Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ From Here to Eternity ❯ AIDS from God! Go to Hell, Homo! ( Chapter 47 )

Kat: I feel really bad about this chapter. Not just because it's written poorly, but the content's a little… well, actually, it's not that bad. If you don't like crazy (not to mention poorly constructed) verbal fights, you probably shouldn't go any further.

 

Karene: What? What's happening? What's going on?

 

Sai: Penis.

 

Soriko: WHAT.

 

Sai: I mean, I don't know.

 

Kat: My lord.

 

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! I'd reply, but I want to get this chapter up so I can go to SLEEEEEEP.

 

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AIDS FROM GOD! GO TO HELL, HOMO!

 

Itachi was frozen in his spot, as he stared up at his locker with increasing disgust. A crowd was forming behind him, looking up and gaping like dead fish. Murmurs were beginning to flow behind him like waves. Then, someone pushed his or her way to the front, squeaking indignantly.

 

“Get out of my way, please! Let me through! He-llo? Move!” Haku said, elbowing past a group of seniors, and a boy and girl holding on to each other. He brushed his shoulders off, and glanced up at Itachi.

 

“Itachi? What's wrong?” he asked, following the older boy's eyes. “…Oh… Oh my God!” he said, his hands flying to his mouth in shock. “What… who did this?”

 

It was Monday morning. Itachi had arrived at school at a normal time, dressed in run-of-the-mill clothes, wearing an ordinary expression. Everything was typical, fine, dandy, thanks-very-much. No problems here.

 

But now this.

 

He reached up, and swiped the jagged, black letters with his hand, his eyes narrowing. No dice. It was permanent marker.

 

He briefly considered going straight to the principal, but decided against it. They would notice eventually, and he didn't want to make it look like he actually cared.

 

`They can't know,' he thought. `They can't know they can't know they can't know.'

 

“At least they spelled everything right, huh?” he said lightly, glancing down at Haku with a weak smile. There was some scattered laughter behind him, and the crowd began to break up, the tension forgotten. If Itachi laughed about it, then they could too.

 

Haku gawked up at Itachi, his dark eyes shining with confusion. “Itachi… aren't you angry?” he asked in disbelief, shaking his head. Itachi shrugged.

 

“Hey, it's not like it's true or anything,” he said, scratching his head. “I'll tell the janitor or something later.” He quickly did his combination, and pulled the metal door open.

 

Haku ran a hand through his long, dark hair, and sighed.

 

“Okay. Whatever,” he said, shaking his head again. “You're a mystery, Mr. Uchiha,” he murmured, mostly to himself. Then he leaned his back to the lockers, and said, “While you're in such an ambiguous mood, what would you say if I told you I was thinking about cutting my hair?”

 

Itachi was perhaps more shocked by this question than he had been by his locker. He moved the door so that he could see Haku's face.

 

“…Are you serious?” he said, squinting.

 

“Well… yeah,” Haku said, blushing self-consciously.

 

“Who are you and what have you done with Haku?” Itachi said with a small laugh. He returned to rummaging through his locker. “I think it's a good idea, Haku. If you want to.”

 

“I mean, it's not like it would be that hard,” Haku continued, as though he hadn't heard. He grabbed a small lock of hair, and began twisting it around his fingers. “I wouldn't have to cut it that short… and if I did cut it really short, there are so many styles for short hair! Some of them are actually really cute.” He shifted his weight, and crossed his legs at his ankles, still standing. “And short hair is much more manageable than long hair, and it's much cooler in the summer, and it's much harder to pull-“

 

“Haku!” Itachi said, closing his defiled locker. He put his free hand on the boy's shoulder. “Whatever you want to do is great. If you want to cut your hair, go for it. Besides…” He laughed, and straightened, then said if a very low voice, “I dig guys with short hair.”

 

Haku stared at him for a moment, then burst into peals of laughter. “Oh…oh my gosh, I am so telling Kankuro you said that!” he cried, clapping his hands together. Itachi grinned.

