Author's Note
Um…man. This took a really long time. Well, this is mighty awkward. Sorry about that everyone. I swear that it will never again.
…Keeping of that promise may prove optional.
I could give you all my perfectly understandable excuses, but that would take up space in the author's note, and at this point that would just be oh so cruel.
Still, it is necessary to lengthen it just a tad for this: reviewers, I love you. I really do. You are awesome people. THANK YOU!
Disclaimer: I am not a man. I am certainly not an artist. I…actually am part Japanese, but I ask you kindly to disregard that. Add up the facts, good sirs and madams, and you shall see that I don't own Naruto.
Chapter Two: Setting the Stage
Maybe Gaara's right, Sasuke mused on his way to his locker after school. Maybe homicide is a viable option.
The Day had finally arrived, and the Uchiha was beginning to believe that he could, in fact, take on the redhead in a one-on-one fight to the death if it was absolutely necessary.
Then again, Naruto had already spoken to his coach and just barely gotten away with his own life, and even Sasuke wasn't quite heartless or desperate enough to make the blond's sacrifice in vain.
But oh, how he was considering it.
His nerves were already shot, and with the impending threat of, well, Gaara hanging over his head he'd made sure to read over his lines until he could no longer see straight the night before. When his sight had failed, he'd moved on to an audiocassette tape.
Yeah. Gaara could be that scary, even to an Uchiha.
Hey, wait…
Poison! Yes! Poison would work! And think of the irony!
The real Romeo would be proud.
Sasuke shook his head absently, rejecting the idea even as he spun his locker combination. He really should've gotten more sleep the previous night. Not that he could've, between his obsessive studying and Naruto's pestering phone calls.
A heinously short skirt and pair of long, fanatically over-shaven legs suddenly entered his line of vision as he stooped to recover a renegade notebook at the bottom of his locker.
"GOOD LUCK, SASUKE-KUUUN!" screamed Generic Fan Girl Number 347. Directly in his ear. At 130 decibels. In falsetto.
A single ebony eye began to twitch.
347, prepare to meet your maker.
Unfortunately, before he could bludgeon said Generic Fan Girl with his ten-pound biology textbook; the offender had already flounced over to join the rest of the Generic Fan Mob. He would've added a "girl" between "fan" and "mob" if not for the fact that, sadly, there were a large number of boys in the group as well.
Damn. He couldn't get them all. They'd have him in their neurotic greedy little clutches before he could finish them all off. And being in their captivity would make the play look like a godsend.
"Sasuke, the auditions are--" began a considerably different voice, and it was then that the Uchiha's single, solitary, and incredibly overtaxed nerve decided to snap.
"I KNOW!" he screamed, throwing his textbook back into the locker and creating a noticeable dent in the metal wall. "I KNOW, already! 'The auditions begin the moment the after school bell rings in the auditorium.' God, Naruto, you've only reminded me after EVERY SINGLE FUCKING CLASS! You interrupted my math class to remind me fourth period, and then you did it again not fifteen minutes ago! Who in their right mind let you out of class anyway? Do you know how many of those idiotic airheads have been chasing me since they found out about your little stunt? I hope you're happy, because after I play the part of your happy little Romeo, you are going to be sorry. There will be fire, and brimstone, and an eternity of pain, and so help me when this over it doesn't matter if your precious 'Sakura-chan' ever does show an interest in you, because you are NEVER having children--" He slammed the locker door shut and realized, belatedly, that the eyes staring at him were not blue, but green.
"…Oh. Hello, Gaara."
"Where would you hide the body?" the redhead pointed out calmly.
Oh, don't think that muted smile went unnoticed, Sabaku. Sasuke made a few mental notes regarding his psychotic acquaintance.
One involved thumbscrews.
"I live in a big house with an underpaid staff," he replied wryly. "I'm sure I could think of something." He frowned slightly. "Where is he, anyway?"
A look of utter disgust flashed across the redhead's face. "With his 'precious Sakura-chan'," he sneered.
