Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ From Here to Eternity ❯ K.O.ed! ( Chapter 45 )

 

 

“Kankuro!” Temari said, bursting into the kitchen without warning. Kankuro almost tipped the chair over in surprise, and swallowed the only half-chewed toast, causing massive scratching in his throat. He almost choked, but somehow managed to get it down with a dramatic cough.

 

“Wh…what… wha…?”

 

“Shut up for a second!” Temari said, waving a hand through the air and cutting him off. “I need a ride! Now!”

 

Kankuro looked her over carefully. “And I'm going to give you a ride… why?”

 

“Because I asked for one, dammit! Come on, Kankuro! Emergency!” she exclaimed, clenching her fists. Then she took a deep breath and composed herself, smoothing the sleeves of her light purple sweatshirt. “Please.”

 

“What's the emergency?” Kankuro said blandly, resting his chin on his hands, clearly uninterested in giving his sister a ride anywhere. Temari did all but stamp her foot in frustration.

 

“I need to get over to Ten-Ten's NOW. Tayuya is missing,” she hissed, closing the door and leaning against it. “Gone without a trace.”

 

Kankuro raised an eyebrow.

 

“That's terrible, but I'm not leaving the house,” he said, going back to his burnt toast. Temari paused for a moment to roll her eyes. Her brother was so hopeless he couldn't even make toast, for God's sake.

 

“Why… not?” Temari growled in vexation, her eyes twitching dangerously. This normally would have driven Kankuro to take her anywhere, but today, he was not to be moved.

 

“Don't you want to know what's wrong with Gaara?” Kankuro asked, honestly confused. He looked his sister up and down, as though seeing her differently for the first time.

 

“What's wrong with Gaara?” Temari asked warily, sitting down at the table, and staring blankly at her brother. Kankuro cleared his throat, and downed half of his milk.

“Gaara's skitzo-pills ran out,” he said, swallowing hard, and wincing. Temari automatically glared at him for using such a derogatory term, before everything clicked. “Doc won't give him a refill unless-“

 

“Say WHAT?” Temari snapped, aghast. She leaned forward against the table, her eyes wide. “Are… are you joking? How did he run out of medicine without telling us?”

 

Kankuro merely shrugged.

 

“Anyway… I can't leave him alone in the house, for obvious reasons,” Kankuro muttered, shaking his head. “Can't you just walk over to Ten-Ten's? It's not even a mile away, right?”

 

Temari rolled her eyes.

 

“My God… his pills are out… I can not deal with this right now…” Temari mumbled. “I mean, first Tayuya disappears, and then Zak starts calling me again, and now THIS?”

 

“Wait, Zak called you?” Kankuro snapped, standing. “I'll break his ass in two!”

 

Temari shook her head. She dragged him back down.

 

“First of all, Kankuro, chill. Second of all, Gaara is not going to kill himself in two minutes after being off his meds for a day. Don't be ridi… culous…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting over to the kitchen doorway. “Uh… hey, Gaara.”

 

Gaara was standing in the doorway, his face bearing an irritated scowl. He looked angrily from Temari to Kankuro, before slanting his weight to the side, and snapping, “I think you two could talk a little louder. You think I don't hear you talking about me? God.” He looked at Kankuro. “I'm not a hopeless lunatic; I can be left on my own for ten minutes, you jerk.” Then he glanced over to Temari. “Don't make those assumptions without something to back it up, Temari. What if I couldn't stay on my own for two lousy minutes, huh? Wouldn't you feel bad? Shit.” He shook his head, turned, and stormed back upstairs without a backward glance.

 

Kankuro shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked over at Temari, whose forehead wrinkled in dismay.

 

“Uh… I'll get the keys.”

 

“I'll get my jacket.”

 

 

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 88

 

 

“Has anyone called the police yet?” Temari demanded, crossing her arms, and her legs. She leaned back on the couch, and sighed. Ten-Ten continued to pace back and forth in front of the TV, her hands wrung nervously.

