Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Taking Your Life Back ❯ No More Tears: Let The Rain Rain ( Chapter 14 )

 

“...What day is it?”

 

“...January 25th, isn't it?”

 

I cringed at the answer, my eyes narrowing uncharacteristically, and a clenched fist by my head. He turned back to his book, snacking on a biscuit stick, not really paying much attention to me in the first place. I lay there, across the desk, watching him as he sat their peacefully in himself. My eyebrows furrowed with my overuse of emotions over the past week, and he glanced at me lightly, the biscuit stick hanging from one side of his mouth like a cigarette.

 

“...Something bothering you?” he asked me quietly, sternly. I didn't even move my head to answer. He frowned.

 

“...Naruto,”

 

“-It's nothing,” I answered quickly behind his rising voice, finding myself practically on his lap, sliding my mouth over the protruding biscuit, snapping it in half, and trickily pushing it into my mouth, I walked away with hands stuffed into pockets. He watched me wearily, his frown only growing frustrated as he realized his biscuit had been stolen by his boyfriend.

 

---

 

The day was gloomy; rain clouds collecting themselves in the light gray sky above. The air smelled tense, dirty, and cold, if not freezing to the lungs. One could see the fall of rain to the south, purple haze blowing out from the heavens to collide with the ground. But where I stood; ...It was but a lonely, gloomy, pasty, and all other kinds of dreary words, day so far. It was bound to get worse, by the looks of it, and I kind of appreciated the sky's sentimentality towards us...

 

Because today is special.

 

I kicked out at a trash can lightly, head bowed down in thought as I trudged around campus, not letting the outside world into the equation of my mind. But there was Sasuke watching my every move, his backpack slung over his shoulder while mine sat by his feet, and it led me to awake. I glanced over at him, then to my bag, then back to his smug face.

 

“...What is it?” I whispered, wing howling in my ears, not even letting myself hear me.

 

“...School got out around 20 minutes ago,” he answered matter-of-factly.

 

“...Did it now?” I responded, looking around the empty school. He narrowed his eyes in a threat.

 

“...What's going on? Are you in trouble again? Or is it that man on the phone with you a few days ago?”

 

“...Why care, Sasuke?” I said.

 

“...Because that's what I do,” he said back.

 

We stood there silently for a minute, wind blowing out baggy clothes about. He kept trying to stare me down, and I only retreated from the challenge, kicking out at the pavement, pulling up a little gravel. A strong boney hand clasped my wrist lightly, and I looked up at perfectly furrowed ebony brows.

 

“...Tell me,” he whispered in my ear, his free hand settled tightly on the small of my back. He forced my head to his shoulder, letting me feel alone all over again. I frowned.

 

“...It's nothing to worry about...I'm just thinking too much...”

 

Sasuke tilted his head to my neck, nose nuzzling the juncture. I shivered at the contact.

 

“...Is that true?” he asked seductively. I nodded quickly, blushing against him. He smiled.

 

“...How about we go home...huh?” he gestured to the car and waited for me to follow him. His eyes narrowed like they always did when I did something he should be worried about...That's what I've noticed about him. Before he could ask, I kicked out my feet again, lowering my head.

 

“...I was going to get caught up with Kakaii-sensei...I'm a little behind in work, you know?”

 

Sasuke frowned and crossed his arms, throwing his backpack on the ground beside mine.

 

“...Then I'll wait,” he responded. I put up my hands defensively.

 

“You don't have to wait for me! I'll just walk like I used to! I need more exercise anyway.”

 

His frown quivered lightly, eyeing me suspiciously. He slowly let his arms down, unwillingly turning away and walking to his car without me.

 

I did feel guilty; really, I did. He looked so sad. But I didn't really want him to be there...

 

Only Jiraiya and I, go there on this day; only him, only me, no one else.

 

That way...

 

...The depression doesn't pass on like a disease.

 

The cemetery was located only a few blocks from school, two if I really felt the need to count. By the time I hit the ground from jumping the great steel gate, it had begun to rain. I sent a questioning look to the concrete clouds crying from the heavens, but I turned back to my quest: ...

 

...Finding that tombstone.

 

I found it quickly, as its large form towered over all the others around it. Jiraiya would be here soon, so I would have to make my time quality. I looked down at the faded epitaph, trailing my gaze over it with furrowed eyebrows.

 

“...I know you can't hear me or anything...” I started, kicking at the dirt childishly, “...And I'm acting like a chick from one of those movies, you know what I mean...”

 

I stopped for a minute, seeing as rain was pooling in my eyes, I had to brush it away. No, there weren't tears. I promised I wouldn't cry like that anymore. Rain wasn't an excuse this time, no. I was tired of crying. I pushed the drenched hair from my eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.

 

“...I really miss you, you know?”

 

Rain trickled down loudly, in my ears, and harshly, drops bouncing off the tombstones and myself to give it a bright white glow to the darkness of the surrounding air. The grass had sparkled, at first, but now it was just a dirty green puddle to stand on. My hand wiggled itself into my pocket, cloth sticking to me like a second skin.

 

“...It's so hard to live, now...And I hadn't even gotten used to having you around that long!” I smiled now, my own hand ruffling little drops of rain from my blonde hair.

 

“...Having fun, are you?” he asked, looming over me like this tombstone did with an umbrella over his white head. I narrowed my eyes and snarled my lips. He glanced at me, red lines running down his face, arrogant tattoos. His old white hair had grown to an unnatural length, leaving him to tie it at the base of his skull to trail to his ass, like the women he chased. He wore a suit, a change in his usual lazy attire, and I had to pick nervously at my drenched teenager garb of a t-shirt, feeling a bit insecure. But I shoved both hands into my pocket and turned away from him.

