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Burning Leaves	By : lyarrah Category: Naruto AU/AR > General Views: 1147 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters aren't mine, not making any money off of this. Plagerize me and I'll bite you, though.

Chapter List
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Finally getting my lazy ass to post this here. I don't know that
it'll ever canon-ly have material that truly needs to be on AFF, but
honestly it's getting there so I might as well. If you're just
looking for PWP, this isn't your place – I've got a couple
things that are nearly that floating around, but this ain't it.

Anyway... I've been having a time and a half trying to write on
Habits or really anything, including this, so forgive me if I'm a
little slow. I'm doing my best to make each chapter worth the wait,
though.

I'm normally quite against AUs, but this story begged to be
written. I think you'll find all the characters you know and love,
along with some you hate, intact aside from the whole “ninja”
part.

Burning Leaves

Everything else in the world seemed silent compared to the roar of
twin engines as they swung down the road, hugging the mountain
curves. Both vehicles were jet black to blend into the night, but
each bore it's own identifier on the hood; one a trio of red swirls,
the other a classic yin-yang. Aside from those emblems, the cars were
all but the same inside and out, from the model to the tires to the
horsepower. Even the two drivers were alike: both men were calm,
cool, collected men, barely over twenty, their long hair pulled back
in ponytails.

The only reason she cared who would win that night was because one
was her brother, and the other was not.

That night, though, everyone would lose.

What happened was unclear; perhaps it was as simple as a blown
tire, or maybe their brakes finally gave way after ages of abuse,
despite their loyal maintenance. Certainly, it couldn't have been
error on the part of either man, as both had been driving - and
racing - longer than legally possible.

Cause aside, the effect was simple, obvious, and horrifying. One
second the white was trying to pass the red at a turn, their side
mirrors just inches apart. The next, both had launched off the cliff,
tearing straight through the guardrail.

If there was a boom when the cars hit the river thirty feet below,
she never heard it. Her own terrified voice overwhelmed everything
else, echoing through the December air:

"NEJI!"

The scene, that night, everything was gone, replaced by
pale walls and the backlit outline of a window. Only her scream
remained, and the pain in her heart as she shivered, struggling to
catch her breath.

Wordlessly, a pair of arms wrapped around her, pulling her into
their owner's warm, strong chest. She whimpered, nuzzling into him,
eyes shut tightly as she struggled to stop crying, her body tense
with fear.

"It's okay, Hinata," he whispered. "I'm here. It's
over."

Tonight it had been exactly seven years since her brother had died
in that accident. It was probably about the right time of night, as
well. The nightmare had stuck with her almost every night for the
first year, and had scared her out of even driving to school each day
for some time. Thankfully, it only came once a year now, but that
night was always the hardest...

"Naruto... I miss him..." Her words were a raspy whisper
between rough breaths.

"I know you do, sweetheart. You're safe though, so his memory
can live on..."

She nodded quietly, sighing against his chest and letting her back
loosen slightly. It was true; she did live on, and partially as
Neji's legacy, though she knew she was just his shadow and always
would be. After his death, she'd shied away from the sharp curves and
lightning reactions of drifting, but her love of cars and speed had
remained. Instead, she raced along straightaways and down the
freeway, for the sheer pleasure of it and the occasional small bet;
it was nothing more than a time-killer to her, no matter how much it
was in her blood.

The big money, the big races... she left those to Naruto. He had a
love of speed that ran so deep, people called him a demon for it. His
car had been tweaked time and time again in the three years he'd
owned it, and they worked together as a perfect team, enabling him to
out-drive and outrun anything. His nearly insane speed and laid back
demeanor had drawn her to him, and she loved nothing more than to try
to keep up with him, or to just sit back and enjoy the ride as he
sped down the highway. He made it look so safe, so easy, that any
knowledge of the risk could just float away from her mind on those
rides.

