Bruises & Bitemarks (SasuNaru)

31.

When I manage to make a little space in my thoughts, it's to find everything dark and a ceiling above me and my bed under my back and the sheets up to my waist and Sasuke asleep pressed against me, his head in the crook of my neck. In a moment of panic I imagine heat, skin, sweat and passion and hormones; but no, we're both quite surely wearing the same clothes we were in last I checked, and nothing seems out of place. Nothing but the fact that I blanked out between Sasuke kissing me and now.

No alcohol, no drugs. No, that's wrong – Sasuke is my drug. I can get drunk off him; I can drown in his sweet taste and enticing touch, let myself sink into his hold and respond to his every move. I'm addicted; I went into withdrawal then came back to my usual amount, and I overdosed. And now I'm thinking in extended metaphors. Maybe Sasuke can use them in his writing.

"Kit. Hey, kit."

I sit bolt upright, heart suddenly pounding. I press a hand to my chest, breathing hard, willing myself to believe I didn't just hear what I thought I did.

"Oh, I do so love denial. Go on. I'm not here at all, that's all you have to tell yourself."

"No," I breathe. "No, no."

"No, I'm not here, or no, you're not in denial? You know, I've been trying very hard to reach you from down here. Ever since yesterday when Yukio crossed your mind, I got a sudden spurt of energy somehow. Good thing, too – for me anyway."

"No!"

"No what?" comes Sasuke's sleepy voice. He sits up.

I grab his hand; pain flashes in his face, but I can't work out how to fix that, my mind is so preoccupied. And Kyuubi's voice distracts me further: "Well, go on. The Uchiha always did know how to help you, when he wanted to help you at all."

I shove my fingers in my hair and stare as hard as I can at one spot, trying to stay still so that my mind will do the same.

"Naruto?"

Terror swells once again. "Sasuke – what do I do? I can't – I—"

"Calm down," he says firmly. His hands grip my shoulders and he forces me to look into his eyes. They're so commanding that I deflate like a balloon. "What happened? Tell me."

Unable to manage more than a whisper, I choke out: "Kyuubi."

His reaction terrifies me. Sasuke always knows what to do; Sasuke's always confident and never afraid. He can't do this to me. No. Please, no.

"What?" he asks, his tone urgent. "What happened?"

"He talked to me. I'm awake, Sasuke! I'm awake and I'm not standing in front of Kyuubi's cage, and he didn't even have to call me – he can talk to me! I can hear him now – he's – he's laughing. He's laughing because I'm panicking..."

Sasuke stares at me as though all his fears have been confirmed. "Naruto..."

"What?" I snap, then regret it; I don't want to get mad at Sasuke.

He frowns, troubled, and glances away. "You want to know why I was avoiding you?"

Now really isn't the time, but I stop to listen anyway.

"You're going to hate me for saying this," he says.

"I can't hate you."

"I really don't want to say it, but... Ever since Kyuubi started calling out to you, I've... Naruto, I think you might be schizophrenic."

This takes me so much by surprise that I jump to my feet. "What?"

"Don't shout," Sasuke says, voice pained. "Please."

I can't keep my voice down, but I don't want to anyway. "That's why you've been avoiding me? You think I'm schizophrenic, so you think you can help me by avoiding me?"

"I – Naruto, I was... I was afraid—"

"Afraid you're dating a schizo?"

"No," he says, "I was – the idea scared me, the thought that you might be – that you might be mentally ill. I was afraid for you. I really, really hope I'm wrong. Naruto, demons don't exist."

"So, what, you think I'm crazy?"

"Schizophrenics aren't 'crazy,' Naruto."

"They hear voices and have delusions! Are you telling me everyone's having the same delusion, Sasuke? Because everyone knows the Kyuubi was sealed into me, and you were the one who saw the way my eyes turned red when I got angry, and I don't know how you're even going to begin to explain my nails and teeth and those scars you've still got," I snap. "Great folie-à-deux we've got going here. Did I grab a knife and slice you open? Did I stab Yukio in the wrist and take steroids and beat up all his friends at once? And I guess we've got everyone in the whole town convinced, too. They even celebrate the made-up event of sealing a huge nine-tailed fox into a fucking baby's stomach!"

"That... I don't know, Naruto. I just..."

"You're trying to explain too much by normal means, Sasuke. Demons aren't a part of your life, but this one's a part of mine. It's always been, and it always will be. You think I believed Mizuki-sensei when he spilled four years ago? I thought he was crazy! And now you think I'm crazy." I laugh, not out of humour. "Fine! Call me crazy, call me a schizo, whatever you want. I don't care, I don't fucking care. I don't... I won't hold it against you – I don't care what you think, Sasuke, I... can't... I can't hate you..."

It's only when my throat constricts too much to continue talking that I notice the tears streaking down my face. A strangled sob racks my chest and my vision blurs and I suddenly lose all will to stand. I fall into strong arms, cling to a warm body, cry on a comforting shoulder. I pour out all my anger and confusion and loneliness in the one person I can trust most, the person who wouldn't talk to me because he thought I was crazy, the person who subdued my rage against him by seducing me. He's stupid and manipulative and selfish, and I love him.