Sasuke hauled his bag over one shoulder and began heading reluctantly toward the auditorium, Gaara at his side. No doubt, the redhead was trying to make sure he didn't go back on his deal and haul his ass out of there. Well, damn. So much for that plan. "You really hate that girl, don't you?"
The Sabaku boy shrugged. "She's obsessed with you, remember?"
The Uchiha rolled his eyes. "No, that's why I hate her. What's your excuse?"
"Well, that proves skewed judgment on her part, for starters." He smirked as the dark-haired boy shot him a half-heartedly dark glare. "She's pathetic. He could do better."
"Is she?" Sasuke asked absently. "I don't know much about her…other than she's obsessed. With me. She's number 124, I think."
Gaara snorted. "You should label them. I'm sure they'd be flattered at being reduced to laminated, numbered tags."
"The sad thing is they probably would." He frowned in thought. "Would it really be so bad if he did get her, though? I mean, she'd get a life and he'd…have someone who could actually convince him to see if he needs Ritalin." He raised an eyebrow at the redhead's murderous expression. "…Apparently it would. You haven't looked that pissed since that seven-year-old asked if you were the Antichrist last year."
Gaara smiled darkly in remembrance. "Little Tohru is going to remember that day for quite a long time…" He shook off the cobwebs. "I have my reasons. I'd rather he not end up with someone that shallow. He'd get eaten alive."
Sasuke shot him a suspicious look. "You seem a little too interested in--"
The redhead scowled and pushed him none-too-gently toward the auditorium door. "That, thankfully, is not your problem right now. Go on. You have Judgment Day to face."
The Uchiha stared blankly at the door, wondering when it had bothered to materialize in front of him. "Let me guess. You'll be waiting right here to make sure I don't bolt on you."
The dark smile returned. "Of course not. I'll be in the audience, making sure you make good on all parts of your promise." Gaara shoved passed him through the door, leaving the ebony-haired boy alone with his thoughts.
Sasuke sighed.
"Well, damn."
"Shouldn't we be, y'know, practicing instead of doing this?" Kiba complained, kicking the seat in front of him. Fortunately for all parties present, said seat happened to be empty. "I mean, the music's pretty easy, but it's not that easy."
Shino raised an eyebrow, regarding the dog-lover critically through his dark lenses. "Be honest, Kiba. Were you really going to practice anyway?"
Suddenly, Kiba had trouble meeting the other boy's eyes. "…Yes…" he muttered defensively.
"Similar to the way you were going to do your music theory homework?"
He scowled. "Hey, that stuff's in treble clef, man! Treble clef! That's like a whole different language!" His eyes narrowed. "An evil language, meant for those hammy, self-centered, big-headed dastardly UPPER STRINGS!" He paused and turned apologetically to his left. "Um…but not you, Hinata."
She smiled shyly. "It's okay…"
Reassured, Kiba continued with his rant. "I mean, where do those guys get off being so damn arrogant all the time? Is there something MAGIC about the E string or something? What, so they get all the solos just because they can make people's ears bleed? I could make people's ears bleed if I wanted to!" he screamed.
Hinata and Shino stared at him, speechless. Well, Hinata was speechless. Shino, as always, was merely silent. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, there were others in the audience willing to lend their opinions.
"We know, Inuzuka," answered a voice coolly from several seats in front of them. Sabaku Gaara turned around and shot the boy a pointed glare.
Kiba's mouth snapped shut with a click. He slid down in his seat.
"Mmph," he concluded weakly.
Shino knew the source of the dog-lover's discontent. All right, Kiba had an irrational grudge against the violin as an instrument that the Aburame had never understood, but that wasn't the only problem. The true problem lay in the upcoming auditions, and Kiba's newly found rivals.
In the Inuzuka's eyes, the twins truly were a pair of nuisances.
The twins Sakon and Ukon (family name pending, as Kiba hadn't heard it spoken yet and neither one felt the overwhelming need to enlighten him) were both technically violinists, although as the less skilled brother Sakon had taken it upon himself to invade the viola section, usurping Kiba's position in first chair on occasion as a result.
