Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ From Here to Eternity ❯ Dolores, Pills, Grades, and Ryker ( Chapter 25 )

Kat: -reads reviews- … Wow…

 

Soriko: What?

 

Kat: Well… I just got my first flame. -sighs- This really makes me sad. Will someone tell me I'm not the only one who has to put up with piece of shit reviews like that? I deleted it, but I copied it to my bio so EVERYONE could see it! -grin- Please, tell me what you think.

 

They Call Me Socks: … Maybe I will… Maybe I will… -shifty eyes- E-mail me or I'll eat you first born.

 

 

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This was it. The last apartment.

 

Yashamaru leaned against the wall, and crossed out the small add with a black Sharpie. He looked up at the drab, brick building, and sighed. It didn't look very promising. But then again, all the promising buildings had ended up being very dissatisfying.

 

But he would persevere! He still had one chance left! Maybe Wimbledon Apartments would be fine. Who knew?

 

Wimbledon… suddenly the name seemed familiar to him.

 

Entering the building, he knocked on the door with the word `Manager' written across in bold, black letters. He waited for a moment, the sounds of shuffling leaking out from inside the room. Then, the door opened.

 

“Sonny!” a familiar rasp came. “Come to see me, didja?”

 

Yashamaru almost fell over from shock, as the tiny old lady hugged him around the waist.

 

“Dolores!” he said, his jaw dropping. “What… What are you doing here?”

 

“These here are my apartments!” Dolores said, sliding back, and adjusting her glasses. Her hair was ash white, and her make-up was put on so thickly that that she resembled a doll. Her back was humped, and she smelled like cigarette smoke.

 

“I thought you were on your way to Vegas!” Yashamaru said, still failing to fully grasp the situation.

 

“I was!” Dolores said, closing the door behind her, and leading him to the elevator. “Blew all my dough at the Blackjack table, ain't that a kick in the pants? Tried the slots for a while, they didn't have as big of a payoff as you would hope! I'm guessing you're here about the apartment add, eh?” Then, seeing the look of surprise that passed across Yashamaru's face, she said, “Oh, calm down, Sonny! I could tell that you wanted to get out of Sunaga from the moment I set eyes on ya! Used to live there myself `till I moved here!”

 

She continued to ramble on until the elevator dropped them on the seventh floor. She led him down the hall, to the very end, where a door with the letter and number “7J” gleamed against the painted wood. She pulled out a large ring of keys, stuck one in the lock, and pushed open the door.

 

“Oh… my God…” Yashamaru breathed, his eyes growing roughly to the size of dinner plates.

 

“Well go on in, Sonny! Can't keep out here all day, eh?” Dolores said, gently pushing him inside, and following him, shutting the door.

 

“It's… It's… It's…” Yashamaru gaped, looking around the apartment. It was… big! There was no furniture, and a white carpet spread out across the floor. There was one huge window, covering the entire side wall. It gave a view of the entire city. There was a fireplace near the door, and just above it was…

 

“Sssskkkyyyyyyliiiight…” Yashamaru squeaked, looking up at the ceiling. “It's perfect,” he said, turning to Dolores. She nodded.

 

“Doncha want to know the price, Sonny?” she said, tapping her chin. Yashamaru's face fell.

 

“H-How much is it?” he asked, biting his lip. Dolores burst out laughing.

 

“For you, Sonny? Two seventy a month, utilities included,” she said, waving a hand through the air, and grinning, showing yellow teeth.

 

“T-two seventy?” he cried. “That's… that's…”

 

“Ridiculously cheap? Oh, I know,” Dolores said, nodding. “But these are my apartments, and I like ya, Sonny,” she said, shrugging.

 

“Is… Are… there…?”

 

“Any other bidders? Oh yes,” she said with a nod. “But none of them were ever as nice to me as you were on the bus.”

 

“So… you're…?”

 

“Going to let you have the apartment? You got it, Sonny!”

 

Yashamaru stared at her for a moment, before catching her in a bone-crushing hug.

