Chapter Text
And yet again, Naruto found himself in another scuffle with the Uchiha.
He leapt to the side—narrowly avoiding what would’ve been a mean kick to the stomach. But, before he had the time to right himself, dirtied hands flew to the collar of his sweatshirt, grabbing messily, but with clear purpose. His upper back slammed against the rough stone, probably bruising his shoulder blades. That oughta hurt later.
Dragged upwards, he soon realized he’d no longer felt the security of his feet planted firm on the earth. It drew a grimace out of him, which he soon masked with a disdained chuckle. He hadn’t yet looked at his attacker. He wouldn’t yet give him that pleasure.
Though, he knew that would soon be ruined. This dude and his need for eye contact… What was his deal?
The arms keeping him lifted strained, which prompted Naruto to jut his knee forwards in hopes to keel the other over. However, he lurched back—knee only brushing his shirt.
Time for plan B..
He did not have a plan B. Hell, plan A had barely been in the works when it was put onto the podium, into action.
Now, he felt he was being pressed back up against the wall, but with much more vigor… or perhaps rage. It made his back tense, which the boy had taken notice of. He sneered—toothy and proud.
“You make an idiot of yourself, Uzumaki.” Came the voice; dark and low as ever.
“Bhah! At least I’m not so obvious in my sadism. You look almost blissful, Sasuke,” Most of that was a lie. Probably. He didn’t know what the other enjoyed anymore, but inflicting this upon the blonde seemed damn good enough.
When it came to the Uchiha… Naruto had never felt more prideful than when seeing his face twisting in displeasure. Fury. Hate…
Not that it was like. His hobby. He didn’t like hurting people,
But you gotta keep the feelings mutual, yeah?
He was pulled from his oh-so-wistful thinking when something connected with the flesh just beneath his ribs. Naruto felt the air leave him, as did those wretched hands.
Sasuke had let go of Naruto—letting; watching him crumple. He slid down the side of the wall, clutching at his sides with the opposite hand.
Before he could pull the air back into his lungs, he was forced to the ground, seized by the throat. His skull hit asphalt, though thankfully, not to the point it would render him unconscious. A bruise… minor concussion at most. He curled in on himself—using his legs to both protect his core, and to prevent the Uchiha from straddling him, which, to Naruto’s satisfaction, made this lovely little choking session much more difficult for the other.
As Sasuke had to re-position himself, the pressure faltered, and so Naruto snatched the opportunity and ran with it. Spinning himself to face the boy, he kicked out with as much strength as he could muster in this… fetal pose. The initial aim was for his nose, but instead, the heel of his shoe hit bony chin. Not what he wanted, but still good.
Sasuke slid backwards, almost clawing at his lower face. The area where skin met rubber was scratched and dotted with crimson.
While the Uchiha recovered, Naruto shot up to his feet, leaned up against the stone yet again. He had just barely regained some of his wind, but was up and ready to scram.
For several moments, the two boys just kept in place—their breathing ragged and racing; both fighting to recover before the other.
“Bastard,” Naruto managed on an exhale.
A cross between a smirk and a scowl made its way to Sasuke’s lips.
He’d started wiping the blood from his chin with the back of his hand—smearing it up his lower cheek. Truthfully, both had become exhausted, but their desire to keep up the fight… To see who will succeed over the other. It kept them both on the rim.
And maybe that’s how it’s only ever been.
Right off the bat, it seemed they were made to be put up against the other.
Naruto Uzumaki, a freak and an outcast, but despite that, harboured loud defiance and wild ambition.
Sasuke Uchiha, quiet and dark. A smartass, loved by all.
Sasuke was the top student.
Naruto wanted to take that place.
But he didn’t just want to be the smartest.
No, that was only a small bit of this goal of his.
He wanted to eat away at the Uchiha’s popularity… his favor among so many.
Sasuke, really, could not care any more about how people viewed him. If anything, he resented how so many people saw him only as something pretty to look at, or like some trophy to desire. They never cared to know him personally, to learn what troubled him most.
It was just…
Naruto’s need to put him down to second bothered him.
At first, it was simple rivalry.
Glare at one another when you pass in the hall, fight over whoever did best on a test type rivalry.
Then Uzumaki started picking up more sports.
He may not be able to fully surpass Sasuke academically, but he’d be damned if he mentioned to do so physically as well.
Of course, they had their own respective activities.