 

“No, of course not. You think that would help?” she asked dryly, looking over at Temari with a shaky glance. Temari sighed.

 

“Not really,” she said honestly. “But, why? I mean, I'm sure they could help us look or something, or put out a missing teen alert?”

 

“They don't care about runaways,” Ten-Ten said darkly, crossing her arms, and shaking her head. “We've got to do this ourselves.”

 

“What do you propose we do?” Temari said angrily, feeling frustrated and upset

 

“The traditional thing,” Ten-Ten grumbled, grabbing her volleyball sweatshirt from the chair. “Look. Are you coming?”

 

“Of course, but…” Temari said, frowning. “Uh… how? You've got your license, but we don't exactly have any wheels.”

 

“We could always walk,” Ten-Ten said, rolling her eyes. “Come on,” she said, shoving the apartment key in her pocket, and nodding. “Let's go.”

 

Temari rubbed her eyes, and dutifully followed her distraught friend out the door.

 

The air outside was cold, and the dark clouds threatened to let loose rain. Temari sent wary glances up to them every few minutes, hoping that they could find something, anything that could lead them to Tayuya soon.

 

They went to several places: Ten-Ten named them she and Tayuya's old hangouts. There was a restaurant that reeked with shady-looking people, a nightclub that was a bar during the day (how they had gotten in, Temari didn't ask), and the City Park. When Tayuya was absent from all of these locations, Temari suggested that they begin asking around.

 

“Just randomly, you know? Ask people if they've seen her,” she said with a shrug. Ten-Ten gave her a skeptical look. “Oh, come on, Ten!” Temari said, throwing her hands in the air. “She's got red hair down to her ass! How hard is she to miss?”

 

Ten-Ten caved quickly, and they began asking every single person they saw if they had seen the girl.

 

“She's about my height,” Ten-Ten said, holding a hand up to her forehead as she spoke to a middle-aged man with a wiry black mustache, “with really long, bright red hair. She's skinny, too. Have you seen her?”

 

“No,” the man said, shaking his head. “But I see you now, Sweetheart. How'd you like to come chat with me?”

 

The man now had a large, swollen bruise below his eye as he limped away from the scene.

 

“She's tall, with long red hair. She's kind of hard to miss. Any chance you might have seen her?” Temari said to a rather frazzled woman pushing a stroller with a set of twins in it. She shook her head tersely, and pushed past Temari down the sidewalk.

 

They had no luck for almost an hour.

 

“What was she last wearing, do we know?” Temari asked, folding her hands behind her head and sighing. “Or… oh, oh my God!” She straightened, and looked over to Ten-Ten, who was sitting dejectedly against the wall, her eyes narrowed with fatigue and exasperation.

 

“Ten-Ten, was she driving the van?” Temari said, pushing her bangs up. Ten-Ten's eyes widened, and she jolted up to her feet.

 

“Yeah, she was! Oh God, she was!” she said, blinking several time to relieve her drowsiness. “Let's start asking if anyone's seen the Monster!”

 

“Pink with a peace sign on the side, right?” Temari said, laughing with renewed vigor.

 

“A maroon peace sign!” Ten-Ten said. “Someone's bound to have seen that sucker!”

 

But again, they had no luck for quite sometime. Until finally, Temari gathered her courage, and asked the cute guy handing out flyers outside the smoothie shop.

 

“Yeah, I seen it,” he said, running a hand through his bleached hair, and nodding. “It was `bout seven, eight this mornin'. She drove that thing down Nidaime Street. Here, take a flyer. Two smoothies fer one.”

 

“Thanks, I'll do that,” Temari said, flashing a smile, and scurrying back to Ten-Ten. `Not smart… doesn't need to be,' she thought, grinning slightly.

 

“Ten-Ten, someone saw it!” she said, shoving the paper into her jacket pocket, and pointing avidly several blocks down. “Come on! Nidaime Street!”

 

“Are you serious?” Ten-Ten said, stepping away from the guy wearing nothing but black leather whom had been shaking his head at the description of the van. “I know where that is! This way, hurry!”