 

“You do and you die,” he hissed. Haku smiled, and straightened up, brushing his hair back behind his shoulders.

 

“All right, I'd better get to class before the bell rings. The halls are always hell this time of the morning.” He yawned and stretched, glancing at his watch. “By the way, nice battle scar,” he said, tapping one cerise nail to his own forehead.

 

“Mm? Oh,” Itachi said, reaching up, and gently running a finger over the large purple lump at his hairline. “Nice, isn't it? It's got me out of basketball until Wednesday. Glad I already got ten practices in.”

 

Haku stared at him, speechless, his eyes glazed.

 

“What?” he said blinking slowly. Itachi reiterated, using a more understandable language.

 

“If I hadn't gone to all ten practices, I would not be allowed to play in the game,” he said slowly.

 

“Oh. I knew that,” Haku said dryly. Then he grinned. “I'll see you at lunch, mm-kay?” Then he flounced down the hall, shouldering what seemed to be insanely close to a purse.

 

“Hey, Fag, nice purse! It got your make-up in it?” Itachi heard a voice call from down the hall. Haku responded by lifting his middle finger towards the owner of the voice, without batting an eye. Then he disappeared into the stairwell.

 

Itachi could help but grin, grateful for the distraction.

 

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“Hey, Kankuro, where's the little Antichrist?” Ten-Ten asked, resting her trumpet against her hip, with a yawn. “I didn't see him skulking around in the halls this morning.”

 

“Gaara's sick,” Kankuro mumbled, not raising his head from the flattened music stand.

“Oh. …Tired?” Ten-Ten noted.

 

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

 

“My pleasure,” Ten-Ten said, before blowing out a B-flat scale with all the air she could muster. Kankuro cringed at every note, the sounds hammering the insides of his skull like a… hammer. But not a regular hammer… one of those big ones that you only used to pound stakes into the ground. Yeah.

 

“Kankuro, are you all right?”

 

“Hammers! I mean, yes,” Kankuro said, sitting up, and rubbing his eyes. He pushed his hat back a bit so he could see the band room easier, and stood.

 

“Okay, people, let's get the lead out! The bell rang five minutes ago!” he said, walking up to the podium.

 

“The bell didn't ring yet!” an irate clarinet protested.

 

Kankuro glared down at him, and he shrank down into his blue plastic chair, staring at the ground. The junior rubbed his eyes, and glared at the clock.

 

He did not understand how Gaara could already be hallucinating so badly. The boy had been screaming about monsters and demons for half the night, until he had lapsed into a painful silence. Kankuro did all he could for his younger brother, trying to comfort him, but…

 

He rubbed his eyes again. It wasn't normal. It just couldn't be. Now Gaara was home alone… was that even safe?

 

Kankuro doubted it, but it was much safer than the school was. But maybe he should have stayed home… maybe he-

 

“Kankuro! The bell rang!” Ten-Ten called from the back row. “Are we doing warm-ups or what?”

 

“Get the lead out, man!” one of the players on the drum line shouted. Kankuro shot him a glare, then rubbed his eyes.

 

Had he spaced for that long? Apparently.

 

“Okay, okay. Ah… E-flat scale, whole notes. And a-one, two, one two three four!”

 

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“I… hate… running… I'm… gonna… die… oh… my… God…”

 

“You know what, Haku? If you hate running… so much, why don't you go and walk… with Kankuro and them, huh?” Naruto barked and huffed at the same time, glaring back at the sophomore, who was practically dying beside him as they ran the track.

 

“I… would… love… to…” Haku panted, “but he's… in… a bad… mood and…” With a strangled gasp, he skidded to a complete stop and groped down in him sweatpants pocket for his inhaler. “Shit,” he coughed, sticking the white plastic tube in his mouth, and punching the trigger twice. He rested his hands against his knees for a moment, trying to regain his breath.

