Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ From Here to Eternity ❯ Cooking, Crisis, Sickness, and Tibet ( Chapter 34 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

To BHS:

Flatulent; adj.

1. Of, or relating to, flatulence.

2. Pompous; bloated; inflated; superficial; flashy; grandiose.

Fool. Eat that. XD

Oh, God… Does Sasuke even KNOW Yashamaru, yet? OO I can't remember! Damn… Oh, he hasn't. Right? Yes. Of course I'm right. I'm ALWAYS right. RIGHT?

Soriko: … Sure.

Naruto: Yeah. That's it.

Yashamaru: Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Kat: … Shizznats. Oh, crap… I think my mosquito bite is getting infected… -sweat-

Soriko: I told you not to pick at that thing.

Kat: … Uh… No you didn't…?

Soriko: … - -

For the record, I'd like to send my hugs out to Socks. You poor yaoi fanboy, you. XD

Oh! And I'd like to encourage all of you to go read my newest chapter of `Flipside'. If I get more reviews for that, I may be inspired to update `Today', or whatever. Yeah. GO REVIEW! … I love you all! I really do! -grin-

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“Do you love me?”

The question caught Zabuza completely off guard. He turned away from the ramen he was currently attempting to cook, to stare at Haku, who was standing at the counter, his eyes shadowed.

“…Huh?” Zabuza grunted, certain he had misheard the boy.

“Do you love me?” Haku asked again, turning to fully face Zabuza, who blinked.

“Why would you ask something like that?” he said, going back to boredly stirring the ramen. Haku bit down hard on his lip, blushing deeply.

“I just…” Haku sighed. “Never mind.” He looked back down at the apple he had been peeling, turning it over in his hands. After a moment of silence, he said quietly, “You didn't answer my question.”

Suddenly, Zabuza slammed down his spoon, and walked out of the kitchen. Haku's eyes widened, and he watched in shock as Zabuza pulled open the door, and stepped out of the apartment.

“I love you!” he called weakly. “Can't you say the same thing… to me?”

Zabuza slammed the door shut, causing Haku to almost step backwards in surprise.

“Can't you say… you love me?” he whispered, sinking down to his knees, large tears forming in his eyes. Every time the sophomore asked Zabuza that question, it was always the same reaction. A cold shoulder, or an angry storm off. Haku sniffed, and rubbed his eyes.

He didn't understand it. Why did Zabuza always act this way when the subject of love came up? It was so odd… so different.

But then, was it really so different from Zabuza's usual demeanor? Indifferent, angry… Haku sniffed again, leaning against the counter. He thought back, as he always did when this happened. Had Zabuza really always been like this?

No, of course not. Zabuza… WASN'T always like this. Just when the subject was brought up. Right?

Haku sighed, and reached up onto the counter to pull himself up. But what his hand met was not the hard topped counter, but the stove burner, turned on `high'.

“AAH!” he shrieked, jerking his hand down, and falling away from the counter. “Oh, oh, ow! Ow!” he cried, blowing on the side of his palm, where a long red streak was forming, in the shape of the side of the burner. He shook his hand, painful tears slipping down his cheeks. He stumbled to his feet, and over to the sink. He turned the water on, as cold as it could get, and thrust his hand under, a sob tearing its way from his throat.

His head bowed over, and he gave way to crying, his hair slipping past his shoulders. He left his hand under the harsh flow of the water for at least five minutes, before shutting it off, and gingerly pulling his hand up to close to his face so he could look it over.

The burn was turning a deep purplish-red, and it hurt so terribly. Shouldn't some of the sting have disappeared by now…? Oh, but it hurt!

He swallowed hard, and squeezed his eyes shut, now nervous. He'd never seen a burn like that before. Of course, he'd been burned before, but… but never like this.

Don't bandage it, though. Kankuro had said that. Bandages were bad for burns.

Okay, then he'd leave it out in the air.

Haku prayed that Zabuza would come back soon.

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Gaara felt the ice cold grip on his shoulder, and he felt his heart leap into his throat. Slowly turning his head, he murmured, “Oh… shit…” A head was silhouetted against the glare of the lights near the entrance. He squinted, so he could see. Then his eyes widened.

“Yashamaru! Oh my God,” he said, feeling his pulse rate drop dramatically. The blonde-haired man grinned.

“Scare ya?” he asked, releasing Gaara and Sasuke's shoulders, and clasping his hands behind his back.

“…No,” Gaara said, crossing his arms. Sasuke raised his eyebrows, and gave a small cough. “Ah!” Gaara blinked, then nodded. “Yashamaru, this is Sasuke. Sasuke, this is Yashamaru, my uncle.”