 

They started to run, dodging puddles and old ladies, in the direction that Ten-Ten had scouted. They ripped around corners, and Temari almost killed a small child as she skidded around him.

 

They sprinted onto Nidaime Street, and Ten-Ten jerked to a halt.

 

“Which way, which way?” she said, hopping from foot to foot, glancing up and down both ends of the street.

 

“Uh… I don't… um…” Temari looked left, right, left again, then grabbed Ten-Ten's hand. “This way!” she said, pulling the older girl down the concrete sidewalk, before releasing her hand, and running on her own.

 

But Ten-Ten, being in better shape than Temari, quickly gained the lead in the `race,' and was soon sprinting far ahead the younger girl.

 

It was almost noon, and the street was beginning to fill with the lunchtime traffic. The sidewalks, too, were starting to fill, and it became harder for Temari and Ten-Ten to weave through the crowds.

 

Then, very suddenly, Ten-Ten came to a sudden stop. So sudden, in fact, that Temari slammed right into her.

 

“Ouch!” she cried, hopping back, and rubbing her chin. “Ten-Ten, why'd you stop?”

 

“There,” Ten-Ten said, pointing avidly at an alley, before taking off again, not even slightly winded. Temari dropped her hands to her knees and desperately tried to catch her breath.

 

“That's it…” she wheezed, shaking her head. “When all this is over, I'm joining the track team.”

 

 

55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555 55555555

 

 

TWEEEEE!

 

“ALL RIGHT, LADIES! WATER BREAK!” Morino barked, releasing his whistle from his clenched teeth. Itachi caught the basketball that Shisui flung to him, and set it on the ground, brushing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes. He was tired; exhausted, really. Normally, this wouldn't bother him, but he felt so incredibly drained that he could barely move his legs. This wasn't normal… in fact, he was starting to worry.

 

He briefly contemplated asking Morino if he could sit out for five minutes, but he brushed the idea away like a fly. Morino would sooner die than lets hi “best player” take a break. Itachi sighed, and walked over to the bleachers, masking his limp the best he could. He picked up the water bottle, and drank as much as he felt he could stomach at once.

 

He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and surveyed the rest of his team. They were either standing slumped with water bottles in their hands, or sitting lamely against the closed bleachers, looking like they would rather die than get up again. Shisui was standing, having dumped half of his water onto his face, and was wiping his eyes with the collar of his stained tee shirt. Kisame was sitting, massaging his knee, and wincing. Sasuke was standing, his arms crossed and breathing hard, but unwilling to let it show. His Gatorade was lying despondently on the ground next to his designer tennis shoes. Neji was leaning against the bleacher, looking hot and harassed, his face bearing a scowl that could rival Sasuke's. Kiba Inuzuka, along with many others, was lying on the ground, gasping for air.

 

Itachi shook his head, before pouring some water into his palm, and mopping it on his wet face with one clammy hand. He wished he could collapse like that Inuzuka… just lay down and fall asleep. But he wouldn't. Not with so much work to be done. He took a deep breath, and tried to clear his head, which was hurting again.

 

God. He was falling apart.

 

“ALL RIGHT, MAGGOTS! BACK ON THE COURT! WE'RE GONNA SCRIMAGE!” Morino snarled, spraying everyone within a twenty-foot radius of him with spit, Asuma included. “LINE UP SO WE CAN DIVIDE YOU INTO TEAMS!”

 

There was a scramble back onto the floor, no one wanting to be the last one back in fear of Morino's fury. The ex-marine stalk up and down the line of boys, directing each to a spot on the floor. Left side, or right side, until the only ones left were Neji, Itachi, Shisui, and Kisame.

 

“You four are without a doubt the best players we have,” he began, his hands behind his back. “So. Hoshigaki, Hyuga, you two over there. Uchihas, you over on the other side. Let's go, ladies, I haven't got all day!”

 

Itachi heard Shisui stifle a few nasty retorts before they separated to their sides of the gym.

