We Three

Chapter 9: The Start

We Three

-so convoluted; where is the end and where is

The start.

...

"Fine. I knew just me being here wouldn't be enough, so I'm prepared to take heavier measures," Sasuke's voice filters through the layers of Naruto's consciousness as he rolls out of bed to find a decent pair of socks, "I'll begin to pursue you properly,"

Ludicrous, is what it is. Absurd.

Naruto glares- confused, and delirious because it ismuch too early for this kind of thing- at them. They are intruders on his kitchen table, and he hates them for making the room seem a little brighter, making the scent of the air a little too much sweeter. He woke up to Sai making his morning tea as usual, but what was different was the table. Or, what was (is) on the table in the center, glowing in the morning sunlight like a beacon of good-will and romance.

"There's a card," Sai says dispassionately without turning around from the counter. Naruto doesn't blame the man for being so irritated and distant. Ever since Sasuke showed up, hanging around the shop, following Naruto's every step like a puppy or a very annoying leech, there's been an obvious gap between them- Sai and Naruto.

The blonde goes through mood swings- moments of bliss and happiness because he can't get over that Sasuke is here for him (Here for me; he's finally looking at just me), chasing after him; and moments of crippling, spiraling torment because he's spent so much time trying to build something that is outside of the all-consuming force of Uchiha Sasuke only to be thrust back into the magnetic pull again (no chance of survival). And he takes it out on Sai, unintentionally; being all flowery and nice, then growing cold and ignoring everything around him.

Naruto reaches for the extravagant bouquet sprawling out on the table in a mass of leaves and petals and vines and the smell of honey to where he can just barely see the corner of a little yellow card. He opens it.

To: The Sun

From: A lowly mortal

You have got to be kidding me, he thinks with an exasperated moan and a flush of blood to his face that makes his throat feel prickly, recognizing the neat cursive handwriting of one aforementioned Uchiha Sasuke. This isn't like Sasuke at all. He isn't romantic, cheesy. He doesn't send flowers and compare someone to the summer like some cheap Shakespeare rip-off. Pursue me properly, Naruto snorts.

Maybe he's like this for me. Maybe he's romantic and flustered and unpracticed for me.

Naruto grabs the overflowing bush on the table, ignoring the protest in his mind and heart, not caring if he yanks the tablecloth with his hastiness, and forces it down the narrow trash bin underneath the sink. Bright yellow sunflower petals scatter at his feet, the only evidence of his violence.

Again, Sai only watches, distant most likely dut to Naruto refusing his sexual advances the night before, and for some reason the flowers fill Naruto with a desire to weep, as if they are the flowers of a tragic funeral (Our funeral, he thinks sadly).

"I could have...," Naruto whispers hoarsely, watching the stems of the flowers struggle with being bent so far in such an awkward position, "I could have loved you, Sai,"

"Naruto, you don't have to-" Sai's voice catches.

Could have.

"I know I could have," the blonde repeats, hiding his face in his hands because his eyebrows and mouth are crumbling into helpless whimpers, and Sai makes a sudden movement away from the stove like he wants to reach out for him, but stops after just a second and stares down at his shoes- just as lost, hopeless.