Uncle? Sasuke stared at the man for a moment, then stuck out his hand. “Uh… hi.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Sasuke!” Yashamaru said, shaking Sasuke's hand, and offering a smile. Sasuke shrugged. Whatever. At least he seemed nice.

“Oh, Gaara, Sasuke, there you are. Who's the chick?” It was Tayuya, trailing Hinata, Temari, and Ten-Ten behind her. Temari muffled a giggle behind her hand, and Yashamaru's face fell like a ton of bricks, and his left eye twitched slightly.

“Uh… This is my UNCLE Yashamaru, Tayuya,” Gaara said, jabbing a thumb in Yashamaru's direction. Tayuya flushed pink.

“O-Oh. Sorry,” she said sheepishly, turning to stare a precariously placed lamp. Temari could no longer hold it in. She burst out laughing, causing Yashamaru and Tayuya to both blush deeper.

“THANKS, hun. Big help,” Yashamaru grumbled, crossing his arms, and yawning widely.

“Tired?” Temari asked.

“Yes, actually.” Yashamaru nodded.

“Why are you here anyway, Yashamaru?” she asked. “I thought you were out with Iruka.”

“Oh, I was!” Yashamaru said dreamily. “But we just went out for some coffee and a late breakfast…” He sighed in a very girly way.

“…This is your UNCLE, right?” Sasuke whispered to Gaara, who nodded.

“Anyway,” Yashamaru said, with a shrug. “I decided I'd stop by the mall and see if there was anything on sale. You know, me being basically without clothes, and poor.” He shook his head.

At precisely that moment, something very odd happened. A boy in his mid-teens, with spiked blonde hair, and wearing glasses, raced passed Gaara and Sasuke from inside the store. He was carrying an aluminum bat, and laughing psychotically.

“FREE TIBET!” he screamed, as he bounded into one of the clothing shop across the hall. He then began angrily pounding the manikins with his bat. “THE APOCALYPSE IS UPON US!”

People began running out of the store, screaming in fear, but most seemed to ignore him, like he was an everyday occurrence, which, in fact, he was. Sasuke, Gaara, Ten-Ten, Temari, Tayuya, Hinata, and even Yashamaru had to stare at the sight to behold.

It took security a few minutes before they finally showed up. But by then, the boy had scampered off down the mall, still laughing and yelling random phrases. The mall cops chased after him, and the group lost sight of them after that.

“…What just happened?” Temari asked, shaking her head, and resting a hand against her cheek.

“I'm nuh-not sure,” Hinata said, with a frown.

“That was weird,” Ten-Ten remarked, her hands on her hips.

“That was awesome,” Tayuya said in amazement, scurrying over to the entrance to the store, and looking off down the mall. “Do you think I could do that?”

Yashamaru sighed raptly. “Kids these days,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. Then he put a hand to his forehead, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Oh my…”

“What? What is it?” Ten-Ten asked, her eyes widening.

“Oh, I just got… really dizzy,” Yashamaru said, shaking his head, and closing his eyes.

“Do you… do you need to sit down?” Gaara asked nervously, looking around. There were plenty of places to sit, as it was a BED store. “Here, come on,” he said, taking his uncle by the hand, and leading him over to the closest mattress. Yashamaru sat down, then laid back, staring at the ceiling.

“You okay?” Sasuke asked, seeing that Gaara was worried, and beginning to worry himself. I mean, if Gaara was worried, then there must be something wrong! At least, this was Sasuke's logic.

After a moment, Yashamaru sat up again, now very pale.

“Yashamaru, are you okay?” Temari asked.

“Yes. I'm fine.” Yashamaru took a deep breath, and stood. “I guess I must be getting sick or something.”

“…Oh my God, it's almost flu season!” Ten-Ten said, pressing a hand to her forehead. Then she pointed an accusing finger in Yashamaru's direction. “You could be infected!”

The blonde put up his hands. “I don't have the flu! I CAN'T have the flu! I have work tomorrow!”

“…On a Sunday?” Sasuke asked monotonously. Yashamaru nodded slowly.

“Yes. On a Sunday.”

“I'm just asking!” Sasuke protested, widening his eyes in contempt.

Yashamaru rolled his eyes. “Okay, I need to go. Maybe a nap will take care of this… whatever this is.”

He took one step, and collapsed in a dead faint. His head met the floor at a surprising speed, causing everyone to take a surprised jump backwards.