Naruto had been more into boxing, while Sasuke was more fine-tuned with soccer.
And if only things just couldn’t get any worse.
Both shared interest in ice hockey.
To them, it was another way to prove who was the better player.
To those on the outside, it looked like another excuse to beat up the other.
It didn’t help that the proper season for that was approaching.
At this point, the blonde had begun to stare off somewhere beyond Sasuke, only to be pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden shift.
As quickly as he’d gotten back into focus, he was standing, glowering up at the Uchiha, who, surprisingly, did not return the stare.
Instead, he was reaching for his pocket, which had started to glow and buzz.
Without looking at Naruto, his hand slid towards the seam, prying out his phone.
Immediately, Naruto jumped to protest.
“You! Really? Get off your damn phone when I’m speaking to yo-” The shout was cut short when Sasuke thrust his hand out, shushing him. He held the speaker up to his ear, listening.
Temporarily abandoning his resolve on keeping the boy’s attention, he leaned away from the hand–turning his head just enough to have his ear face the phone.
There was a muffled shuffling, then, a settled voice cut straight through the background.
Sasuke blinked up and scowled when he noticed the blonde eavesdropping, but didn’t move to stop him. So, of course, Naruto took it as an invitation to inch closer.
This time, however, broody-boy did seem to care.
He took a step back, covering the lower phone speaker with his hand.
“The hell do you think you’re doing, scatterbrain? Get away from me!” Sasuke hissed low, shoving Naruto away by his forehead.
He stumbled backwards, swatting Sasuke’s wrist away.
“I was– Urgh, you don’t have to be so difficult, alright?!” Naruto spat, just quick enough to finish his mouthful before a pale hand clasped over his lower face–pulling at the skin of his cheeks.
Sasuke; although attention fixed on the voice murmuring from the speaker, kept an eye on Naruto. He may have shut up for a few much-needed moments, but there was no doubt that serenity would soon be broken.
Never was there a waking moment where the boy was completely–utterly–silent.
And that had been something those around him had begrudgingly come to terms with.
. . .
By then, Sasuke had unmuted himself, and croaked out some last words of agreement before dropping the phone into his back pocket. So, without the worry of interruption, he pulled his hand away, wiping it on his pants leg.
Now freed, Naruto just about leapt backwards, bristling. He straightened, but still shifted in a way that proved he was still as bellicose as ever.
Really, he looked like he was ready to pounce, until Sasuke turned away, headed out the alley.
He didn’t move with too much haste, nor with laze. It was deliberate and quick—leaving no room for the Uzumaki to continue his argumentative spark.
Truthfully, though, as much as he wouldn’t mind beating that dimwit further into the pavement, he was tired—weary, and cold to the bone.
It was late September, yet it felt like the temperature had dropped 40° from the prior week.
And as much as he wished it didn’t affect him, it made him feel rigid and slow. Which, normally, didn’t happen. Call him Elsa, call him whatever snowy fairytale fable you can come up with. He was typically resistant to colder climates.
Now, his sudden intolerance irked him. Almost more so than the yellow-headed bimbo that barked and shouted at him like a fenced dog.
So, he kept walking—hands creeping up to grip at the material of his windbreaker.
Kept moving, till he was out of the crowded alleyway.
The new air immediately shoved him back, blowing his eyes wide.
It was freezing.
Almost devastatingly so.
He felt as though he were caught in the apex of a blizzard, only, without the snow.
Wind bit cruelly at his cheeks and ears, forcing him to bring up his hood. The material was thin, which, really, wasn’t much help against the bitter cold, but… at least it lived up to its name. It kept the swirling air brushing past him and around, instead of through him.
He’d been so caught up in the jarring exposure that he hadn’t noticed the Uzumaki trotting up behind him until he heard the tapping of his shoes against wet stone.
At first, the pace was steady. Then, towards the end, there was a brief hesitation, and Sasuke knew all too well what it meant.
The moment the suspicion had become lucid, he dropped down into a crouch—narrowly avoiding the leg that soared past his head.
Naruto–as much as Sasuke wished the contrary–was no cheap shot.
The moment he’d processed the Uchiha’s evasion, he grunted, now shoving his heel back down towards his neck. Sasuke dove away, only to jerk back mid leap.
Naruto had taken hold of the back of his collar–pulling him back in like a cat by the scruff.