 

Meanwhile, Sasuke was steaming.

 

`Of course,' he thought bitterly. `Itachi's the best player on the fucking team. Itachi the point guard. Itachi the starter. Itachi the favorite! I think I'm going to kill someone.' He squeezed his arms until his nails began to dig into them, and he shook his head.

 

“All right, maggots! Itachi and Shisui Uchiha, Lee, Inuzuka, and Abumi, you're on court! Hoshigaki, Hyuga, Yusuke Uchiha, Kinuta, Ayatsuri, you're on!”

 

“It's Sasuke,” Sasuke said darkly, resisting the temptation to spit in his coach's face.

 

“Which one?” Sakon and Ukon said at the same time, looking confused.

 

Morino contemplated it for a moment. “Sakon,” he finally barked, before blowing his whistle again. “THE REST OF YOU ON THE BENCH! LET'S GO!” He tossed Asuma a ball.

 

Shisui, Rock Lee, Itachi, Kiba, and Zaku quickly took their places on the floor, with Sasuke, Kisame, Neji, Dosu, and Sakon on the opposing side. They took their places around the circle, with Shisui and Kisame taking the jump.

 

“All right, guys, let's keep this clean,” Asuma said, giving both Kisame and Shisui hard stares, before holding the ball out with one hand. He placed his whistle in his mouth.

 

`This is it,' Sasuke thought. `I can prove I'm better than Itachi… or at least as good. I'm gonna make Varsity if it kills me. Or him. … Better him.'

 

Shisui and Kisame both took crouched positions.

“Best of luck, friend,” Shisui said through clenched teeth, looking Kisame in the eye.

“Same to you, buddy,” Kisame shot back.

 

`God I'm so tired,' Itachi thought, rubbing his eyes. `I hope I don't fall over… I might not get up…'

 

`Wow, Hinata sure looked pretty on Friday,' Kiba thought dreamily, his eyes wandering off into space. `I should tell her. In fact, I think I will! … As soon as I figure out what to say! …What am I doing again? Oh, right, basketball.'

 

Asuma blew his whistle, and hurled the ball into the air. Shisui and Kisame both shot into the air after it, but Shisui was tall, and his hand reached the ball first. He flung it back to Itachi, who caught it and curled over it until the rest of the team was back up the court.

 

And so it went, on for over an hour. Itachi tried to block out all of the noise in the room, his headache and fatigue gaining a staggering foothold as he passed, shot, blocked, and named plays. He wanted to go to sleep… But he drew the thoughts from his mind and tried to focus.

 

The game was dirty. Morino let the fouls slide, and both Shisui and Kisame were on the court. Sasuke's ribs were soon so bruised and sore, it was hard to breathe. But he wasn't going to ask for a break. No… He would tough it out, so Morino would see that he could. This was his chance; the spotlight was close to him for once! He would do it, damn it all, he had to.

 

Morino subbed in very sparsely. Itachi stayed in the entire hour… hour and a half? He'd lost track of time a while ago. He wasn't just tired, now. He felt lightheaded.

 

`Suck it up, Uchiha,' he thought, rubbing his mouth as he dribbled slowly down the court. He raised one finger into the air, signifying play number one.

 

He snapped the ball to Shisui, who got open quickly, leaving Kisame far behind as he sprinted up out of the three-point range. He shot the ball for the hoop, and it bounced up off the rim, down into Lee's hands. He put the ball up again. By then, Itachi had shoved his way into the group. He leaped up for the rebound as the ball again bounced off the rim, but his forehead met what felt like a brick wall.

 

Suddenly, he was on the ground, his vision blurring white.

 

“Holy shit, Itachi, you okay?”

 

“UCHIHA! WHAT HAPPENED?”

 

“Itachi, can you feel your legs?”

 

“Itachi! Itachi, get up!”

 

“I'm not up?” he said numbly, blinking until his vision cleared. He tried to sit up, but suddenly everything went black.

 

 

444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444

 

 

“Did you call the hospital?”

 

“Yes, of course. And his parents.”