The two of them hated one another with a fiery passion, and family loyalty didn't help the situation, either.
Shino sighed.
He listened too much. It probably wasn't healthy for him to be more aware of the events of his friends' lives than his own.
"So, uh, why are we here again?" Kiba whispered several minutes later, darting nervous glances toward the reputably psychotic Sabaku.
Shino looked at Hinata. The dark-haired girl blushed deeply.
"I-I wanted to w-watch the auditions," she said softly.
As if on cue, her actual reason burst in through the auditorium doors and flew down the aisle, plunking down next to Gaara.
"Sorry about that, I had to go and wish Sakura-chan good luck!" Naruto told his friend brightly.
Hinata made a tiny squeaking noise, turned an impossible shade of red, and sank down even lower than Kiba.
Kiba, on the other hand, looked at the Hyuuga oddly, sat up straighter, and leaned over toward Shino.
"Is she okay?" he whispered dubiously.
Shino sighed for the umpteenth time that hour.
Sometimes, he hated people.
Neji was invisible.
He had to be. There was no way in Heaven or Hell he'd be standing backstage for the auditions without some form of protection, and he had decided a few minutes ago that invisibility would be it. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and wished really hard it would all go away and be some kind of retarded dream and—oh shit, was that LEE heading his way?
"Neji!" the heavy-browed maniac greeted brightly, clapping a far too enthusiastic hand on the other's back and nearly sending him into the music stands. "This is wonderful! To think that you, of all people, would decide to participate in our wonderful springtime of YOUTH!"
Neji's left eye twitched.
"Don't you mean springtime play?" he asked cautiously.
Lee looked momentarily confused. "Well…I suppose." The confusion cleared before the boy's face lit up in a positively brilliant smile and—oh God! His eyes! Neji's poor, tormented eyes! The crazy bastard had somehow actually managed to blind him with a smile! Was that even humanly possible? "Of course, any chance to express yourself and discover your True Way is a time to celebrate the springtime of youth!"
"Of course," Neji deadpanned. The back of his mind had begun to take a trip down suicide creek and happily tossed away the paddle.
It wasn't that he hated Lee.
…Then again, if he could barely even think that with a straight face, maybe it was.
Still, Rock Lee was far from a bad person; he just happened to be quite close to what Neji considered to be an unbearable person. In fact, he was probably one of the special few that were right on the money.
Lee (or his personality, at the very least) was, in Neji's mind, an artfully aggravating combination between a morning person, a caffeine addict, a stoner, an optimist, and one of those weird cartoon characters from his childhood capable of bypassing all laws of logic. Prolonged exposure, he believed, would eventually lead to shortness of breath, sudden bouts of claustrophobia, seizures, manic depression, and, in a few rare cases, mild schizophrenia.
And then, there was the spandex. Neji usually forewent thinking about that in order to preserve what little sanity he had left.
Yes, Lee was quite possibly everything Neji was not, and the Hyuuga had an unfortunate tendency to dislike things that were not, well, Neji. Alas, this did not save the hapless boy, as his overzealous peer had taken an irrational liking to him and was not one to be easily discouraged. The pair had been seen together so often that the general public was under the impression that the two of them were…friends.
Insert shudder.
"What finally brings you to the theater?" Lee continued brightly, oblivious to the longhaired boy's inner anguish.
"Fate," Neji replied gloomily. Not true, for once, but it was his default answer, and he'd used it often enough that Lee probably wouldn't question it. Okay, he got strange looks every time he used it, but it was better than cheerfully informing the bowl-cut psycho that he was a recovering manic-depressive.
Erm. Right.
Sure enough, the other boy eyed him oddly for a moment before continuing. "I'm sure you'll do well in the theater! It's a wonderful experience! I'm quite good myself, but I have a long way to go before I reach the top. But I will get there, even if I must practice my lines a hundred times! Gai-sensei says, it's just like martial arts, Lee, just keep practicing and you, too, can become a genius of hard work!"