“OH MY GOD, YASHAMARU!” Gaara squeaked, immediately dropping down to his uncle's aid. Temari joined him on the ground, and gently nudge Yashamaru onto his back. “HE'S DEAD! HE'S DEAD!” Gaara shrieked. Temari punched him hard in the arm.

“No he isn't, numbskull! He's just passed out!”

Gaara calmed down a little, his eyes no longer as wide. “Oh,” he said. Sasuke dropped down next to Gaara and, remembering what Itachi had told him about checking for life signs, pressed two fingers to Yashamaru's neck, just below his jaw.

“His pulse is quick,” he said. Then he pressed a hand to the blonde's forehead. “Jeez, I think he has a fever. You were right, Ten-Ten.”

Ten-Ten gasped, the sheer unorthodox thought of her being CORRECT never crossing her mind.

One had to wonder, though, what ever happened to poor Jack? Why had he not come to assist these youths in need? He had seen that woman collapse and the nasty little brats who had been jumping on his precious beds kneel down to help her, but he didn't care. All he wanted was a nap, damn it! And a raise! Was that so much to ask?

He quickly disappeared into the storage room in the back of the store, never to be seen again. At least, until his shift was over.

Sasuke looked over to Gaara. “Do you have, I don't know, someone we can call to get help?”

Gaara swallowed.

“Yeah…” he said, taking the cell phone that Temari offered him, and flipping it open. “But I'm almost not sure it's such a good idea.”

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Iruka was very busy grading Friday's pop quiz when the phone rang. He ignored it at first, but then remembered that Naruto hadn't returned from the movies yet. He stood up, and walked over to the cordless that they kept in the TV `room'.

“Hello?” he said into the mouthpiece.

“Iruka?” said the somewhat strained voice on the other end.

“Speaking.”

“It's Gaara.”

Iruka raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Gaara? If you're looking for Naruto, he isn't-“

“No! I need help!”

Iruka tensed, every sense alert. Someone needed help! It was time for action! For power!

…It was time to stop acting like Gai!

“What is it? Where are you?” Iruka asked hurriedly.

“At the mall, the Bed King,” Gaara said plainly. Iruka could hear voices in the background. “Shi… I mean, shoot. Iruka, you'd better hurry, because I think he's in serious trouble!”

“Who? Who's in trouble?”

“Yashamaru!” Gaara said. “He passed out!”

It only took Iruka thirty-seven seconds to slam down the phone, and race out to his car.

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“102.4,” Iruka said, pulling the thermometer out from Yashamaru's lips. It had taken some work, but the group had finally been able to make the blonde awaken from his eternal slumber. They managed to get him out to Iruka's old Suburban, and from there, back to his apartment. Sasori had buzzed them in, and opened the door looking none-to-pleased, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Deidara was there also, sitting contently on the couch, and humming to himself in a very Space Cadet-ish way.

Ten-Ten, Temari, Tayuya, and Hinata had left earlier, making sure that everyone was situated. But, as they felt out of place, then skee-daddled out of the apartment as soon as Yashamaru was inside.

Yashamaru's room itself was mostly bare, the walls not yet covered with his numerous pictures, and the bookshelf still looming defiantly outside the bedroom door.

Iruka looked down to Yashamaru, then back to the thermometer. He glanced back at Sasuke and Gaara, the former looking quite bored, and the latter looking quite nervous. “Well,” he said, setting the thermometer on the bedside table. “In my opinion… and you KNOW how good my opinion is,” he said, crossing his arms. Gaara leaned forward nervously, and Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Yashamaru,” he said, placing a hand on Yashamaru's forehead. “You're sick!”

Gaara almost fell over. “WHAT? THAT'S IT?” he sputtered, his eyes slightly blood-shot.

“Well, yeah,” Iruka said. “Fever, fainting, dizziness… you probably just over-worked yourself the last few days,” the English teacher said, with a nod. Yashamaru groaned.

“I can't be sick,” he protested, sliding deeper under the blankets. “I have a job to do!”

“Well, you can't very well go to work like THIS!” Iruka said. “You need rest! And fluids! You better hope this isn't the flu, or you could be out for a week!”

Yashamaru groaned again, only this time, it was more of a choked sob.

Sasori sauntered into the room, Deidara in tow. “Hey, what's going on?” he asked, casually leaning against the door.

“Yashamaru's sick… yeah?” Deidara said, peeking over Sasori's shoulder into the room. Sasuke nodded.

“Yeah.”

Yashamaru closed his eyes, and prayed this was all just a bad dream.

