhh! I love you Kang, seriously. I found out how to read my reviews on this site, so I know now how terribly I vomited your name back up. By b.

Hahaha, I wasn�t drunk---I was tipsy. A state of mind that is foggy, but still somehow capable of fueling fingers to type words that sort of/maybe/let�s hope make sense. I was far from dancing on tables topless and participating in sloppy, inebriated sex with a frat boy I don�t know. I was clear-headed enough to take responsibility for what I said.

I thought I informed you though, that these are at least a year and a half old and they don�t reflect my writing style as of now. My first semester at college has butt-fucked my work, and now I write more with a slightly immature, but incredibly hard-to-understand voice. You�d surely despise it. My protagonists are so confused with the chaotic world around them, that they portray it through their disjointed dialogue and the bizarre images that race, seemingly meaninglessly, through their head. When I try to write this story, I always revert back to this style to keep up the flow. Transitioning from 3rd person to 1st person would kill a brotha�

I do edit, but I don�t go back and re-write entire stories to keep them current with how I�ve changed. I�ll cut a word here and there, but otherwise I�d like to keep them as they are. I want to observe the road my writing takes. But, I�m a vile attention-mongrel, just like everyone else in the world. Since they�re not that terrible, I keep them posted places. People don�t seem to mind much.

Haha, inhaled profusely is an inside joke with myself made by myself, derived from several grueling hours in an over-zealous-Christian �we�re all smiles and botox here� family-get-together�without the words suck, fuck, cunt, and goddamn at the ready, I felt completely unarmed against these insane, monstrous, hyper-mutated bible-eaters. I�m not going to defend it, as it is completely unnecessary, but that�s a little personal gift for mama right there. She don�t care if she selfish�she happy.

I don�t really like Conrad. But I�m definitely not going into that. And I believe I have read that essay before in some class (or at least it seems vaguely familiar�I didn�t know it was Orwell though) but I still retain my belief that no man, no matter how high his literary/art/social/political/ intellectual status, should dictate what/how good literature/art is/should be written/drawn. The joy of the arts is that you can never be wrong. Never ever. Except in Music�but that�s just a matter of not hitting the specified note�it certainly doesn�t apply to composing it (as is exemplified by modern composers). Music is so much like math sometimes that my eyes want to explode. Rules are for math and physics (and fucking music theory)�don�t throw a canopy on the abstract. The only rules to language are grammar, and even they can be bent (i.e. capitalization in e.e. cumming�s (wooo, butchered it) work.) I enjoy criticism, but I only employ it if I find it valid.

Yes, I�m being COMPLETELY unreasonable, but once again, I�m not going to change my entire style of writing based solely on the opinion of one reviewer on an adultfiction site. And definitely not on the advice of the glorious George Orwell, the author of the one book, 1984, that I could not plow through simply because the infuriating way he wrote (Animal farm was good though). Surely you understand how completely and utterly idiotic that would be. I trust you�but seeing as I have no idea who you are, I trust my professors more�I�ve been praised and published for it (bragbragbrag). True, this isn�t an accurate representation of my sentence steroid style, but heeeeeeeeeeey.

And fyi, I never stated that the slaves were building the pyramids. I�m a huge Egyptian fanatic. I was referring to the Hebrews who were forced to make their insane quota of bricks. But that�s the wishy-washy bible knowledge for you (I could be as wrong as wrong may be)�I could even be like the people who believe the world�s 4000 years old. How absolutely sucktastic.

My favorite books are mostly all first person and written in simple, ugha-ugha-working-man language (Vonnegut �drools--). But, the books I idolize are those that consume you with words and thoughts and feelings (The house of the Spirits). I don�t believe the world is as simple as a �man whose white hands flutter down his lover�s quivering ribcage like dove�s wings�. I prefer to know the exact thoughts of the woman or the man�the feel of the little hairs on her neck, the mole lurking under her breast, the contrast of her hair and her skin---everything. I want to know and feel everything. The world is pretty fucking complicated, I prefer to show that�most of Naruto�s thoughts last a second in his head and come through involuntarily. I want them illustrated and then dissected. People aren�t that simple (or at least I hope not, because that definitely gives me no hope in the plight of people whatsoever.)

As for the globs and marbles�.Are you familiar with early Neruda? That phrase was actually written after I read his poem �Ode with a Lament� (or at least I think that�s its name. I have to go validate this sometime). He made such beautiful, surreal metaphors and it just made me gag with delight. I was trying to imitate him in a way�but I could have royally screwed that up. But hunny�I do love me some fleshy pouches. I�ve never been that sentence�s biggest fan, but I love how utterly disgusting it made my eyes feel. Like they were pussies that hid away from life.

But thank you so much for your criticism. I do completely understand where you are coming from, believe me I do. I�m not standing by my style because I�m proud -- I just don�t agree. You can laugh at my poor excuse for grammar, my random sprinkling of commas, scoff at my terrible attempts at humor or even the mostly mixed up-completely unreal characterization of Sasuke�there are tons of faults you can bring up with this story. If you�d like to scrutinize it further, please email your censures to me so that I don�t have to use a billion pages to reply, please?