But he'd never known Neji. He'd heard of him, of course; he'd been
a legend in his own time, famous perhaps even before getting his
license. No one who raced within fifty miles of Konoha didn't know of
him, and everyone considered him “the man to beat”.
But Naruto had never actually met her older brother, never knew what
kind of person he was or how close and protective he really was to
Hinata. Those things, he only knew by her own words, and she felt for
certain that those could never do him justice.

Her hand wrapped around the teardrop pendant hanging from her
neck, and his arms grew tighter at the motion, knowing another wave
of tears was coming. Just days before the fateful race, she'd turned
16, and he'd given her one half of a yin-yang necklace for the
occasion. The black half hung from his keychain, even as it was
removed from the mangled wreck.

That half now hung from the mirror of her own car, so that he'd
always be able to enjoy racing...

She cried, and he held her until she fell victim to exhaustion. He
tucked her back in and laid back down to try and sleep again himself,
though he quickly found himself wondering how the race's other victim
was faring that night.

--------

Across town, the crisply silver Spyder weaved through the one way
roads of downtown. He was on his way out, on his way up to the
foothills, to that spot, because it was that night. He
went there at twice a year, every year, regardless of how many other
times his ventures took him there.

He had no fear of the police, even as his tires sprayed tread
across an intersection, bringing him onto the freeway. His dad was a
Sheriff, and even if his knowledge of tonight’s trap locations
was incomplete, no one was about to pick him up, especially
not tonight. They knew better.

And even if they tried, Sasuke could out run them without even
trying.

He crossed over into the median, mirror and tires just inches away
from the concrete divider, the glowing outline of his windshield
skimming over the seats again and again, faster and faster as he
accelerated. Eighty, ninety, one hundred… He didn’t lay
off the gas until he was going over one twenty, and even then he was
still speeding up gradually. He dove between what few cars were on
the road tonight, not because they were in his way but because it was
good practice. Anything to stay sharp. Anything to remain the best.

And he was, of course, the best. His brother had been the best,
too, so it was only natural for him to rise to the top, to beat this
city at its own game. When one fell, the next needed to take up the
legacy.

His only regret was that he couldn’t beat the one who’d
taken his brother away from him seven years before. Of course, the
bastard had died in the process, so he felt somewhat satisfied.

Not wholly so, though. But not even being the undisputed best in
the city satiated him.

Which was why, time and time again, he found himself back on that
road, winding his way in and out, with or without an opponent. He’d
beaten everyone who’d challenged him to that track – for
some reason people found it funny, even ironic to ask him to race
there, like a joke that never got old. But somehow, it wasn’t
good enough.

Maybe because he’d never found a challenge. They were all
just too weak, too slow.

Maybe he wouldn’t be happy until he followed his brother’s
fate completely. He wasn’t sure. The thought did cross his mind
on occasion, though, and more often than he'd ever admit. It was as
though he knew it was his fate to be taken by the mountain as well.

He screeched to a halt at the top, tires sliding on the thin layer
of gravel covering the poorly maintained road, and stared down at the
hairpin turns and cliffs, to the river far below. The bridge across
was the finish line.

One hand dropped to the gearshift as his eyes locked on his watch.

Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine-

Gas.

Pedal to the floor, let up, clutch, shift, and pedal to the floor
again. He didn’t have enough speed to need to skid around the
first turn, but at the second, he pumped his hand brake, drifting 90
degrees and hammering the gas as he straightened out. Another shift,
then three more quick turns, on and on down the hill. The whole track
was five miles long, and took twenty minutes doing the speed limit.

He could make it in under four.

Several turns later, he slammed the parking brake on and stared at
his watch.

00:03:16.78

There had been less than forty seconds left in the race when
Itachi’s car had been shoved off the road.

He stared down the cliff for at least a full minute, then backed
up, making full use of his car’s tight turning radius on the
narrow road, and headed back up to try again.

That time, he crossed the bridge with a time of 4:08. Pathetic.
He’d have to try again tomorrow night.
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Burning Leaves