 

“Itachi? Hey, I think he's waking up!”

 

Itachi was suddenly very aware of his surroundings. He was lying on the ground, and there was something very cold on his forehead. He tried to reach up to push it off, but his arms felt too heavy to lift. So instead, he forced his eyes open.

 

“Sasuke?” he croaked, his voice raspy.

 

“What?” his younger brother said, ever polite. Itachi closed his eyes again, and found enough strength to sit up. He felt something fall from his head into his lap. He looked down to see a blue ice pack, which he grabbed with one hand. He reached up to his forehead with the other hand, and lightly ran his fingers over the golf ball sized lumped that was forming. He winced, and gently placed the ice pack in its proper place.

 

“What happened?” he said, glancing around at the team, who had formed a ring around him. People were coming in off the court, where apparently they had been running a drill as he slept.

 

“You blacked out,” Sasuke said simply, with a shrug. “You're fine.”

 

“Mm,” Itachi murmured, closing his eyes again, and turning, so that his back was against the bleachers. “How long?”

 

“Ten minutes,” Kiba said, staring at Itachi in amazement. Or was it pity?

 

Itachi chose to block out the stream of voices that began to assault him, until a minute later, the paramedics arrived. They briefly asked Morino and Asuma a list of questions, before checking Itachi over.

 

How are you? What exactly happened? How long were you unconscious? Have you ever blacked out before?

 

Fine. I don't know. A few minutes, apparently. I don't think so.

 

Then they took him to the hospital in the back of an ambulance, just like that. He couldn't remember what had happened in the last thirty minutes; it was all a blur. Suddenly, he was in a doctor's office wearing one of those awful robes, sitting on the high bench thing, and waiting. He gingerly touched the lump, and winced. The office was small and cramped, and the lights were too bright. The walls were a pasty blue color, and the floor was off-white.

 

The door opening made him jump. He looked up to see a balding doctor wearing slacks and a button down shirt, with a nametag ID. “Doctor Kurabo.”

 

“Hello, Itachi,” Dr. Kurabo said cheerfully, with a smile.

 

“Hi,” Itachi said, trying to be vocal. He wasn't going to a pass out again. He hoped.

 

“I understand we had a little bump on the head during practice,” the doctor said, sitting down on a stool, and crossing his legs.

 

“That's what they're telling me, Doc,” Itachi said, leaning back. The doctor laughed, and marked something on the clipboard.

 

“Were you drinking water during practice, Itachi?” he asked. Itachi nodded.

 

“Oh, yeah. I wasn't dehydrated, if that's what you're thinking. I just got hit too hard on the head,” Itachi said quietly, shifting slightly uncomfortably. Dr. Kurabo marked something else on his clipboard.

 

“Tell me, Itachi,” he said, looking up at Itachi's face. “Have you been feeling faint, or tired in the last few weeks?”

 

“Well,” Itachi said. “Yeah. I guess. I haven't been sleeping too well.”

 

Mark.

 

“Have you been eating well?”

 

“Not really. I haven't had much of an appetite.” Itachi winced at the weakness behind his words.

 

Mark.

 

“I understand you're quite popular at your school, Itachi. Have you… I hate to ask this,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “But it needs to be asked, unfortunately. Have you been having sex with any girls?”

 

“No, sir,” Itachi said, shaking his head.

 

Not with girls.

 

Mark.

 

“What about with guys?”

 

Itachi chokes. “Wh-what?” he sputtered, slightly in shock. Could they ask a question like that?

 

Dr. Kurabo merely watched his face carefully, his eyes blank, but not cold. Itachi sighed, and glanced at the door.

 

“You can't tell my parents this, right?” he asked quietly. “I mean, this is all confidential.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Itachi bit his lip.

 

“Please, Itachi. I need to know this stuff, despite how dumb it may seem,” the doctor said softly.

 

(it would be nice to tell someone)

 

“Y-Yeah, I had sex with a guy… but… I'm not seeing him anymore,” he said, running a hand through his hair anxiously. He hoped his wasn't blushing… he could feel his face heat up.