______________________________________________________________________

A letter from a Mrs. Elizabeth Blackwell to a Miss. Charlotte Rumsfield. May 8th, 1848.

� Dearest sister,

I must be brief, for I fear that Richard will stroll into my room at any moment and peer over my shoulder at my hasty scrawl. I pray that you are doing well, for I am not in any place of which I can come to your immediate side if you fall ill. I do not understand this man that has bestowed me with his last name. In truth, he frightens me.

I am also very much afraid that you will not believe my far-fetched tale and write me off as mad, but you must believe me dear sister. Have these thin lips ever graced lies before?
Ever since the moment in the rose garden a month before, this Richard Blackwell has pranced behind me as if I am knitted to him with thread. He is my husband under the Lord�s eyes, yes, but I cannot bear to think of a life where I am solely his wedded wife. There is another man. There has always been another man. Richard�s secretive mercantilism tosses him into the wind and far off leaving a passionate woman alone to the dust of the manor. I am not one to settle like grime on a wardrobe.

But, ever since that moment, and please do believe me for I am not creating farces simply to frighten you, I cannot leave his side. It is the worst pain imaginable, far worse than the time I toppled down the hill beside our house and broke my arm. I am gripped by this ghostly hand and suddenly, my breath is no longer mine. My hands become cold and numb and my sweat turns to beads of ice on my brow. Every appendage turns to England in winter. I cannot move, for I turn to stone under the pain, and I fall to the floor like a cripple without a cane. And do you know what he does, youngest sister? His lips turn slimy and he smirks. He knows that the only thing that quails the pain and my quick pulse, is his touch. Without it, I�m like a fish separated from his mother the sea.

I must part with you now, sister, for I hear him marching proudly up the steps, like he is one of the Queen�s own. He knows I�m his porcelain doll, sister, that I will be here always waiting for him to take me off the shelf. I fear the next time we meet I will have glass eyes.

______________________________________

Naruto could easily determine that Sasuke was a man of silence. Even though the strange boy had spoken openly to him, he hadn�t bandied his words about pointlessly; much like the blonde did himself on any occasion he happened to open his mouth for. Every sentence seemed to have been fabricated perfectly in his mind; every verb and adjective carefully molded to portray his thoughts with startling detail. There was no question that Sasuke annunciated clearly and crisply, that his rumbling baritone gripped every word he spoke and lifted it into the air like it was a hoe in the hand of an angry farmer. His very voice clipped off extraneous meanings and flowery language�but Naruto could tell that he thrived in silence.

As soon as he had wordlessly opened the window a bit wider for Sasuke to climb through, Naruto immediately wished he hadn�t. Iruka was somewhere in the diminutive apartment, either steaming with rage or dejection, and surely if one of them spoke their voice would carry through the worn keyhole and he�d have another shouting match to look forward to. Almost as if sensing his thoughts, the dark-haired boy quietly sat among the rumpled blue sheets on his bed, the mattress wailing painfully at the arrival of the weight. He returned to his wooden, swivel chair and to the impatient math homework. For several minutes, the air in the room remained suspended in a heavy, thick silence. He spared a couple of disinterested glances over his neck at Uchiha, and was unsurprised to find him looking comfortable and completely natural in the quiet, as if it was the melody that had lolled him to sleep every night.

Naruto had never had a chance at silence. Because of the frugal plot of land the foster home resided on, his eyelids often closed to the boisterous lullaby of urgent sirens and angry car-horns. Even now, he could not sleep if there was not some sort of noise carrying on in the background. That was the purpose of the boom box sitting in the corner of his room like an old, faithful friend. If his open window did not tempt enough sound to waft through its threshold, than Naruto would flip the radio on and fall asleep to the gentle music that played on the late-night shows for people just like him; those who were addicted to noise.

�Well?� Naruto prompted after he just couldn�t bear the silence any longer (it was beginning to ring like a hundred wind-chimes in his head). He spun around in his chair to face the boy who looked so at ease, it could�ve been his room.

�I was waiting on you to initiate conversation.� Smirking, he leaned back on his hands. �It�s typically what the host does after the guest has been invited into the home.�

�Really?� Naruto stated sardonically as he deposited his elbow unto his knee, resting his head in his palm. �Where did you get that crap? An 18th century guide to etiquette?�

�A 19th century guide actually.� He retorted.

�Ha, ha, you�re hilarious. You must be a hit with all the ladies.�

Sasuke�s entire demeanor changed almost immediately as he sat up a little straighter and gazed at Naruto pensively. His black eyes seemed to plead with him to view some indescribable thought that lurked somewhere beyond the limitless pupils.

�I wasn�t joking at all.�

Noting the abrupt change, but ignoring it nonetheless, Naruto huffed and twisted around in his chair to face his unfinished homework once more.