 

“Holy cow! Haku, are you all right?” Naruto asked in a frenzy, putting a hand on Haku's shoulder, then removing it for fear of somehow damaging the older boy's lungs.

 

“I'm f…fine, just kind of lost my… my breath,” Haku sputtered, coughing again, before straightening, and taking a deep breath, tasting the bitter medicine on his tongue, but feeling his lungs clear after a moment. “Gosh darn December air. Always kills me.” He sniffed. “I need to walk now. You can run on ahead if you want.”

 

“No, no, I'll walk with ya for a while,” Naruto said, shaking his head.

 

“Hey, hey, Uzumaki!” a familiar voice called. Naruto rectified, his eyes narrowed.

 

“Yo?”

 

Ten-Ten grinned, her hands on the seams of her volleyball sweatpants. “Race me, Child!” she commanded, pointing to the blonde, her eyes sparkling in the exact opposite of “come hither.”

 

Naruto was itching for a race. But when he looked back at Haku, he sighed.

 

“I can't, Ten-Ten, I'm walking with Asthmatic over here,” he said darkly, jabbing a thumb at Haku, who rolled his eyes.

 

“I said you can run! My Lord.”

 

Ten-Ten had jogged over, and was now examining Haku with sharp eyes. “Well… he seems okay. NOW RACE ME.”

 

“Oh, giiiiiiirls! Having fun, are we?” Shisui Uchiha laughed from the eighth track, slowing to a stop, and grinning venomously.

 

“Shut the hell up, Fuckface,” Ten-Ten shot back coolly, before Naruto could attack. “Haku almost had an asthma attack!”

 

“Oh, the poor dear,” Shisui said, his voice high and mocking. “Do we need to call an ambulance for the pitiful faggot?”

 

“Oh, give it a rest, Shisui,” Haku snapped, gently nudging Ten-Ten out of the way, and looking Shisui over with ease. “No one wants to hear you right now.”

 

Shisui raised his dark eyebrows. “Bite my ass, homo,” he snapped.

 

“Only if you pay me,” Haku shot back, without missing a beat.

 

“Oooohhhh,” Ten-Ten and Naruto chorused. Ten-Ten crossed her arms, and Naruto's face split into a wide grin.

 

Shisui rolled his eyes, and jogged off, the back of his neck red.

 

“Heeeey, nice one, Haku!” Naruto giggled, slapping Haku on the back, and almost knocking him over.

 

“Man. Who says `homo' anymore? Seriously,” Ten-Ten said, shaking her head at such a faux pas.

 

“Yeah…” Haku said quietly, his lips turning down in a frown. He turned, and watched Shisui run. “I wonder… who?”

 

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“One, two…”

 

Craaack, craaaack.

 

(buckle my shoe)

 

“Three, four…”

 

Craaaaack, craaaack.

 

(shut the door)

 

“Five, six…”

 

Craaaack, craaaack.

 

(pick up sticks)

 

“Seven, eight…”

 

Craaaack, craaaack.

 

(shut the gate)

 

“Nine, ten…”

 

Craaaack, craaaaaackk…

 

“Start over again! Ha ha ha!”

 

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“Hey, Neji! You okay?” Naruto said pleasantly, walking over to the sophomore, who was crouched in front of his locker.

 

“I'm fine,” Neji answered curtly, closing his locker, and rising. “Why?”

 

“Well…” Naruto began, crushing his books a little tighter to his chest than really necessary. “I just haven't spoken to you in a while. You know… I was wondering if you were all right and everything.”

 

“I'm perfectly fine,” Neji informed him in the same cold tone.

 

“Oh… okay,” Naruto said, feeling oddly as though he was being shot down. A senior elbowed past him, and he shrank closer to the lockers. “I was wondering… um…” He licked his lips. “You know how your first game is Wednesday?”

 

“Ugh… Don't remind me,” Neji said, rubbing his eyes.