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Tayuya's period was late. A week late, in fact.

The seventeen-year-old bit her lip as she stared at the calendar, her heart thumping painfully against her ribcage. This was bad… this was so, SO bad.

She had just returned from dropping everyone off, Temari to her own house, Hinata to her mansion, and Ten-Ten to her mom's apartment. She had checked her underwear for the familiar dark stain, only to find that it was absent.

Shit. Fuck. Oh… SHIT.

She felt a migraine coming on, but she furiously rubbed her temples in an attempt to force it away. She was always on schedule, always. She had never been late. Never… until now.

`Maybe it's no big deal… maybe I'm just late, not… not…' She couldn't even bear to think it. She was always safe, always used a condom when she was with Kidomaru. They had broken up, what, not even a month ago…?

(Oh God oh God oh God oh shit please please God don't let me be don't let me be pregnant)

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“I say my hell is the closet I'm stuck inside… can't see the light. And my heaven is a nice house in the sky-y… got central heatING… and I'm all RIGHT… yeah, yeah, yeah… can't see the light…”

“Itachi, I hate this music. I hate it so bad,” Kankuro said, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel. They were idling at a red light, Itachi in the passenger seat beside Kankuro. The radio was on, playing some Dave Matthews Band song. Kankuro hated Dave Matthews Band. It was all so soft and icky and metaphorical. He preferred his music LOUD and ANNOYING!

Unfortunately for Kankuro, Itachi did not share the same insight.

“How can you speak such hate speech!” Itachi protested with a small grin. “This is the best music on the planet!”

Kankuro rolled his eyes so far back in his skull that he could almost see his brains.

“You're so weird, Itachi,” he said with a sophisticated sigh, and a shake of his head.

“But that's why you like me so much, right?” Itachi laughed. Then he rolled down the window. “It's so hot in this car, Kankuro.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kankuro grumbled, inching the blue car forward, the light finally turning green. “The AC's busted.”

Itachi sighed. Though the temperature outside wasn't really warm, it was humid. And Kankuro's ancient Sedan certainly wasn't helping much, either. Kankuro had decided that he and Itachi were going out to lunch at the last minute, and had just picked the junior up at his house.

“I could have driven, you know,” Itachi informed him, putting his hands behind his head as the engine sputtered and coughed. “At least my car works. AND the air conditioning is in full working order.”

“Nope. I'm taking YOU out, so therefore, I drive,” Kankuro said firmly. The foot was down, and there was no way around it.

Itachi rolled his eyes.

“You and your superiority complex,” he said, sinking down in the under-stuffed chair.

“Yeah, because you have NO superiority complex whatsoever,” Kankuro jeered, revving around a corner, the tires screeching.

Itachi rolled his eyes.

Men.

“So where are you taking me on this fine day?” he asked, sitting up.

“Well,” Kankuro said. “Seeing as I'm so incredibly poor, I decided that it would be a nice change if I MADE you lunch!”

Itachi almost choked up a lung.

“You… COOK?” he said in astonishment, turning to stare at the eldest Kaze sibling.

“You don't have to sound so surprised!”

“You… you… COOK?”

“Itachi!”

“Is this even SAFE?”

Kankuro fumed silently the rest of the way to his house, Itachi watching him in pleasant, if slightly nervous, amazement. They pulled into the gravel driveway, Kankuro glancing around nervously for any sign of Ryker.

The jet black Jaguar was gone. Perfect.

“My fair lady,” Kankuro said, once he had gotten out of the car, and walked around to open Itachi's door. The Uchiha smirked, and stepped out of the car.

“Kankuro, you're kind of scaring me today,” he said with a laugh as he followed Kankuro into the house.

“Yes, well, my spectacular charm and wit tends to have that effect on people.”

Itachi laughed, and, mirroring Kankuro's example, pulled off his shoes as they stepped into the house.

“Nice place you got here,” he said, looking around. Kankuro glanced back, an eyebrow raised.

“You've been here before,” he said with a laugh. Itachi grinned.

“Yes, well, forgive me for playing the moment,” he said, traipsing after Kankuro to the kitchen.

“You sit… here!” Kankuro said, pushing Itachi down into one of the wooden chairs surrounding the oval table in the section of kitchen separated from the rest by a large stretch of counter. “I'll be done… eventually!” With that, he set off into the kitchen, and began digging around through the cupboards and draws, puttering around the pans and filling one with water, setting it on the stove.

Itachi couldn't hold back a smile as he watched Kankuro worked. Then a thought crossed his mind… a sick thought that made him almost leave the house then and never return.