�Whatever.� He mumbled, reaching into his desk for a fresh pencil. The sharp lead tip hovered expectantly over question three and remained still there for several moments. Just what was the cosine of 45 and how the hell was he supposed to find it? His head scolded himself for doodling stars and cat-faces all over his notebook when he was supposed to be alert and listening to the teacher. He could always call Shikamaru�.No. He was a traitorous scum bag worthy of the most bloody and brutal of deaths. Naruto ground his pencil lead into the paper just thinking about him, creating a miniscule mountain of gray dust.

�Having trouble?�

In one, glorious second, Naruto jumped ten inches out of his seat and flung his hands into the air, which hurled his pencil in a familiar trajectory across the room and straight into the wall. It lay in two pieces next to its shattered counterpart.

�No, I was just contemplating this problem, was all.� Naruto seethed through his teeth, refusing to acknowledge the face that had appeared over his shoulder. The faint smell of some foreign spice wafted just beneath his nose. It sort of made him want to sneeze.

�And has your brain conjured up something yet?� The boy�s breath trailed lazily across his ear as a hand balanced itself on the surface of the desk. Naruto really didn�t support the sudden disregard in his personal space. He couldn�t concentrate on anything but Sasuke�s long sleeves brushing up against his own. In the haze of his lingering rage, he had allowed a boy who had shown signs of a severely disturbed and perverted mind into his room�Shikamaru was right�he was stupid.

In one swift movement, Naruto slammed his notebook together and put his face into his hands. �It�s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway.�

�No it�s not.� Sasuke affirmed, crossing his arms and towering over him. �It�s one of the only tools humans possess to define the world around them.�

Naruto gaped. �That�s possibly the gayest thing I�ve ever heard.�

If there was one quality in a person Naruto just couldn�t stand it was arrogance and if there was one quality that seemed to just roll off the Uchiha, it was that. He exemplified it once more when his lips crept into a smirk.

�Don�t blame it for your in-competency.�

Naruto spun around completely to glare properly at the haughty boy.

�You know? You�re a real dick and I�m about to kick you the hell out of my room if you don�t explain some things real quick.�

Sasuke settled beside the bedraggled covers on his bed once again and looked up at him expectantly. Why was he so damn comfortable in a foreign place where he had just entered into? Not only that, Sasuke sort of seemed like the �rod-up-the-old-pucker� type who wouldn�t even set foot in a room with a pair of dirty underwear lying innocently in the floor, but here he was, navigating through the colorful puddles of wadded, filthy clothes with startling ease. He also knew about the fire escape placed underneath his window�

�Seeing as I�ve been forced to follow you the past two weeks�

He shivered.

�First off, who are you really?�

Sasuke cocked his head to the side and smirked. Suddenly, Naruto was wrestling the intense urge to rip his dumb lips off his face. �How about this�I answer a question and then you answer a question. A simple exchange, really.�

Bolting upright instantly and pointing a threatening forefinger at him, Naruto prepared to expel a lengthy list of places where Sasuke could go to when the boy lifted his pallid palm in a halting manner. �Surely even an idiot like you can understand the concept of a simple game.�

Naruto growled, but returned to his swivel chair without another word. More slander against his intelligence. Did he just scream stupidity or something? Looking endlessly pleased, Sasuke began.

�My name is Sasuke Uchiha. I was born in a small, superstitious Japanese village and I enjoy science and hot green tea.� Naruto frowned. �Now, it�s my turn. How is it that you have the looks of a foreigner but can speak Japanese fluently?�

Naruto rolled his eyes. It definitely wasn�t the first time he�d heard that. �I dunno, lucky I guess. Now what was all that messed up��

�I don�t know is not an answer.� Sasuke interrupted, peering at him sternly. Deciding to avoid another needless argument when he desperately thirsted for some answers, Naruto replied by sighing.

�I was adopted, alright? Other than that, I haven�t the foggiest. It�s my turn.�

�No, it�s not alright.� Sasuke said suddenly, his back becoming more rigid and straight. Offhandedly, Naruto noted that this seemed to be the pose the Uchiha looked most relaxed in. His shoulders carried the guarded position eagerly, as if it was the arrangement they always longed to be in.

�Are you telling me in all your seventeen��

�Sixteen,� Naruto corrected.

��Years you�ve never once asked anyone about where you came from? Are you really that dense?�

Shifting his focus unto the sock that was on his floor, Naruto smiled wistfully. �It�s not like I didn�t ask. No one knew why. Everybody at the foster home just assumed that my original family was foreign even though my given name wasn�t.�

�Why didn�t you try an archive at the library or any research of any kind?� Uchiha reproved incredulously.

�Becaaaausseee,� He whined as he leaned back in his chair until he was virtually reclining. Glancing up, he found that was fixed with a rather stern stare. He shifted his feet nervously in response.

�Because,� he began more crisply while staring at his thumbs �by the time I figured out I could actually do something like that, Iruka had adopted me.�

�So?� Sasuke prompted.

�So, It�s your turn, bastard. Unlike you, though, I answered my question completely and didn�t just say something vague and un-descriptive, like a vague and un-descriptive ass-hole. � Naruto sat forward in his chair abruptly. The legs thumped angrily against the carpet. The floor momentarily trembled.