 

“Oooohhh thank you thank you thank you!” he cried, before releasing her. “You can't even begin to imagine how grateful I am! I… I…”

 

“One condition,” Dolores said, raising a contorted finger. Yashamaru nodded.

 

“Anything!”

 

“You have to join me for dinner once week,” Dolores said with a knowing look. “I asked my own son to do it, he lives in the building too, you'll probably meet him soon, but he said no, so I raised his rent to five eighty a month without utilities and his apartment isn't nearly as nice as this one.” She nodded.

 

“I'd be happy to!” Yashamaru said, his eyes lighting up. He wanted to say, `Is that ALL?', but decided that that would be pushing his luck.

 

“Now… don't you want to see the rest of the apartment?”

 

“Oh! Yes!”

 

A moment later…

 

“JACUZZI! YES!”

 

 

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“D…Dad?”

 

Kankuro's eyes were wide as he slowly took in the scene unfolding at the table. There he was. Ryker Kaze, the Kaze father, was sitting calmly at the kitchen table with Yashamaru, drinking a cup of coffee, and acting like nothing had happened.

 

“Oh! Hello, Kankuro. How was school?” he asked, setting down the cup. Yashamaru's eyes were downcast, staring intently at his cup. Kankuro swallowed, and leaned against the doorframe.

 

“Y…You aren't supposed to be back until… until…”

 

“Saturday night, yes, I know. But the meetings finished much earlier than I thought they would,” he said placidly, with a shrug, “so I got the first flight home.”

 

“Hey, Kankuro, is something…” Gaara started, coming up beside the taller teen, his words falling from his lips the moment he saw who was at the table. His eyes widened considerably, and he turned, and ran down the hall and up the stairs.

 

“What's wrong with him?” Ryker asked Yashamaru, who shrugged, his eyes still on his cup, and stood.

 

“I have to… go pack…” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Kankuro? Want to give me a hand?”

 

“Sure!” Kankuro said, relief evident in his voice. Suddenly, there was a rather high pitched squeal from his elbow.

 

“DADDY!”

 

“Princess!” Ryker said, standing so he could embrace Temari, who eagerly ran into his arms.

 

`What I wouldn't give for her ignorance…' Kankuro thought mournfully, as Temari sat down next to their father, chatting excitedly about school and her friends.

 

Kankuro followed Yashamaru up the stairs to the guest bedroom, his mind racing.

 

`Oh my God, what the hell is he doing home so early?' he thought, his hands shaking, and his eyes drifting over to the door. `Gaara…'

 

 

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“You got all A's, didn't you,” Sasuke said coldly, his eyes steady with Itachi's. They were back at home now, and Itachi was at his desk in his bedroom, a textbook propped open in front of him.

 

“Yeah,” Itachi said with a shrug. “Didn't you?” He turned to look at Sasuke, but the younger teen had already disappeared. “…Okay…” Itachi shrugged, and returned to his book. Realizing he had lost his place entirely, he sighed darkly, and slammed the book forward. He leaned back in his chair, and put his arms behind his head.

 

Itachi was bored. There was no way around it.

 

“I should probably be working out or something…” he said to himself, shutting his eyes. Basketball started in three weeks? Four? He wasn't sure. He opened his eyes again.

 

Bored was better than busy sometimes, though. At least he wasn't at school.

 

His eyes widened.

 

“Shit…” he hissed, leaping up from the chair, and tripping over to his backpack. It sat discarded by the door. He rummaged through it for a moment, then turned the entire thing upside down, its contents spilling out onto the floor. “No, no, no…”

 

“Is something wrong, dear?” Keiko's voice broke shattered through his thoughts. His head snapped up. She was standing by the door, her dark brown eyes shining with concern.

 

“No, no… I just left a book at school…” Itachi shrugged. “No big deal, though. The assignment isn't due for two more days.”

 

“Oh, well, that's good. Supper's ready,” she said, with a nod. Then she walked down the hall to inform Sasuke.