 

“Well… I was wondering if… if, you know… if you wouldn't mind… I could come and watch you play,” Naruto said, feeling his face turn red.

 

Neji raised his eyebrows. “Whatever. I'm not going to stop you.”

 

“Great! I'll see you later, then?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Naruto nodded, then turned, and walked off into the dispersing crowd, his ridiculous orange parka sticking out like a sore thumb.

 

Neji watched him for a moment, pondering on what had brought that little display on, when Kankuro roughly shoved him in the shoulder.

 

“Fuck! What the hell?” he snapped, angry to be shaken from his trance in such a form. “What? What do you want?”

 

“Neji, dude, I've been saying your name for almost three hours. What are you smoking and why aren't you sharing?” Kankuro asked bluntly, crossing his arms, and raising an eyebrow.

“What do you want?” Neji repeated, watching him astutely.

 

Kankuro shook his head. “Have you seen Itachi's locker?” he asked, lowering his voice. He seemed very disturbed, but Neji nodded.

 

“Who hasn't?” Neji asked placidly, starting to walk in the direction of his Pre-Calculus class. “Talk to me, Kaze, or we'll both be late.”

 

“What…? Why didn't anyone TELL me?” he demanded, stumbling after the Hyuga with an undignified air. “Who the fuck wrote it?”

 

“How in the world should I know?” Neji asked, fixing Kankuro with a glare. “Why don't you ask HIM, huh?”

 

“Woah, woah. Touchy, much?” Kankuro noted. Neji shook his head.

 

“Sorry,” he said sincerely, rubbing his eyes. “I just… I haven't had a cigarette in a long time. It's got me kind of edgy.”

 

Kankuro shook his head.

 

“Good for you. Smoking kills. I gotta go,” he said, glancing at his watch, then at the quickly emptying halls. “If you hear anything about the locker, will ya tell me?”

 

“Whatever,” Neji said, shrugging.

 

Kankuro walked off, his hands in his pockets, and Neji just shook his head and sighed.

 

“Fuck this,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair, and hurrying back to room 107.

 

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“Are you kidding me?” Ibiki all but moaned, rubbing his eyes as he read the doctor's note.

 

“I'm very sorry, sir,” Itachi said humbly. “I'll be able to play in the game on Wednesday, but until then, my doctor advised me not to overexert myself on the court. I could re-injure myself and be out for the season.”

 

Ibiki seemed to mull this over, then nodded. “All right, all right. Si'down, Uchiha. You'll have to watch today.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Itachi said quietly, and dropped his bag at his feet, before sitting lightly on the first bench of the bleachers, folding his hands in his lap.

 

He had watched the practice go on for about an hour and a half when his cell phone rang. It was a plain ring, not a fancy ringtone or song, just the sound of a phone ringing. But that sound sent a jolt through Itachi's body so extreme, it surprised even him. He fumbled for the cell phone, and tried to shut it off.

 

“Uchiha! No cell phones in the gym!” Ibiki barked around his whistle, his hands behind his back. Itachi's eyes scanned the caller ID.

 

`Kankuro Kaze.'

 

“Sorry, sir, it's my father. I have to take this,” he lied, flipping the phone open as Ibiki nodded grudgingly, and returned to the practice.

 

“Hang on,” Itachi hissed into the phone, before standing, and hurrying out of the gym. He made sure the metal doors had closed entirely behind him. Then he pressed the phone to his ear.

 

“Hey… what's up?” he said breezily.

 

“Meet me at your locker.”

 

“What?”

 

Then the line went dead. Itachi stared at the phone in his hand for a moment, before shaking his head.

 

“Goddammit, Kankuro,” he grumbled, closing the phone, and walking back through the empty cafeteria, down the hall to where Kankuro was leaning against the lockers.

 

“What is it?” Itachi asked, crossing his arms, keeping his eyes on Kankuro's face, not on his locker.

 

“What the fuck is this?” Kankuro demanded, standing, and pointing to the graffiti.