�Why did that thing happen before?�

�Oh,� Sasuke rolled his eyes, �how very descriptive and clear.� Huffing, Naruto glowered.
�Why did I feel so�� He scoured his simple vocabulary for a proper word. Everything sounded very, very wrong. ��strange when you um��

�Touched you?� Sasuke said un-phased.

�Yeah,� His cheeks felt like two glowing eyes on a stove. �What was all that?�

Sasuke�s black eyes became suddenly distant even though he was gazing directly at Naruto. Slowly, his stare retreated upwards to a brown water stain on the ceiling.

�That is the calling of the curse.� He stated in a dull, listless tone. It was as if his voice was trying to separate itself from the subject all together. Several moments slinked by as Naruto waited patiently for more of an enlightenment than that. Seeing as Sasuke seemed almost like he was disjointed, in a separate place far from his bedroom, Naruto encouraged him.

�And?�

�And why do you cuss so much?� Sasuke�s stare fell back unto Naruto, who instantly registered that the glint that had been shadowed seconds before returned. He gaped.

�What the hell? Where�s my explanation?�

�A question for a question.� Sasuke reminded him mockingly. �Balance is what keeps this world in check.�

�That�s a load of bull shit.� Naruto mumbled. He begun rummaging through his drawer to find another pencil (the failing grade he received on yesterday�s math quiz was gnawing at the back of his mind). However, there was nothing in it but empty gum wrappers and pages to reports that he had never turned in. Whoops. That explained the 54.

Surprisingly, Naruto decided not to pursue his argument and gave in after slamming the drawer shut and reaching for another. This one concealed several other previous math assignments that had never found their way into his book-bag. Most every problem was blank and answerless, save for #34 which had been completed by messy scrawl that stated �this sux�.

�I cuss because I�m good at it.�

Sasuke blinked. �That doesn�t make any sense.�

Naruto clicked his tongue. This drawer was devoid of pencils too. Closing it, he moved on to the last one to his right. �It�s just something I�ve picked up, but I�m not really supposed to.�

�So you do it because you�re not allowed?�

�Iruka hates cussing.� Naruto declared absentmindedly as he tossed papers aside to dig deeper into the compartment. This drawer, being the widest and deepest of the others, lodged the science assignments he never even attempted. It was filled to the brim with documents and half-finished essays. Iruka always cleaned his room after it became too chaotic. Whenever he peaked into his desk and into the drawers teeming with half-finished work, he always bitched for several agonizing hours, referring to his table as �the desk of secret failures�. Naruto did not prefer the little nickname.

�He only cusses when he�s really angry.� A quick rush of pain seized his gut as he thought back to his feud with Iruka earlier when the kind-hearted man had hollered �fuck�. The word seemed treacherous and sharp in his mouth, almost like he had been spitting needles. �And he doesn�t like it when I say the �f� word.�

Ah yes! Sweet fate was his! Beneath the 12 inch thick stack of papers, a single eraser-less pencil lurked. He grabbed it at once and then straightened up.

�Actually, he doesn�t like it when I say the �s� word either�or the �a� word.� Naruto cast a reflective glance at the pencil laying in his palm. �But, the one word I�m absolutely not allowed to say is bastard.�

�Why is that?�

The hand around the pencil enclosed. �Because he doesn�t want me thinking about things like that. He thinks that if I think about that word long enough, I�ll label myself it and become lost like everybody else did.�

�Because you�re adopted?�

�Yeah, I guess.� Naruto muttered, his hand reaching to re-open his folder when a realization overtook him.

�Hey! You cheated!�

�Did I?� Sasuke queried sarcastically as he leaned back on his palms. How could he be so damn comfortable in his cluttered and quite disorganized room? Even Iruka had difficulty sitting in it for too long. �I merely kept asking you questions and you kept answering. If you had had a problem with it, you should�ve said so.�

Suddenly, Naruto felt very weary, as if he�d been awake for several days. �Whatever.� He diverted his full, but tired, attention on the exhausting black-haired boy.

�So, what is a �curse�s calling� thing?�

Sasuke�s smirk inched into an irritated frown, as if all his jovial fun was spoiled by the blonde�s fatigue. �To explain that idiotically worded question, I have to explain the very nature of a curse to you.�

�Sooo, do it.�

A hand raked through his hair idly as he sighed. �It�s not that simple. It took me years of studying to fully understand the complexity and depth of a curse�s power. You would have to understand the very biochemical makeup of your body and the different simple and complex molecules that make up your DNA. Every proton and neutron, no matter how small, is significant.�

�Whoa, whoa whoa,� Naruto exclaimed, flabbergasted. �That�s science! Aren�t curses like�magic-ish?�

The starless eyes stared evenly at him. �Magic is a science, don�t let anyone tell you otherwise.�

Excitement boiled in his stomach as all pervious traces of sleepiness flaked off him like dry mud. Growing up in such dismal conditions, Naruto had clung frantically to fairy-tales and make-believe stories which promptly delivered him into alternate worlds where he wasn�t an orphan with no friends or family to support him�he was the magical hero who saved the princess and was knighted by the king. Sometimes, at night, he would pretend he was the king�s son who had been sent away to live with mortals because of the numerous threats on his life. He would say �he�ll come for me in the morning. He�ll come to get me�, but when the sun threw its heartless light through the blinds, Naruto was always alone. He had long since relinquished his belief in magic, but just hearing someone identify it in a sentence made the same hope he felt in the twilight hours of his childhood flood through his body once more.

