The sun is too bright, it hurts

Chapter 1

6 years old.

October.

The first time Sasuke sees Naruto, they are six years old.

It's October and the air that surrounds his home and crawls under the cracks in the windows is cold (not as cold as in winter, but enough so that Sasuke has to wear socks when he's getting out of his house). The leaves of the trees are color amber and dance in toasted, golden copper spirals that fall on the freshly cut lawn of his yard.

Itachi is reading a thick-capped book, leaning against the tree that leans against the back fence of his house, and Sasuke runs and jumps on the brown piles of leaves that are stacked around his brother's feet.

Cop, cop, cop. The soles of his shoes tread again and again. Tac, tac, tac. Jump, jump, jump. Puuuf. The leaves rise like flecks of dust and are silhouetted against the clear afternoon sky every time Sasuke's little feet covered in striped socks fall on the heaps. They rise and dance and make noises while the wind carries them away.

"Nii-san, look, I can jump higher than before, look, look." Sasuke runs and jumps and the tips of his fingers carefully touch the almost naked branch that slopes down on the tree. When his feet touch the ground, he smiles proudly and looks at his brother. "Did you see that? The other time we were competing I couldn't touch it, but now I can," he says, bouncing enthusiastically on the tip of his heels.

His older brother looks at him over the worn pages of his book and smiles softly at him, his eyes brimming with affection, and the pride and satisfaction and exhilaration within Sasuke grows and spins and fills him from the tip of his feet to his neck, "Well done, Sasuke," he says.

"Do you think I can reach your record, nii-san?"

Itachi laughs, low, soft and genuine in his throat, and his smile grows. "Of course, Sasuke. Just practice a little more."

Sasuke nods. Practice. Of course. He will practice more and he will make his brother proud. He will practice until he can go beyond his brother's record. He will practice until he can touch the tip of the tree.

.

.

.

It's close to four in the afternoon when the truck arrives. The sun's rays rest on the street and the sky is a mixture of orange, blue, white and gold. Itachi has already gone into the house to finish his homework and Sasuke is still jumping on piles of leaves and running around the fence at the moment when the huge truck stops at the side of his house. It is gigantic, so large that it covers the entire extension of the other house and half of his own. The words Red Chair Moves are printed with red letters on the white surface of one side of the truck.

Sasuke frowns when he sees it. He walks and leans over the fence to look more closely. There is a woman with long, red hair, intense as the fire that falls in waves below her delicate waist, and a tall blond man besides her trying to load several boxes into his hands. The woman seems to be saying something to someone, looking down and talking with eccentric, exaggerated gestures; she doesn't seem annoyed, but she is too energetic, neither his father nor mother would say anything to him or his brother that way, even if it was a scolding. Sasuke moves, but he still cannot tell who she's talking to. Maybe if he moved a little... to the left...

"What are you doing, Sasuke?" His mother's voice comes floating behind him. The footsteps of his shoes on the messy path of leaves crunching under his feet. There is a pause while Sasuke tries to lean a little more. "Oh, so they're here," his mother mutters, stopping right behind him. "I must tell your father, darling, but dinner will be ready soon. Get in the house in a few minutes, okay?"