 

Itachi dug through the mess for another moment, almost sobbing in frustration.

 

“You've gotta be kidding me,” he said with a resigned sigh, before standing, and leaving the room.

 

 

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Sasuke was in turmoil. He was still staring at his progress report, his eyes wide and his hands shaking. How was he possibly going to tell his father? This horrible smudge on his perfect record would no doubt follow him for life! Now he'd never get into the right college, and he'd never make it to Harvard! He was sick with the thought.

 

Yes, Sasuke was blowing things way out of proportion. But that was how his mind worked.

 

“Sasuke! Dinner's on the table!” Keiko called from outside his bedroom door. He heard her soft footsteps recede from the doorway and down the stairs. He swallowed hard, and shoved the paper into his pocket, before standing, and leaving his room.

 

“This looks great, Mom,” Itachi said, right as Sasuke walked into the dining room. He took his seat, and stared at him full plate. Steak, mashed potatoes, and peas. He took one bite of the mashed potatoes, then set down his fork. His throat and mouth felt coated with sandpaper.

 

“Oh! Itachi, Sasuke, didn't you get your progress reports today?” Keiko asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin. Sasuke flinched.

 

“Mm? Let's see, then, Itachi!” Heisuke said, setting down his knife.

 

Itachi, who was resting his head on a closed fist, dug into his back pocket, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He passed it over to his father, with a shrug. “The usual.”

 

“Very good, Itachi! As expected of my child,” Heisuke bellowed, clapping a hand against Itachi's back, causing him to fold forward, his face barely missing his plate. “Sasuke? Let's see yours.”

 

Sasuke hesitantly pulled out his grades, and passed them over to his father. Then he stared down at his lap, awaiting the inevitable.

 

There was an awkward silence, before Keiko said, “Well? What is it?”

 

“Is this right?” Heisuke said gruffly. “C+. You got a C+, Sasuke?”

 

“Y…Yes,” Sasuke said, his throat constricting.

 

“This is unacceptable,” Heisuke snapped, putting down the grades, and shaking his head. “I thought you would do better, Sasuke. More like your brother!”

 

Sasuke twisted a napkin in his hands, his eyes blurring.

 

“I… I'll t-try harder, Dad… I…”

 

“Uchihas do NOT get C+'s. Is that understood?”

 

Sasuke swallowed hard, and nodded, not looking up.

 

“Y-yes,” he choked out.

 

“Good.” Heisuke ended the conversation there. Sasuke sniffed quietly.

 

“C-can I be excuse? I'm n-not really hungry.”

 

“Fine. Go,” Heisuke said bluntly. Sasuke scooted the chair back from the table, turned, and walked out of the room. Itachi sat up straight, watching him go, his eyes livid. Once he was sure Sasuke was out of hearing distance, he turned to his father.

 

“Dad,” he said. “How can you be so hard on him?” Heisuke glanced up, surprised.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean,” Itachi said, “will you lay off Sasuke? He's trying his hardest! He studies more than I do, he's got the best grades in his class, and all he wants is a little positive reinforcement!”

 

“He should be more like you, Itachi,” Heisuke said, after a pause.

 

Itachi shook his head.

 

“But he isn't. He is NOT me! He's nothing like me! And if you'd stop for one second and watch HIM, maybe you'd see that.” Without another word, Itachi stood up, and left the room. Heisuke watched him leave, at a complete loss for words. He heard a small cough from the end of the table. He looked up, to see Keiko glaring coldly at him.

 

“He's right, you know,” she said stiffly, before she too, stood and left the room.

 

 

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Sasuke was on the verge of hysterics. He pressed his face harder into the pillow, and gasped for air, as the words rolled around in his head.

 

`Uchihas do NOT get C+'s.'

 

`I thought you would do better, Sasuke. More like your brother!'

 

“I'm… not… HIM!” Sasuke screamed, his voice muffled. He took a deep breath, and held it, trying to subdue his hiccups and sobs. He felt like he was going to throw up.