�You mean like spells and incantations and crap like that?� Naruto questioned eagerly. �That stuff actually exists?�

�Sure.� Sasuke said. �Why wouldn�t they?�

�Because�well, there�s no evidence. Everything can be explained already and stuff that�s magical just goes �poof� and it�s there.�

Rolling his eyes and sighing, an infamous partnership that seemed to act perfectly on his face, Sasuke stood up and crossed his arms.

�I guess I forgot how truly moronic sleepers can be.�

�Sleepers?� Naruto interrupted, his face exhibiting his puzzlement. Was he supposed to know what that meant?

It was the black-haired boy�s turn to look tired and exasperated, as if all his energy drained from his mouth as he talked. Naruto sensed that he was ready to thrive in silence again; to hear the nothing jingle in his ear once more.

�Sleepers are people like you who have no connection to the hidden villages.� Sasuke explained dully. �They live inside the natural laws of physics and do not wish to have it otherwise.�

�What do you mean natural laws?�

�Na uh, Naruto.� Sasuke said. �It�s my turn for a question.�

�Are we still playing that?!� Naruto cried, gesticulating angrily.

�Yes, we are. Who is the man you live with?�

�Iruka Umino, a 3rd grade teacher on weekdays and a flower-shop attendant on weekends.� He said quickly as he sat up taller. �Now, what do you mean by �inside� the natural laws?�

�Magic is anything that exists outside the natural laws of your sleeper life.� Sasuke said, as he inspected a blob of hardened clay on his bed side table that was supposed to be an ashtray. Iruka had laughed continuously for five hours after Naruto had presented it to him after art class, claiming it looked more like horse crap than something to put cigarette ashes in. But Iruka had displayed it proudly in the living room for months until Naruto learned how to actually make the clay concave. He switched it with a more bowl-like ashtray a year before.

�And no, it doesn�t make things go �poof� and appear instantly. There is a considerable amount of energy spent, the electrons must be properly rearranged.� Sasuke clarified as he placed the hard, brown splotch back unto the table gently. His eyebrows furrowed. �Really, it�s hard to define to a sleeper. Most everything in the hidden villages is in some way enchanted. The people, the animals, the plants, the sculptures, the street, even the pub which sings you Christmas songs when you enter it.�

Naruto�s eyes were wide and glittering with amazement. Sasuke glanced over at the blonde, but quickly looked away, his dark eyebrows knitting closer together. �Everything there can cast magic or has had magic worked upon it.�

A thousand questions tingled on the tip of his tongue, but the blonde remained silent , raring to answer whatever Uchiha queried. He was bubbling in his chair.

�How long have you lived with him?�

�Six and a half years.� Naruto uttered rapidly. �How do you cast magic?�

The expression on Sasuke�s face was bewildering as he surveyed the room. He looked like he was deeply dismayed as he stared at the two gleaming soccer trophies in the corner and the huge posters that displayed his favorite bands on the walls and the detailed picture of a cat tacked to a bulletin board that Shikamaru had illustrated for him.

�You�re just a normal boy, aren�t you?� His voice was muffled into a whisper and it was seemingly absorbed by the globs of dirty clothes on the floor. Naruto gazed at him quizzically.

�Sorry, what was your question?� Naruto repeated it slowly. � Oh yeah, well most people are just born with the ability to shape and mold bits of viridis to their pleasing��

�Viridis?�

Sasuke�s features attempted a smirk, but he seemed too troubled to complete it properly. �You�re asking out of turn. It means green in Latin. It�s the supposed life-force that unites us and began the cycle that replicated our DNA for the first time blah-blah, you wouldn�t understand any of it even if I watered it down to its bare essentials. Also, parts of it are mysteries in itself. Now may I get back to the original question at hand?�

Naruto nodded eagerly. Appearing to be at his zenith of sadness, he plopped back unto the bed. He seemed much older with the haughty spark nestled in the corner of his eye extinguished; almost ancient.

�Well, all you really need to know about any of this, is that there are spells, there are enchantments, there are charms and then� then there are curses. Everything falls under the four categories�everything.�

His eyes looked like smooth, black marbles as they regarded him. Naruto shifted anxiously in his chair as the gaze struck him. Silence drenched the room with a waiting, hungry air, pleading that somebody�s voice box would echo a word or two for it to devour. The frown on Sasuke�s face deepened until it appeared artlessly gouged by a jagged knife.

�You and I, Naruto,� he declared pensively, �are cursed.�

Naruto couldn�t remember whose turn it was to ask a question, but the atmosphere didn�t seem to desire frivolous, light games to filter through its heavy thickness. Sasuke must�ve remembered, for he spoke again seconds later.