"Right." Neji mentally rolled his eyes. Yes, on top of all that other crap, he had to deal with Lee in martial arts. Oh, he beat the other boy easily, of course, but Lee seemed to think they were in some sort of idiotic competition because of it. As if Neji would ever sink to a level where—hey, wait…
"Gai-sensei?" he repeated. "As in, our martial arts instructor, Gai-sensei?"
Lee nodded enthusiastically. "Didn't you know? Gai-sensei is the drama teacher! Isn't it wonderful? Oh, I was so happy when I found out! A second opportunity to listen to the wise teachings of the great Gai-sensei!"
The electrical impulses in Neji's brain managed a few more pitiful flickers before sputtering out and dying. The gray-eyed boy quietly went into shock.
No way. No freakin' way. Even Fate could not possibly that cruel.
Rock Lee plus Maito Gai plus Shakespeare plus frilly costumes…why was he even still bothering to wake up in the morning?
So it was true, then. Fate really was a bitch.
He was vaguely aware of Lee grabbing his arm and leading him enthusiastically in the direction of their equally crazed instructor, babbling endlessly about how the eerily similar man would be so glad to see that Neji was finally coming around—
"Lee? Lee! Come over here a minute!" A female voice broke through the morbid haze of Neji's mind. "I can't remember where the scripts are. Could you do me a huge favor and grab 'em for me?"
Mercifully, the spandex-clad boy let go of Neji's arm. "Of course!" he called back, and took off like a shot after promising the comatose Hyuuga he'd be back in a minute flat.
Neji rallied enough of his brain cells to orchestrate a heated glare in the direction the boy had gone.
No. Please. Take all the time you need. …And then another five years, just for good luck.
A girl (the proud owner of the voice that had just saved his sanity, supplied some very distant, but working, part of his mind) sidled up to take Lee's place. She flashed him an apologetic grin. "Sorry. You looked like you needed some rescuing there."
"Thank you," he managed, still trying to reboot his poor, abused brain. His eyes focused absently on the girl's rather distracting buns as he did so.
Shut up. They were on top of her head.
So preoccupied was he that he forgot to initiate a proper conversation. …Not that he would have, even if he weren't.
The silence stretched on for miles.
The girl rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground and looking decidedly awkward. Finally, she stuck out a hand. "Tenten," she offered.
The Hyuuga stared at the hand blankly for a moment before shaking it. "Neji."
The few last bits of gray matter started up again, informing him helpfully that he did, in fact, know this girl. She in was several of his classes. He managed to dredge up a few facts from somewhere in the deep recesses.
Ah, yes, Tenten. Smart. Athletic. Unnervingly good at darts.
"You're…in my class," he informed her dazedly.
She smiled shyly, and nodded. "Yep. Erm. Sorry about Lee. He's nice and enthusiastic and all, but boy, does he know how to take it to the extreme, if y'know what I mean." She lapsed into an uncharacteristically girlish giggling fit before abruptly stopping, a horrified expression on her face. "Um. Sorry. Again."
"It's fine." There was an unidentifiable tension there that made him uncomfortable. He couldn't quite place his finger on what it was.
Tenten chewed absently on her lip. "So, what does bring you to the theater? No offense, or anything, but you look like you'd rather shoot yourself in the foot than be here."
Actually, the head would have been acceptable too, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "Apparently, I need a social life," he said bitterly.
She winced. "Ouch. Parental intervention?"
"Something like that."
She flashed him another strained smile, still shifting uneasily. "Well, we've all been there, right? I mean, well, I'm still sorry to hear it and all, but I'm sure you'll do fine. Still, good luck. Although you probably don't need it, because you'll be fine." She paused. "Unless…you don't want to be. I mean, there's nothing wrong with a minor role, and it would mean less social interaction, and I know you hate that—I don't know that in a stalker way, either! It's very common knowledge! Still, uh, good luck…and…yeah."
