Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Ju-On ❯ Part 6 ( Chapter 6 )

Sorry for being late. I won't give an excuse. Don't see the point anyway.

Here's the next chappy.

JU-ON 6

"You're back."

Iruka lifted his head that was lolled heavily to one side. His arms were held above his head, wrists and hands tied with the familiar black straps, along with his waist. He could hear someone shift comfortably behind, though on what, he didn't know. He coughed out painfully when he felt the straps squeeze him tight again. His throat was already too raw and too sore to even produce any sound.

"Do you know why you're still here?" The cold voice asked, and Iruka felt fingers caress his aching back. "Because you've not completed your end of the bargain." Iruka gave out a small whimper of protest as the cool fingers continued ghosting cold silky touches on his shoulder. The straps around him tightened and blood came spurting out of his mouth. "You'll pay with your life, boy. The longer you take, the more pain you'll feel. They will never stop haunting you."

"W-W-Who?" Iruka managed to choke out, shutting his eyes tight as more blood oozed out his mouth in dangerously huge amounts.

"Those who carry the same grudge as you do." The voice whispered. "Kill him. Kill him now! Kill him!"

"No!"

XXX

Iruka sat up wildly, gasping for breath and feeling the burning hot sensation around his waist, torso and arms like those of what the black straps felt in his dream. Almost unconsciously, he hands came to his lips, which were dry. He was expecting them to be wet with blood.

"Oi." Kakashi said. "You were screaming in your sleep."

Iruka couldn't answer. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to face his dream again. He didn't want to hear the cold, haunting voice reminding him of what he said years ago due to childish anger. Surely a stupid illusion of the mind was not going to make him actually kill the boy. He loved Naruto. And it was just the stress taking its toll.

He brought a hand to his face and rubbed it tiredly. He was thankful it was Sunday and the day was going by while he had so much work to do. There was laundry to tackle, house cleaning, quiz marking and homework checking. He felt too tired to do anything.

"Are you feeling cold? It's kind of warm in here." Kakashi said.

Iruka was shaking like a wet chick. He was feeling cold and afraid. How could a dream have such an impact?

Maybe because it felt so real.

Slut.

Iruka shook his head to himself, clearing any silly thoughts. "Concerned, are we? Oh, I'm surprised. I didn't know you cared." He said in a low sarcastic voice.

"You need a vacation."

"Yeah." Iruka said. "I need a vacation from you." Kakashi was not impressed by what Iruka said and he showed this by narrowing his eyes.

"What is it you really want, Iruka?" Kakashi asked, voice deepening in a way in which those who heard never really lived that long either. "Love? A real meaningful relationship? Cuddles like in romance books? What?"

Iruka shakily got to his feet. "I just need some sleep."

"Yeah, right." Kakashi said, crossing arms across his chest. "You are one stubborn whore to crack, you know that?"

"Then go find yourself another whore. Simple as that. The door is that way."

"Shut up!" Kakashi snapped and lashed out. Iruka found his head facing one side, his cheek stinging. "Shut up. You're pissing me off." He growled and pinned Iruka on the wall, burying his face in Iruka's neck, while his lips nipped at the soft, already kiss-bruised flesh.

Iruka didn't care anymore.

He was nothing to him anyway.

XXX

Iruka was lying on the bed motionless as Kakashi emptied himself inside him once more. He was staring at one spot, unseeing. When Kakashi pulled out, and settled on his back beside him, Iruka mechanically sat up and began to gather the clothes around the room, placing them in the laundry basket. Kakashi watched him with half-lidded eyes as he made his way to the laundry room and sorted the pile of clothes into colors and whites. He poured the detergent powder into the water and set the timer, watching as the clothes spun in the whirling piece of metal of his washing machine. He wanted to change the bed sheets but it was going to be pointless since another round of sex that night was just going to soil them again.

Still, he didn't want to lie on a dirty, sex-smelling bed.

Prostitute.

He hugged his knees to his chest, resting his head on top of them as the constant and steady whirr of the washing machine filled the laundry room. He could smell the soapy scent of detergent tickling his nose. He still had to iron his uniform and wash the dishes. Plus he needed to get some lunch prepared.