�Do you love Uminio Iruka?� He requested very, very quietly. His words were almost lost to the sound of a speeding car beneath the window and they sounded very much like they would rather be frolicking outside in the busy, colorful world than inside the bedroom where they were easily scrutinized. But, the room was pleading for some sweet noise to rip its quiet haze away.

�Of course, why wouldn�t I?� The solemn air had converted Naruto�s own voice into a soft, hesitant alto. He couldn�t exactly remember a time that his larynx tenderly restricted his voice and the sentences he tactlessly hurled out. He was normally just so�loud.

�Because one day you will have to leave him.� Sasuke�s eyes drifted over to his cow-manure/ashtray sculpture sitting on his bedside table. �And that day will be very soon.�

�Wh-what�s that supposed to mean?�

�We�re cursed.� He reiterated.

�You keep saying that like it�s supposed to mean something to me!� Naruto�s voice was steadily developing into its shrill pitch again. Sasuke retained eye-contact even though he appeared as though he was reluctant to do so.

�There is a curse on both of us �His eyes were glossy and their jet black hue seemed more profound. �That ties our very souls together so incredibly tight that our bodies have difficulty distinguishing between them.�

�But, how?�

Sasuke�s gaze discovered the moldy water stain on his ceiling again. �Simply put, someone cursed me a long time ago with an incantation that linked our souls together. Running into you the other day activated it.�

�Me?� Naruto felt like he was on stage with a sweltering spot-light fixed on him. His thumb followed the familiar trail to his mouth and he began to gnaw on the nail. �Why me?�

Sasuke snorted humorously. �I wonder that too.�

Another quiet moment swallowed the room whole. Naruto felt like someone was trying to squeeze a twelve pound bag of potatoes through his ear. The information just wouldn�t process properly because he just couldn�t comprehend it�it just seemed like a pile of bad fiction. Sasuke looked as though he took the wordless moments to recuperate.

�What did you mean by �I�ll have to leave him�? I�m not going to leave Iruka any time soon.�

Sasuke�s eyes morphed into the black ice splayed over the roadways in December. They traveled slowly down from the ceiling and landed firmly on the rigid blonde, who squirmed.

�I can�t stay here for too long. My existence has put your�s in danger and therefore your loved ones as well. You�ll have to come with me.�

�Bullshit!� Naruto howled, his voice rising into strident, ear-splitting decibels. �Why would I go with you?�

The dark eyes narrowed and hardened, the thick ice veiled all emotion.

�You won�t have much of a choice in the matter.�

Instantly, Naruto leapt out of his chair. What the hell was this man saying? That he was going to kidnap him?

�You can�t make me do a damn thing. I�ll call the police on you and tell them that I�m being stalked by a pervert who plans on kidnapping me and--and you�ll be thrown in jail so fast your head will spin.�

Sasuke shook his head calmly. �If it was up to me, I�d leave you here and pretend we never met.� His words slightly stung Naruto, almost like the sensation of salt sneaking into a hang nail. Even though he clearly didn�t like the dark-haired boy, having anyone annunciate their honest dislike for him made him feel kind of like a social urchin.

�But, the curse that binds us has other plans.�

�What?� The blonde lost him somewhere. The curse has plans? Since when did inorganic energy/magical-things have a dictated schedule?

�The curse that is acting upon us right now has a set perimeter that limits our movement from each other. It has restrictions fastening us together permanently mentally and physically.�

�Meaning?� Naruto drawled hotly.

�We�re stuck.� Sasuke stated simply. �If one of us goes to far from the other, they�ll feel unbearable pain, thus crippling them and disallowing any more movement.�

...Seeing as I�ve been forced to follow you for the past two weeks�

Naruto�s eyes narrowed distrustfully. �Then how come I haven�t spotted you since that time before?�

Uchiha rolled his eyes. �I�m very sneaky and even if I wasn�t, I would have never caught your attention�you were always too busy talking to yourself and moaning about something or other.�

�And just how do you know you feel pain if we try and separate?�

Black eyes darkened until they manifested the appearance of two bottomless holes. Sasuke�s face was as smooth as hard alabaster.

�I tried to get away.� He stated simply.

Another moment of quiet reflection singed the tops of their heads as a boisterous, drunk couple passed underneath the window. The cogs in Naruto�s brain began to clink and turn as he sat completely and utterly still in his chair. Is this bullshit? He barely moved or breathed for fear of breaking the fragile, frightened silence hovering like a ghost through his bedroom.

He never had a chance at silence. It�s bullshit.

A sudden anger ripped through him, and he calmly rose from the chair.

�You know what I think?�

Sasuke was silent.

�I think you�re dicking with me.� The blonde verified coolly, hoping that he appeared very forceful and domineering with his arms crossed. Sasuke looked un-pleased.

�I wish I was,� he murmured. �But I assure you I�m not.�

�I don�t believe you.�

�I don�t think it matters whether you believe it or not.� Sasuke said flatly. �It still exists and whether you choose to accept it is your own business entirely.�

A flicker of fear flared through him as he felt his confident demeanor shatter all around him. Instinctively, his foot trailed backwards.