 

After a few minutes, he finally managed to calm himself down. He pulled his head off of the pillow, and wiped off his eyes.

 

He would have to talk to Orochimaru the next day to see if he could change his grade somehow.

 

“I'll do anything,” he decided firmly, sitting up, his breath hitching. “Whatever it takes.”

 

 

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Kankuro was hiding out in his bedroom, as he was certain Gaara was doing. Temari was downstairs, talking excitedly with their father. Kankuro shook his head.

 

How could she possibly be this excited about seeing him home? Of course. He never laid a hand on her.

 

Kankuro was immediately disgusted with himself for thinking something so terrible. He collapsed back on his bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

 

At that moment, the phone rang. Kankuro flew up and grabbed it off the receiver.

 

`Old habits die hard, right?' he thought dispassionately, before pressing the phone to his ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“H-Hello? Kankuro?” came the tearful voice at the other end. Kankuro recognized it at once.

 

“Haku! What is it, what's wrong?”

 

“K-Kankuro… how soon can you get to Mercer and Cherry?”

 

Mercer and Cherry? Oh… That was a street corner on the other side of town. Kankuro frowned, his anxiety deepening.

 

“What's wrong? Do you need-“

 

“How soon?”

 

Kankuro choked on the rest of his sentence.

 

“A… few minutes, give or take.”

 

“I'll see you then.”

 

Then the line went dead. Kankuro set the phone down, and stared at it.

 

“What the hell?” he said to the air, before, standing up, and leaving the room. “I'm going out!” he called as he came down the stairs.

 

He received no answer from his father. He shrugged, opened the front door, and tore out into the night. It was late; at least nine. He hurried over to his car, and jammed the keys in the ignition.

 

“Come on, come on,” he muttered, the car stalling for a moment, before roaring to life. “Yes!” He backed out of the driveway, and sped off down the street. “Okay… Mercer… and Cherry… right,” he mumbled, pulling onto the main road. There were almost no other cars out this late. Monday night, no one wanted to be out. He drove until he hit the intersection of Main Street and Mercer Road, and pulled onto the smaller drive.

 

He bit his lip as he drove, his eyes searching the green street signs for Cherry Avenue. Oak… Alder… Pine… Cherry! There! He pulled over to the side of the road, turned off his car, and stepped out.

 

“Haku? Hello? You here?” he called, searching the dark street. He wondered vaguely if this was a prank the effeminate boy was playing, but he banished the thought. It wasn't something Haku would do. He shivered. It was cold, and all he had on was a sweatshirt. He sighed angrily, looking around.

 

Suddenly, someone grabbed him on the shoulder.

 

“WOAH!” he cried, spinning around, pulling his fists out of his pockets, ready for action. But all he saw was… “Haku? Oh my God, what's wrong?”

 

Haku's pale face was flushed red and cut with tearstains. He looked up mournfully at Kankuro, his dark eyes shining with unshed tears.

 

“What? What is it? Did something happen? Is it your parents?” Kankuro groped for an explanation, his eyes wide. Haku just looked down, and shook his head. He put his hand into his pocket, and pulled something out.

 

“What is this?” he asked, his voice shaky. He pushed something into Kankuro's sight line, but his hands were trembling so badly that Kankuro couldn't tell.

 

“I don't-“

 

“TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE HERE!” Haku sobbed, his voice breaking. Kankuro grabbed his arm, steadying it, and pulled the thing out of his hand.

It was a cylinder pill container. In the dim light, he could make out words written across the label, but he couldn't tell what they were.

 

“It's… medicine…” he said slowly. The container was almost empty. He glanced up at Haku, who was shivering badly, his head down. “Christ, Haku! You're not even wearing a jacket!”

 

“I… don't…”

 

“Come on, come on, over here. Get in the car, I'll put on the heater,” he said, grabbing Haku by the wrist, and pulling him over to the car. Haku stumbled over to the passenger side, pulled it open, and sat down. Kankuro sat down in the drivers' seat, and turned on the engine. The lights kicked on, and Kankuro twisted the heater up as high as it could go. Haku wrapped his arms around his waist, and stared dully at the dashboard. Kankuro sighed, and looked down at the label.