Adrenaline surged anew, and Sasuke found the warmth in his body returning. Flooding out from his core, down to the calloused tips of his fingers.
Time seemed to slow, though just momentarily.
It was a small window. The inch the gym door has till it shuts and locks.
However, an opportunity can never go wasted.
Regaining his footing, Sasuke kicked out and back, blasting Naruto in the shin. His knee buckled sideways, and he teetered. And yet his grip remained on the back of his collar.
Cursing to himself as time resumed its prior pace, he felt his legs shift from the ground a great deal, and then, just as suddenly, he was hurled towards the concrete.
Back into the alley.
As his side collided with the surface (that felt painfully akin to sandpaper… according to Sasuke’s cheek), he heard Naruto exhale, like he was disapproving of such a foolish attempt.
Swallowing the sharp bile that has boiled its way to the back of his tongue, Sasuke swayed to his knees.
“You really don’t know when to give it a break, do you?” He rasped. All he’d wanted was to get to his bike, and crash into his mattress. He wouldn’t need to study, or check his grades. He knew what they were, which, was none other than perfect. Sasuke could just lounge around, doing whatever he pleased until he was brought, or called over for dinner.
Of course, Naruto had much, much different ideas and ideals.
“Oh, come on. You should know this by now,” His voice dropped almost gravely low. Sweat brought strands of golden hair to his forehead, plastering them there. And, for just a moment, he could swear he saw his eyes flash from blue to red, then quickly back. “Ya know I don’t DO givin’ up, prettyboy. ‘S just not in my blood.”
All other words slipped past him when the blue-eyed freakshow uttered those two combined words.
Pretty boy?
Now, under normal circumstances, there wouldn’t be any emotion that could boast over his indifference. But, for some odd reason, this dude was the exception.
Rage bubbled over, rattling the lid atop the pot.
He shot to his feet, causing Naruto to momentarily reel.
“Get out of my way.” Came the inevitable demand.
“And why should I?” The incessant retort.
Sasuke fumed. He was sure that if this were a cartoon, there would be jets of steam billowing from his ears and nostrils.
Naruto simply crossed his arms up over his head.
Shifting forwards, he intended to hurry past the blonde, who only side-stepped into his path.
Sasuke didn’t care what other people said. Naruto was probably the most predictable person he’d ever had the misfortune of encountering. Though, the years of actually knowing the guy prior to this… event–certainly gave him more than just word of mouth.
Without missing a beat, Sasuke swung his arm out—elbowing the other square in the stomach to which he keeled over, wheezing.
The Uchiha sped past him, too wired on his triumph to pay mind to the… now familiar shock of the cold.
“That is why.” Sasuke half-shouted, a lighthearted grin taking its play at his lips.
He could faintly hear Naruto sputtering curse after curse, insult after insult as he moved. After a minute, he skidded to a halt in front of his motorbike.
There was a slick layer of dew on the seat, so he pulled out a rag from the back—wiping it down.
But, it wasn’t long before he heard that shouting growing close again that he really began moving. Stuffing the strip into his pocket, he slung himself over the bike, switching the motor on. The vehicle beneath him hummed to life, and by the time Naruto had made his way to the parking lot, Sasuke was peeling away.
At the first light, he pulled his visor down, shielding his face. With the grey sky above reflecting off the polycarbonate—hiding the way his lips curled upwards.
. . .
Coming to a slow, Sasuke stopped just a few feet short of the garage door, pulling the glove off his hand with his teeth to punch a sequence into the breaker by the frame.
He hit enter, and the door seemed to jolt, then, shakily, it rose. Once it’d moved just high enough to squeeze by, he brought his bike gently forwards, till it was parked beside a sleek black car. His brother’s.
As he brought the kickstand down with his heel, the Uchiha slid away from the seat, pausing only briefly to pull the rag from my pocket, and stuff it into a compartment under the back seat.
Nearing the door that led to the hallway, and eventually the dining room, he felt the prickle of dread move up his forearms. Like the brush of a stray hair, or the erratic crawl of an insect. It wasn’t overwhelming. No, nothing like that. If anything, he was dreading the inevitable lecture.
A mere sideways glance from the man, and he’d be sat at the kitchen counter, atop a barstool while he roved on about being responsible and upkeeping his image.
It was all out of worry, of course.
Seeing Sasuke, a star student, arrive at school with a paint palette of bruises blotched over his face and… anywhere else visible wasn’t exactly something that just went unnoticed, unnoted.