�You�re insane!�

�No, no,� Sasuke confirmed lightly with a slight smile as if it was all a joke. Catching the frightened expression displayed on the blonde�s face, however, his grin faltered. �You can�t be serious.� He drew up from the bed and stepped forward, extending his arm to make some sort of contact with him, �Naruto, I�m completely sane��

�Get away from me!� Naruto cried, feeling hopelessly pinned by the desk of secret failures behind him. He didn�t much care if Iruka heard him anymore; his voice far exceeded its standard �in-door� volume. Sasuke seemed to of noticed this too, for his features looked slightly panicked.

�Be quiet! Do you want to get me caught?�

Verrrry dumb question. �I�m warning you, if you don�t leave now�I�ll scream my lungs out.�

Sasuke thieved another cautious step forward and the blonde felt his back arch painfully against the hard side of the desk trying to retain the distance.

�Don�t be stupid. I�m not going to hurt you at all.�

�I definitely do not care. Get. Out.�

Sasuke was defiling the space slowly, but surely. Naruto felt like the animal trapped inside his stomach, cornered with no where to run. Sasuke�s arm was still extended, as if he was trying to calm a bucking horse.

�What did I do to scare you?�

�Well, for one, you keep putting me into very very awkward situations.�

�Like what?�

�You kissed me!�

Sasuke shook his head. �No, that is how the curse awakens. So, technically, I didn�t kiss you, the curse did.�

�You stalked me!�

�Unwillingly.�

�You were hanging out in a crack-house!�

�So were you.�

The distance between the two could now be measured in inches. Naruto�s quick breath glided uncertainly off his hot lips. The extended hand reached forward in an attempt to invoke something�anything that would calm his frantic conduct. He grimaced. The last thing he needed to feel was that blinding, hazy-hot delirium ransack his organized mind. He needed control in this situation�precise control.

�DON�T TOUCH ME!�

�Naruto!� A worried voice called through the door, but the two bodies inside we�re too preoccupied to hear it. In just one, transient second, Sasuke had moved as if graced with blinding speed, and had successfully pinned Naruto to the desk, a hand planted tightly against his lips. The blonde barely had time to register just what was going on as his face was suddenly crushed by the top of his table and strapping fingers strangled his jaw. The warm, fuzzy fever began to seep off the pale boy�s relatively cool hand and Naruto was once again gripped by the phantasmagoria.

((finally, I�ve snuck that word in somewhere. Horah.))

�Naruto!� A heavy knock rattled the door. Naruto struggled but Sasuke�s grip was like frigid iron. �What�s wrong? Is there somebody in there with you?�

Come in, Iruka! He thought frantically, his muddled mind becoming more muddy and murky with every passing moment. Use the key! He�s going to kidnap me and take me away from you!

�Naruto!� Another set of loud rapping. �Answer me!�

Naruto felt like his brain was crumbling away to bits about him, his logic and his ability to think and understand situations was gently fluttering to the ground. He had to think�how do you keep yourself from being kidnapped by scary perverts?

He remembered, as if in a past life, fragments of a memory where he and Shikamaru had been sitting at school discussing what to do if someone tried to mug him. Being hopelessly clumsy, Shikamaru had warned him that fighting with fists would only end badly for him�he was supposed to do something else.

Iruka please open the door! He silently pleaded as his body began to respond to the delirium as well. His knees felt feeble and close to buckling and his head felt too heavy to lift anymore. What the hell was happening to him? What was going on?

All this thoughts didn�t follow a rational pattern anymore�what was he supposed to do in this situation?

�Fine, Naruto.� A quiet voice murmured behind the door. �I understand.�

No! Iruka! His brain was bubbling over, his limbs were beginning to feel like heated putty, and his thighs were shaking with his weight. He was steadily losing control of his mind; it seemed like it was drifting off into a dark, unlabeled sea.

I guess this is what it feels like to go nuts� His head scrounged up the thought with great difficulty. He didn�t even know why he had pondered it. Wait�nuts!

The word sang gloriously through his head as he remembered just what Shikamaru had advised him to do.

Concentrating all his remaining strength to his legs, Naruto delivered a swift, hard kick to a said kidnapper�s balls, and wobbling slightly, leapt up onto the desk and gracelessly climbed out the window. He navigated clumsily down the fire escape and the wobbly, rusty ladder. Faintly, he heard someone shout his name, but he didn�t even turn his head. His feet carried him forward at a hasty speed as he passed the entrance to the apartment building, than the dark, musty mouth of the alley where he dumped the trash on Tuesdays, then the intersection with the shattered street light and then�

Suddenly, he crumpled to the sidewalk. A powerful, horrible pain fired through every artery, vein, capillary, nerve�any place where his blood dwelled burned and bubbled. His belly began to twist and churn, his very guts felt like they were strangling his vital organs. Every joint in his body seemed drenched in sand, so that every convulsion grinded into his bones and ligaments, seemingly wrenching them apart and then shredding them to indistinguishable bits. His skin was blazing, every pore spouting fire, but he could not get warm. Shivers racked his body and a frigid sweat leaked down the side of his neck. He could not even hug himself for warmth; every movement tossed his brain into spasms of unbearable pain. His temperature had to be well below zero, but his skin was so hot! It seemed where the heat and the cold intertwined, another pain was established, this one much like dipping ones hand into broiling water and then hurriedly plunging it into ice, only all over the body. Naruto gasped for air, but his lungs could not retain any oxygen. Every breath rattled and growled in his chest and no relief was to be had. Was it even his breath? It didn�t feel like it.