 

“Heisuke Uchiha,” he read. “Take one per day with breakfast for relief of pain and spasms.” He looked up. “Okay… it's muscle relaxers, or something.” He shook his head. “Why do you have Itachi's dad's medi…cine… oh…” His eyes widened.

 

“I found those,” Haku said slowly, “in Itachi's locker. They fell out. Check th-the prescription date.”

 

Kankuro glanced down.

 

“This is… this…”

 

“A little over two weeks ago. When did Itachi start acting weird?”

 

“Two… weeks… ago…” Kankuro furiously shook his head. “That doesn't mean that-“

 

“Take on pill per day. How many pills do you think started out in that bottle, Kankuro? How many are left now?” Haku said, his voice breaking, and tears spilling over his eyelids.

 

Kankuro was at a loss for words.

 

“He tried… to kill himself, Kankuro,” Haku choked out. Then he dropped his head into his heads, and sobbed.

 

Kankuro had lost his ability to form words. He stared at the bottle, his hands beginning to shake. Then he looked over at the distraught Haku. He put an arm around his shoulders, and pulled him close.

 

“Haku…” he finally said. “C-Calm down… everything's gonna be fine-“

 

“No it's not! He tried to OD on pain relievers, Kankuro! Why? Why would he do something like this? What could possibly be so wrong with his life that he would try to do something like this?” Haku bawled, his face still buried in his hands. Kankuro sucked in a breath.

 

“Kankuro… I… Never mind… I'm just tired.”

 

“No. Nothing. I just didn't get much sleep last night. Really. Don't worry about me.

 

“Oh Kank-k-kuro, I w-wish I could tell yuh-you! I w-wish I could but I c-can't I c-can't Goddammit, I c-can't!”

 

And he realized that, despite the fact that Itachi was doubtlessly his best friend, he had no idea.

 

“I don't know,” he said solemnly, dropping the pill bottle to the ground, and wrapping his arms around the ardent Haku. “I really don't know.”

 

 

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Kankuro drove Haku back to his house in silence. Once they pulled up to the driveway, Haku asked him a question.

 

“What are we gonna do?” he said, his voice raspy. His looked blearily over to Kankuro, who shook his head.

 

“Well,” he said darkly, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I know someone we can ask about the pills… someone who will know what to do. Maybe.” He sighed. But, it seemed to reassure to dark haired sophomore. Haku nodded, got out of the car, and walked up into his house. Kankuro coughed twice into his hands, then drove off. It was almost ten.

 

“Damn… He's gonna kill me,” he said, glancing down at the illuminated clock, and sighing. He drove up to his own house, surprised to see it was still lighted. He parked the care, and jammed the keys in his pocket as he walked up the porch steps. He opened the door as quietly as he could, shutting it equally as silently. He pulled off his shoes, and made his way into the kitchen.

 

“Where the hell have you been?” a cold voice asked, causing Kankuro to practically jump out of his skin.

 

“Huh? Oh…” He looked up to see his father leaning against the counter, a cigarette between his fingers. “M…My friend… he needed a ride home…”

 

“Oh, well… isn't that nice…” his father said icily, straightening up, and walking towards him. Kankuro was cemented to his spot, unsure of what to do. Then, without warning, Ryker backhanded his son across the face. Kankuro stumbled back, and bit his lip to keep from crying out, his hands flying to his face. His ear was numb, and the room was spinning. He dropped down to his knees.

 

Ryker pulled back his hand, and took a drag from his cigarette.

 

“You do not leave this house without my permission, ya got that?” he spat. He stubbed out the cigarette in the sink, and left the kitchen.

 

Kankuro, his head still reeling, stumbled to his feet.

 

“Son of a…” he muttered to himself, rubbing his stinging face. His ear was still numb, but now it was ringing. But now all he could hear was his own anger.

 

 

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