(you don't deserve him you whore)

His throat constricted tightly, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line, rubbing his eyes.

`No. No. No. I will NOT think that. That's not… true,' he thought, his inner voice sounding weak even to him.

(shameless filth)

`Shut up!' he screamed to himself, screwing up his face, and pressing his fists to his eyes.

But the voice, the evil, lustful, sharp voice that haunted his thoughts and dreams echoed through his

(goddammit I said hold still hold still now slut or else I'll hit you dammit don't think I won't)

(ah please no no no it hurts it hurts so much stop oh stop please)

mind just the same.

“Itachi?”

A new voice, kinder, softer, no hints of lust, but this time, full of worry and curiosity.

“Itachi? Yo! You all right?”

Itachi's head snapped up, and he looked over to see Kankuro's wide brown eyes staring at him, laced with concern.

“Hey! You okay, or what?” he demanded, putting a hand on his shoulder. Itachi resisted the urge to flinch at the touch.

He nodded quickly, rubbing his eyes, and forcing a smile. “Yes, yes, I'm fine. I just had a head ache all of the sudden,” he lied. But it seemed to relax the fellow teen, who shrugged.

“Oh. Yeah, I get those sometimes, too,” he said, before going back around the counter to his work.

Itachi took a deep breath, and shut his eyes gently, leaning back against the chair.

`I will not let you affect me,' he thought firmly, one hand clenching into a fist. `Never. Again.'

Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Helps with stomach pain, and it will calm you down. Itachi remembered this. He tried it, and, to his surprise, it helped. A lot.

“Kankuro, do you need any help?” he asked, looking over to see the back of the apron-covered boy, who was bent frigidly over the stove.

“Nope! It's all under control!” Kankuro said, his tone steely, but slightly hesitant.

Itachi quirked a brow. “Okay, if you're sure.”

“I am!”

Itachi chuckled, then stood, and walked into the TV room. “Then I think I'll just entertain myself for a while, if you don't mind.”

“Yeah, sure, go crazy.”

Itachi sat down on the recliner, and, using the spectacularly handy remote, switched on the television to Jerry Springer. “Oh, I will.”

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It took almost an hour and a half for Kankuro to finish whatever it was he was making. He snapped at Itachi not to look while he was setting out the dishes, so the older Uchiha covered his eyes with a smile. A moment later, he felt Kankuro's hands on his own.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Kankuro commanded, gently pulling Itachi to his feet.

“You got it, Boss,” Itachi said, his eyes shut firmly. Kankuro guided him over to the table, and pressed him down into a chair.

“Okay… open your eyes!” Kankuro said with aplomb. Itachi did, and was beheld with the sight of… Ramen!

`My God. It took him an hour and a half to make ramen,' he thought with a wide grin.

Kankuro had arranged two ramen-filled bowls on either side of the table. He had also added a plate of salad on Itachi side, and two wineglasses.

He picked up a long, green bottle, and poured the bubbling amber liquid first into Itachi's glass, then into his own. Itachi picked his glass up, looking at it hesitantly, wondering if he should drink it.

“Ah… Kankuro…”

“Calm down, Little Miss Perfect,” Kankuro said, sitting down in his own chair. “It's not really wine, just Sparkling Cider.”

Itachi grinned, and took a sip. It tasted good… but the bubbles made him cough.

“Kankuro,” he said softly, looking over at the brown-haired sixteen-year-old.

“Yo?”

Itachi smiled, then stood up, walked around the table, and seated himself comfortably on Kankuro's lap.

“Uh… wh…wha…”

Itachi pressed one finger to Kankuro's lips, silencing him, then replaced the finger with his lips. Kankuro closed his eyes, running his fingers through Itachi's silky locks.

All right, so he couldn't cook. But he could still make his boyfriend swoon.

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I dunno… I think Gaara's the type of person who would wig out if Yashamaru fainted like that… -shrugs- That's probably just me, though.

Yeah, yeah, the interference in the middle with the guy with the baseball bat (I LOVE YA, SOCKS! XD) kinda drained the angst out of the scenes, but oh wells! Comic relief is good! GOOOOD! X)

Augh du lieber! Tayuya could be in some serious trouble! Oh no!

Jesus, poor Itachi. Will he EVEN get over this? LE GASP!

Augh. I'm tired. Hope you all like this, despite the stupidity of it all. I actually liked most of this… oh, who am I kidding? This is probably one of my worse chapters. BLAME MY WRITERS' BLOCK, DAMMIT! BLAME IT!