The awkward silence that followed was thankfully broken when someone chose to oh-so-rudely shove passed the Hyuuga, nearly knocking him off his feet. Neji shot the offender a glare before turning back to the blushing Tenten, and then abruptly did a double take.
"Was that—?" he began incredulously.
Tenten, shoulders slumping with relief at the distraction, followed his gaze. "Wow, Uchiha Sasuke auditioning for a part in the school play? That should be interesting. He's one athletic kid, but I can't see him acting."
"I actually have," Neji muttered under his breath. Wonderful. Lee. Gai. And now, from the deepest bowels of Hell, someone had gone and fished out Uchiha Sasuke. Today, clearly, was not his day.
The girl arched a questioning eyebrow. "Really? What was--"
"Tenten! Tenten, I have the scripts!"
Both of them froze. Tenten nodded solemnly to Neji.
"Make yourself scarce while you still can."
She didn't have to tell him twice. The longhaired boy was gone before she'd even managed to turn around.
Murphy's law, however, was not pleased by his quick escape, and therefore arranged for him to, in his haste, collide with the newest person on his avoidance list.
Ebony eyes widened in surprise.
"…The Hell?" Sasuke asked finally, when both boys had regained their balance. "What rock did you crawl out from under, Hyuuga? And why? You hate this almost as much as I do."
Well, this was new. Who'd Uchiha been hanging around recently? Last Neji'd checked, the other boy wouldn't have given him the time of day.
He rallied himself. "Parental intervention. What's your excuse?"
"Peer pressure."
Sasuke eyed Neji's smirk warily and added coldly, "I have incredibly psychotic peers."
"I'm sure," the Hyuuga assured him sardonically.
Something of a glaring contest proceeded to commence. It wasn't an actual glaring contest, of course; something that immature was beneath both of them.
Technically speaking, it wasn't their fault. Family rivalry had its role to play in their relationship, as both the Hyuuga and the Uchiha clans were old money and closely knit. Somewhere along the line, some offense or another had occurred between clans, and old grudges died hard. Naturally, the actual nature of the offense had been long forgotten, but both families agreed it was the principle of the matter that counted.
Technicality, however, is overrated. The truth of the matter was that both boys were talented, aggressive, arrogant, highly intelligent, and competitive. All that was needed was a spark, and that came in the form of a certain acting school, the name of which neither would ever dare speak ever again. Both loathed all aspects of that school, and yet, despite the frills, the cheap paint, and the blinding lighting, the moment shale met onyx on that thrice-cursed stage each boy tried his damnedest to outdo the other.
That, thankfully, had been years ago. If it hadn't, one of them probably would've been dead already.
If either Gaara or Naruto had been aware of any of this, they would have been elated. Nothing brought the Uchiha's best out like a healthy dose of competition.
Oh, and it gets better.
"Uchiha! Neji! How good of you to go first! Lee, hand them their scripts!"
"Of course, Gai-sensei!"
Both boys whipped around. Neji felt his eyes widen.
…What? How?
Somehow, they had ended up first in line. Additionally, the curtain had opened. His maniacal martial arts teacher and a sad gaggle of students stared out at them from the audience. Lee pressed a pair of scripts into their hands.
Now, the logical explanation would've been that the other, nervous auditioning students had noticed their preoccupied state and slipped behind them in an effort to put as many people as possible between them and the stage. Gai, over eager as he was, had opened the curtain early, and neither of them had noticed because of their, er…not-staring contest.
That was the logical explanation. Neji chose to blame Fate.
Sasuke had other ideas.
"I blame you," he informed the longhaired boy morosely
Neji rolled his eyes in return.
Yep. Definitely not his day.
Author's Note
Oh, Neji. Why was your part so long? This was actually supposed to end somewhere quite different, but Neji just would NOT SHUT UP, and thus do I leave you with something that may or may not be considered a cliffhanger.
…Also, forgive the music humor. I play an instrument and thus, those things tend to happen.
Click the magic button, please. It would make me so very pleased.