 

“Well… it looks like someone wrote on my locker. Why do you ask?” Itachi said, shrugging. Kankuro pinned him with a bewildered stare.

 

“Are you joking?” he said, his voice cracking. “Itachi… AIDS? Why would anyone write that you had AIDS?” His voice was low, and almost

 

(terrified)

 

nervous. Itachi shrugged again, and shook his head.

 

“I really don't know, Kankuro. Why would you worry about that?” he asked, blinking slowly, and forcing back a yawn. He was exhausted, and he'd hardly done anything that day.

 

“Haku told me,” Kankuro said. “He told me he thinks Shisui wrote it.”

 

“Well, I doubt that,” Itachi said, crossing his arms loosely. “Shisui doesn't have the intelligence to write on a locker in a different handwriting than his own… and this certainly isn't his.”

 

Kankuro shook his head. “Does that matter? Itachi… why would someone write something like this?”

 

Itachi shrugged again. “Because they're an ignorant asshole. How the hell should I know, Kankuro? You tell me.”

 

Kankuro took a deep breath, and sighed. He linked his fingers together above his head, and turned to stare at the locker.

 

“'AIDS from God,'” he mumbled. “How pretty.” He turned back to Itachi, his face much calmer. “Itachi… I need to know the truth. Why would someone write this?”

 

“I don't-“

 

“Why would someone write this, Itachi?” Kankuro repeated slowly, his eyes cold. “Huh? There has to be a reason. This isn't the first time, is it? You showed me that note… a while ago… remember?”

 

Yes, of course Itachi remembered. He turned red, and looked away.

 

“There've been more, haven't there?” Kankuro reasoned, freeing his fingers, and watching Itachi's face. “Someone's writing this crap, Itachi, and you haven't done anything about it?”

 

“What the hell am I supposed to do, Kankuro?” he hissed, a lump forming in his throat.

 

“Tell me something! Anything!” Kankuro said, pulling off his hat, and running his free hand through his hair. “Tell me what I can do!”

 

“You can't do anything, Kankuro,” Itachi said coldly. “I… Kankuro, I might… I…” He broke off, and covered his face with his hands.

 

(I saw what you did faggot burn in hell)

 

“What? What is it, Itachi?” Kankuro asked, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders.

 

“Kankuro… I might…” Itachi raised his head so that he was staring at the ground instead of his hands. “I might be HIV-positive.”

 

Silence. Nothing but the humming of the soda-machine.

 

“…What?” Kankuro said, his voice quiet and dangerous.

 

“I… I might-“

 

“I heard you, no, I heard you,” Kankuro said, holding one hand up. “How in the fuck did you get HIV?”

 

“I… I…”

 

“Is it from family, or something? I didn't know you had HIV in your family! What-“

 

“I got it from someone.”

 

Kankuro fell silent again.

 

“Did… did you do meth or something?” Kankuro asked, his voice shaking. Itachi shook his head quickly, knowing that Kankuro was dancing around what he already knew.

 

“I got it from… someone. Not from a needle,” Itachi mumbled, gripping his elbows tightly. He was still staring at the floor.

 

“Who?”

 

“Kankuro!” Itachi snapped, surprised. He looked up and held eye contact with Kankuro. “I can't tell you that!”

 

“Tell me who,” Kankuro snarled. He was angry… so angry. How could someone have given Itachi AIDS? “I have to know, Itachi, who?”

 

“I can't tell you,” Itachi said, shaking his head. “I can't tell you. You'll hate me, you will!”

 

“I won't hate you, goddammit, I just want to know!” Kankuro demanded, grabbing the tops of Itachi's arms and squeezing. “Tell me who?”

 

His grip was tight, and it hurt. “Ouch! Shit, Kankuro, that hurts!” he cried, trying to pull away. But he felt drained… he couldn't even tug. “Let go!”

 

“Not until you tell me who-“

 

(scream for me)

 

“O-Orochimaru,” Itachi choked out. He closed his eyes. “It was Orochimaru.”