And at bottom of it all, there was an undeniable fear that this was death�that Naruto Uzumaki, the short, blonde haired flunkie, was about to die and leave everyone he loved behind. His heart beat irregularly as the fear consumed his chest. N-no, please god, no!

�It�s the most horrible pain that can be realized.� A composed voice abruptly soothed over Naruto�s chaos and there was a slight reprieve in the intensity of pain.

�Please�� Naruto mumbled, his lips like swollen, burning pipes, sputtering disgusting cargo. ��Please�Help�Come�Please��

�Yes, the only thing that can cure it is my touch.� Every syllable seemed to gently wipe the searing pain in his abdomen away. It returned with a dastardly force in the quiet between words.

�Help...� He had no idea where the breath was coming from, how his brain wasn�t starving and frittering away into trash.

�When I mentioned we we�re cursed earlier, you said �you keep saying that like it�s supposed to mean something to me.�� That rumbling voice, he recognized it vaguely as Sasuke�s, but any other thought pertaining to the boy was lost to the severe hurting that had enveloped his entire essence.

�It means we�re bonded, or rather, stuck together, Naruto.� The voice flittered softly into the quaking blonde�s ear. It was closer, Sasuke was closer�and the pain was lessening, but the chills would not subside.

�It means wherever I go, you have to follow, likewise for me as well.�

A tepid hand suddenly rested against his cheek and instantly the tremendous pain evaporated, leaving behind only a dull, throbbing ache and a terrible, empty coldness.

�That�s the nature of a curse.�

He was vaguely aware he was picked up and slung tenderly over a shoulder. The pain and panic had left his mind in jumbled leaflets that contained no words that made any sense. He was vaguely aware that he was being carried back down the street he sprinted across just minutes before, the rhythm of the stride gutted his brain and created an even harsher pounding. He was vaguely aware the person holding him tightly climbed a ladder, almost effortlessly with the added weight and then softly laid him down on a bed. But, when the warm hands left his fevered body, a reminiscent pain soared through his stomach and Naruto�s eyes opened abruptly.

�Please!� He cried frantically, wincing as he seized the soothing hand that had left his burning limbs. �Don�t leave me!� It stung to speak, stung to move or breathe. Naruto�s eyes slammed shut as the pain vehemently crushed his body again.

Sasuke stood over him, his eyes traced with sad, drooping lines. His frown deepened as he sighed and reclined next to the shuddering boy, who immediately latched unto him around the waist and slammed his sweaty, florid face against the cool fabric of his shirt. Tentatively, Sasuke�s arms enclosed around him.

�It�s cold,� the fever-induced boy mumbled, tears hugging the corners of his eyes. His grip became tighter around Sasuke�s waist. �It�s so cold��

�I know.� Sasuke declared softly, his fingers hesitantly crawling through Naruto�s untidy locks. �I know.�

________________________________________

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

The sun threw its heartless light through the blinds that morning as Naruto crawled out of bed gingerly. Every muscle felt tight and over-used, as if he had run a 15 mile marathon the night before. His vision was blurry and the world appeared unreal, like he was looking through a stale, foggy glass. He was still cold and was tempted to throw his comforter over his shoulders had he been able to bend without feeling a tremor spin up and down his spine. The bed was bedraggled and empty. Sasuke had left, but not truly gone anywhere. He was around, he had to be. Just--- lurking out of sight.

Naruto unlocked his door and hobbled into the kitchen/living area where he found Iruka staring vacantly at a steaming black cup of coffee at the dinner table. His guardian raised his head at his soft footsteps bounded off the frugal linoleum . Naruto felt a flare of sadness as he gazed into the bloodshot eyes that were laced with pink, puffy skin.

�Oh, Naruto,� Iruka sobbed quietly, his hands reaching around his surrogate child�s waist and pulling him in close. His tears produced wet streaks on Naruto�s t-shirt and he felt ever colder than before. He returned the embrace.

�I�m sorry,� his guardian bawled, �so, so sorry.�

Naruto gently rest his hand into Iruka�s tussled hair. �It�s okay.�

The sun hurled another lifeless ray through a crinkled blind and it caught the glossy surface of Naruto�s new, concave ashtray, which gleamed mockingly on the coffee table. It�s brown, lumpy body winked at him.

�It�s going to be okay.�

___________________________________________________

The-end-of-the-22-page-crap-authors-note:

You�re all such lovely, wonderful people! I'm sorry about last chapter too...I don't know why my lines didn't work....Everything looks so....haphazard.
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Curse of the Red Vine Lovers