Not only did Itachi want even more questions about life at home was (because god knows how many times he’s been asked that already) by prying school counselors and school-board parents.
Seriously, Sasuke didn’t understand how it could be such a big deal, but when he relayed the news to his brother, it seemed to offset him.. quite deeply. So, Sasuke learned to steer conversations down a different track before the question could surface. Sure, he could simply not tell his brother when it eventually slipped through somebody. Typically the counselors. They had a knack for being tricky.
But, anyway, his brother was just the same. Read him more like a blazing billboard than an open book, and it ticked him off.
No matter how much he worked towards keeping every flit of, well, anything; hidden well below. Far beneath his skin—in the marrow of his bones, in the narrowest corners of his mind. Should he keep it as shallow as his skin… god, that fish brain- no. No, that’s insulting to even the most incognizant of guppies. Naruto is dumber than rocks, and even they hold some knowledge. Some history.
For some reason, whatever power reigns over Earth decided to fill the blonde’s noggin with only muscle. He was stupid. Beyond so. And yet that kid could really throw a mean fist. As much as Sasuke hated to admit it. He was strong, even if his diet consisted purely of red bull and microwave ramen. Hell, he’d put it up to steroids, but the guy can barely even afford his shack of a house.
Enough of him. Sasuke won’t have any coherent thoughts other than rage if he keeps up with this.
Although, that might not be as awful of a fate as some make it out to be. It’d sure as hell fuel his drive to pummel the guy into the ground.
Pushing through the door now, he was greeted with a familiar warmth—something sizzling atop the glass stove… either pork or fish, next to a pot of white rice.
Or perhaps a soup.
His brother stood just by the oven, looking to the hallway Sasuke had entered.
“You’re late.”
He looked down at his phone. 6:03.
“By three minutes. Don’t go on acting like it’s a business interview I failed to arrive punctually to.” He set his helmet down on the dining table, then brought himself around the counter to stand by his brother.
Itachi poked at the contents of the pan with a wooden spatula. “May as well start training you now, hm? Who’ll be taking over the company when I’m gone? Surely not a man who can’t even get to his appointments within the hour they’re set.”He hummed, now taking the pan off the heat.
“…It said it was at 8pm. Not eight in the morning.”
“And what clinic would ever be open that late?”
“That one, apparently!” A breath. “Either way, it’s not my fault. Whoever set the time picked the wrong option.”
“They don’t just ‘pick the wrong option’, Sasuke.” As serious as he sounded, there was a flicker of mirth in his eyes.
“Whatever. Overall message, overarching theme, moral of the story. It wasn’t my fault! And it doesn’t matter anymore. I rescheduled and got there on time, for the second time.” His arms crossed over his chest now, sleeves brought up past his elbows.
“I’m sure of it, little brother.”
Sasuke spun on his heel, facing the stairs. Without sparing a glance back, he climbed them quickly, up to his room. Itachi called after him.
“Be back down in the hour if you want dinner before it’s packed into the fridge.”
He only grunted in reply.
Stripping himself from his thick jacket, then the windbreaker kept beneath, Sasuke shuffled his way into the restroom that branched out into his room. He locked the door behind him, tossed the heavy layers onto his mattress, and shut that door as well.
Under the near scalding spray of the shower, Sasuke fought to rid the chill from his bones. Autumn was hitting him harder than he expected.
Though he could probably blame climate change for that… going from the 70’s to 40’s in the same week. It’s obscene.
Clambering down the stairs with a towel around his shoulder to catch the remaining water streaming down his head, Sasuke swiped a clean plate from the counter.
The fish had grown cold, but not unbearingly so. The rice too.
Popping a bowl of the fish and rice into the microwave for a minute and a half, Sasuke leaned against the counter, neck twisting and straining to peek at his brother who’d been resting on the sofa, reading.
The ding of the microwave pulled him out of his head.
Dishes taken care of, Sasuke found his way back to his room.
Snagging his cycling jacket from where it rested atop the blankets, he strung it up on the coat hanger attached to his. The windbreaker, he threw into the closet.
Without need to reign back his reactions, Sasuke groaned, flopping down to the mattress. His body hurt. Ached. Throbbed with every pulse of his heart.
God, what wouldn’t he give or do just to never see that worm-brained whump again. He couldn’t come up with anything. Not as he drifted into sleep.