 

Kankuro ripped his hands away from Itachi's arms, and took a step backwards. “Huh? Did you… did you say `Orochimaru?' You fucked a teacher? And of all teachers… Orochimaru?”

 

Itachi sank down to his knees, dropping his head into his hands. He nodded.

 

The next thing Kankuro said shook him to the core.

 

“Glad I didn't sleep with you now,” the older Kaze said stonily, jamming his hands in his pockets. The Uchiha winced. “You're… you… what the fuck, Itachi? No. You know what? No.” Itachi looked up in horror.

 

“Please, Kankuro,” he begged. “I… you're the first person I've ever told… I can't-“

 

Kankuro shook his head, and started down the hall.

 

“Wait! Kankuro, wait!” Itachi cried, lunging out, and grabbing Kankuro around the knees. “Don't leave me… you can't!”

 

“You screwed a fucking teacher, Itachi. Why? Was it for grades? The top spot on the charts?” Itachi flinched visibly. “Or maybe you just liked the feeling of power,” Kankuro practically spat. He wrenched himself away from Itachi, and said, “You liked it, did you? Power. I can't believe this,” he said, shaking his head. “You're disgusting. Don't talk to me anymore. I don't care if you talk to Gaara and Temari, but as far as I'm concerned, I never want to see you again.”

 

“We weren't even together when I started seeing him!” Itachi snapped, crawling to his feet. Tears were slipping down his cheeks, but he ignored them. “I didn't even know you!”

 

“Fuck you, Itachi,” Kankuro said frigidly. “Oh, wait… Orochimaru did that for me! I've got you figured out, Uchiha. You're just a whore who slept his way to the top.”

 

Itachi gaped, shocked at the low blow. “What the hell, Kankuro? You think I liked it? You think I enjoyed it?” His voice cracked. “You think I wanted to have him put his hands on me, fucking me, night after night, just so I could pass his fucking class? Do you have any idea what would have happened if I'd failed that class? DO YOU?” He shook his head. “No. You don't. Because you don't know me, Kankuro Kaze. You think you've got me all figured out, but you don't.”

 

Kankuro was silent.

 

Itachi took a deep breath. “I love you, Kankuro. I wish I'd been able to tell you before. I've loved you since I… since I met you.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “I still remember seeing you in the cafeteria on the first day of freshman year… and I remember being so jealous of you… I was jealous because you would say and do what you wanted… and you didn't give a damn what anyone else said. Me, on the other hand? I was… a victim of society. I conformed to everything. I wanted to be perfect; I wanted to be accepted. But you didn't care… and I fell in love with you for that.”

 

Kankuro remained silent, so Itachi continued.

 

“I don't even know if I have HIV,” Itachi said. “The doctors are just running tests to see if I do… I need help, Kankuro. I thought I could get that help from you.”

 

“You were wrong,” Kankuro said simply, closing his eyes. “You were so wrong.” He straightened his hat, and looked at Itachi. “Good-bye, Itachi.”

 

Then he left Itachi standing in the hallway, staring at the lockers with a blank

 

(omniscient)

 

smile on his face. Slowly, slowly, he sank back down to the ground, leaned against the wall, and sobbed.

 

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Kat: …

 

Sai: …

 

Soriko: …

 

Karene:…

 

Kat: … Hurr?

 

Sai: Penis.

 

Karene: ARE YOU KIDDING? OMGWTFBBQ.

 

Soriko: They were my favorite couple. -tears-

 

Kat: … Wow. I wonder how I'm going to write myself out of this one.

 

Karene: KANKURO, YOU BASTARD! -bitch slap mode-

 

Kat: Dammit, there's no Sasori in this chapter either…! -kills chapter- All right, all right. Feedback is appreciated, but I have a very distinct feeling that I'm going to get mauled for this chapter… -shifty eyes- `Till next time, fight fans!