Standing up, he padded for the kitchen and checked the fridge. He had nothing worth cooking up for a decent meal. He would have to order some take out. He padded to the bedroom to get his wallet. He found Kakashi leaning against the window, staring at the drizzling atmosphere outside. He found his wallet by the side table and grabbed it, stuffing it into his pocket. He made no effort to say anything to Kakashi who was now looking at him, expecting a comment of some sort, but he got none.

As Iruka passed by the mirror on his way out, he froze. He could have sworn he did not see his own reflection. Shivering at an invisible cold, he felt fear grip his heart and all courage just leak out of him. He couldn't bring himself to look in the mirror again.

He rushed out of the apartment, without an umbrella, and headed for the market to get some food.

XXX

The market did not have many fresh greens that he planned on buying. Since it was already the middle of the afternoon, it was pure logic that all the good things were sold in the morning and with the rainy season constantly on the roll, there were not many farmers in the country that could produce good quality greens.

He ended up getting canned food from the grocery store and few protein-based products. He wasn't very keen on eating beans, but it was the result of him stalling grocery shopping and spending more time in bed getting screwed by a certain Jounin.

Whore.

Shifting the weight of the bag in his hand, he made his way down the quiet street, the rain pouring and drenching him to the core.

"Should have brought an umbrella." He mumbled and cleared the itching in his throat.

His vision began to get a bit cloudy and the itching in his throat got worst. He brought a hand to cover his mouth as he took a turn into one of the dirty alleyways on his way home. He leaned against the brick wall and began to cough, his ribs starting to ache from the violent wracking of his lungs. He spat on the ground, seeing that his saliva was stained red. Fear gripped him tightly once more and he ran down the street towards his home as fast as he could, the taste of copper thick on his tongue. He fumbled for his apartment keys, his hand shaking so bad that he couldn't get the key to enter the keyhole. A loud click boomed in his ears as he managed to turn the lock and slam the door shut behind him. He dropped the grocery bags in the kitchen, leaving a trail of rainwater as he rushed to the bedroom to get rid of his soaking clothes. He changed into drier clothes, tossed the soaking ones into the bathroom, not caring where they fell, and headed for the laundry room. Once inside the small room, he began to catch his breath. He counted till ten to calm himself down a bit, until he felt that his heart pumped back at its normal pace.

He thought of going to the Hokage and asking her for some medicine that could help or maybe a little check up to see what was wrong with him. He told himself to think about it. Taking in a shaking breath, he padded for the washing machine where his whites were now ready to be taken out and hung out to dry. He went to fetch the laundry basket and crouched in front of the round glass door of his washing machine, reaching inside to take the contents out. He did it mechanically, taking out underwear, vests, house clothes, towels, etcetera while he looked at the sachet of detergent powder in his other hand, struggling to open it with one hand.

"Damn sachet. Ugh! Open already!" He grumbled, taking out another pair of underwear. He reached in again and grabbed another piece of white fabric that felt quite heavy, just like a towel. He frowned and grunted, pulling the fabric some more. He cursed a bit, and tried to get a better grip of the piece inside. His fingers brushed silky strands, like nylon, and he frowned. He managed to get the sachet open and set it down, just as he managed to give the stubborn heavy piece of clothing inside his washing machine a strong tug out. A bumping noise made his eyebrows crease in a frown and he turned to take an annoyed glance at the stuck piece of clothing in his hand.

What he saw instead was a head staring at him upside down, the white, wet fabric of what should have been a shirt or gown tightly gripped in his hand, along with strands of dark colored hair. His eyes widened as the head tilted back, and dark red eyes and a snarling mouth with a sick looking, mouldy tongue hanging out faced him. Iruka attempted to let go of the neckline and hair that he was gripping, but cool, long-nailed hands grabbed his wrist, making the cry of fear choke in the middle of his throat.

"Iruka." The mouth said, saliva dripping down the pale cheeks and on to his floor. "Iruka!" The voice shrieked, while the face's eyes widened, showing him endless pools of red. Blood began to drip from the washing machine and onto the floor, crawling towards Iruka. The saliva that was dripping on the floor was now also stained red and Iruka let out a shuddering gasp as blood began to dribble down the wide-open mouth, the mouldy tongue now beating against the pale colored lips. "Iruka!" It shrieked louder.

Iruka shut his eyes and finally let loose the scream that was building in his throat.

TBC

Ah well. There you go. I couldn't stand looking at our washing machine after rereading this. >.<

Edited by b4-k4 girl! Sankyuu!