 

Mark.

 

“Were you safe?” Dr. Kurabo asked placidly and casually. “Did you use protection?” Itachi sighed.

 

“Sometimes,” he said darkly, now very uncomfortable. Sometimes; fancy for `never'.

 

Mark.

 

“Was this an older guy?” the doctor asked, glancing up at Itachi, who refused to meet his gaze.

 

“Yes,” he said shortly.

 

“How much older?”

 

“A lot older. How is this relevant, if it's not to rude to ask?” Itachi snapped, crossing his arms.

 

“It may not be,” the doctor said, making another mark. “At least, I hope it's not.”

 

“Then are you quite finished?” he asked, feeling hot and bothered, and wanting to go home and crawl into a hole.

 

“Almost. We need to get a blood sample for testing so we can send you home,” the doctor said. “The nurse will show you where to go… You can get dressed, now.”

 

Then he walked out of the room, leaving Itachi to stew in his own embarrassment.

 

5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555

 

Itachi had never had a problem with needles. The blood drawing was done quickly and efficiently, that he was thankful for. It hurt, yes, but it didn't scare him. His parents had brought extra clothes for him, so he could shove his practice jersey and shorts into a plastic bag, and not have to wear the disgusting, sweaty rags around the sterile, clean hospital.

 

Not even a half-hour later, he was sitting in Dr. Kurabo's office, with Heisuke on one side of him, and Keiko on the other. Keiko was looking quite nervous, and Heisuke, merely annoyed. Itachi chewed his lip again, wondering what was taking so long.

 

The office had a nice, homey touch to it. The walls were dark brown, mimicking paneled wood, and the floor was a lighter shade of brown. The lighting in this room wasn't as intense as out in the patient area. There were bookcases along the walls, and one of the walls was half-covered with framed diplomas and documents. The desk itself was covered with papers, and had three pictures on it. One of what appeared to be Mr. Kurabo and a woman with horse-like teeth, along with a teenage guy around Itachi's age, maybe a little older, and a girl who could have been in seventh or eighth grade; she was wearing make-up, but not well.

 

One was of two men on a golf course, and one was Dr. Kurabo and the teenager again, this time at a football game, flashing thumbs-up signs to the camera. Itachi smiled weakly, feeling nostalgic for a moment, and wondering if he would ever have a moment like that with his father.

 

Finally, Dr. Kurabo entered the office. He walked around the desk, and sat down, setting a folder down in front of him.

 

“So what's the news, Doc? Is my son gonna die, or what?” Heisuke said pleasantly. Keiko rolled her eyes.

 

“Itachi is okay, right?” she said pursing her lips, and crossing her legs at her ankles.

 

Dr. Kurabo pulled off his glasses, and sighed.

 

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Uchiha, we're going to have to run some more tests before we know for sure, but-“ he began, before Heisuke cut him off.

 

“But what? What's wrong with my boy?” Heisuke snapped indignantly. Itachi was perfect. There couldn't possibly be anything wrong with him.

 

“Let the doctor finish, dear,” Keiko said quietly. Itachi just watched the doctor, who caught his gaze for a moment, before opening the folder, and scanning its contents.

 

“Again, we'll have to run some more tests before we can be sure.” He shook his head. “Really, we're testing the blood for everything. But the main thing we're looking for… Well, of course, we can't be sure, but there's a distinct possibility that there might be…”

 

He paused, not to draw out the apprehension, but to choose his words carefully. Finally, he decided to just come out and say it.

 

But when he said it, Itachi was sure he was going to faint again.

 

“We're testing Itachi's blood for… and really, we think he may have the HIV/AIDS virus.”

 

55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555 55555555

 

Kat: Holy crap! I did it! I transitioned! Expect another update really soon!

 

Soriko: … What the shit, woman?

 

Kat: -dances- I did it, I did it, I beat the Writers' Block! Yay! Review! I update faster!

 

Soriko: What… how…? Bah.