 

“...Shut up, you son of a bitch,” I said to him, glaring daggers in his glanced direction. He pouted sternly with a grunt.

 

“...I'm going to tell your grandmother you said that,” he threatened. I clenched my teeth angrily.

 

“...You haven't spoken to her since you were 25,” I whispered. He turned to me lightly.

 

“...Is that so? Then how old is she these days?” My fists shook.

 

“...She's dead,” I told him, adding a louder tone to my hurt voice. We were silent for a moment, hearing rain patter. He shifted.

 

“...Oh,” he whispered. I stamped my foot childishly, jerking my head in his direction, flinging water around.

 

“Don't `oh' me, you asshole. The only one in our family you've kept contact with is me, and barely at that, even though they wanted you to take care of me. You couldn't even do that. Grandmother died 3 years ago, and I must have been the only one at her funeral. Am I the only one that cares about someone other than themselves? I know you don't. So I guess I'm it, and you're just like everyone else I'm related to. What makes you think you're so special?” anger seeped with every word out of my mouth. He turned to look up at the so-called gloomy weather.

 

“...Because now I'm you're only real contact...Aren't I?”

 

“...To my family, sure, but I don't care about them, or you. And anything that associates with any of you people. You are all heartless stupid-”

 

“...So your father wasn't any different?” he questioned. I took ground steadily.

 

“...My father was my father...He held more power than you, his older brother, and he was still wiser than you. He was almost a perfect being altogether.”

 

“...Almost?” he echoed. I let my head fall, narrowed eyes darting across the soggy ground I stood upon.

 

“...He left us all in the dust...Didn't he?”

 

Jiraiya snorted.

 

“...Well, you keep saying that I'm doing that, as well as the rest of our family, and you say he's somehow superior?”

 

“He had a fucking heart, jackass,” I turned to glare at him.

 

“So do I, or I wouldn't be talking to you, and if you're using it in the sense I think you're using it in, otherwise, I would have either left you to rot in the streets, or kill you right there to stop the suffering.”

 

My eyes grew wide at his remark, and he smiled in a wrinkled upturning of the lips.

 

“...You know who I am, what I can do. And you say it wouldn't faze the family? It probably wouldn't.”

 

I stood staring at him, and I truly wished to hit him in any way means painful. But I only slapped hands over my ears and squatted down to hiss out defensively.

 

“JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”

 

The tombstone was delicately carved in the name of my father, but time had erased it slowly, and now little stood in its stead. I pressed my hands to the back of my neck as I ducked my head between my knees.

 

“...Happy birthday, dad,” I whispered under my breath.

 

“...Is that a friend of yours?” Jiraiya called out of the blue. I jerked to a stand to look behind me.

 

He stood in the rain, umbrella-less and cold. His feet shifted nervously, something I didn't see often from him. His black clothes stuck to him like mine did, sleek and shining in white glow. His ebony hair hung down low, and his usual hairstyle had disappeared, leaving almost a different person. The spiking in the back had dropped, and he looked so much older than he really was, with that conservatively lazy hair. The bangs had fallen to the sides of his face instead of in his eyes, framing his face perfectly. His hands were in his pockets, in that gesture he had learned from his brother, no doubt. His near pitch black eyes stared at me unfazed, barely letting eyelids slip over them for even a millisecond. I stared back widely.

 

“...So you do know him,” Jiraiya stated, turning back to my father's tombstone, taking mind that I'd probably ignore him just as much as he was ignoring me.

 

I began to run to him, grass squishing disgustingly under my soaked shoes. I jerked to a stop before him, and he looked me over with half-lidded eyes.

 

“...This isn't school related, and that guy over there is not Kakaii-sensei,” he told me. I rubbed my bicep nervously.

 

“...Well, I...You know...”

 

He crossed his arms, ready for a story. I sighed and gave him a fleeting look.

 

“...Well...You see, my...My dad, he...”

 

I paused for a bit, trying to collect myself.

 

“...He died when I was really little. Car accident...My mother never got over it, so one night, she got drunk and threw herself off a bridge...My uncle over there is the only one I've got, and I only see him twice a year...So I had to sneak out here to see him...Today's my dad's birthday...”

 

After figuring all the questions were answered, I didn't expect a reply, so I tried to think of something else to say. But he stared at me, slender brow quivering to a worried state.

 

“...Why didn't you just say that in the first place?” his voice was a haven to me. I looked away.

 

“...I didn't really want to explain myself...But I guess I just did, didn't I?”

 

“...Naruto,” but I stopped him, putting up my arms.

 

“I'm sorry! I should have told you in the first place.”

 

“...It's not that, Naruto...”

 

He held out his arms and I accepted them slowly, calmly. He slipped his hands to the small of my back, rubbing it in circles. His head fell to my shoulder, mouth at my ear. Our clothes stuck to each other, and the warmth grew quickly.

 

“...It's nothing, okay? Forget it,” he whispered. I nodded lightly, tightly grasping his shoulder blades.

 

“...How about we just get out of here, okay?” I nodded again, and he slowly led me to his car, towels in tow. I looked back to see Jiraiya, but he was already gone. I wouldn't see him for a long time, and I was disappointed, really, for reasons I didn't have time to think about before we had already taken off into the streets, murky oily water splashing beneath the wheels as we made our quiet and serenely morbid departure.