1Fight!

Frequency - 97.9 FM

Three weeks since the fight. Three weeks, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes. Naruto glared out the bus window - yellow, bullet holed, stop sign, street sign, stop sign, stop sign - wishing for something (a man with dark hair and uninterested eyes). He needed to fight That Guy again. It was a disease, he lamented, it had to be. No one normal would feel like he would die without a fist to the gut.

"You okay man?"

Gruff voice, affable personality - Kiba, another one of his 'family' and though a year older was about three inches shorter - 'Not short, you guy's is just wicked tall!' He always looked ready to throw down, and they usually threw down together.

"...Just need a fight Kiba."

Dark laughter and the sudden shuttering of the bus as it squealed to a stop. Hot chick in red, two old ladies with thirty bags, some guy who looked homeless - why was he looking for something that wasn't there?

"Your guy'll come back. From the way it looked in that fight he had it in for you too."

And what the hell did Kiba know? Everything went for him like a blasted fairy-tale - white charger, they-lived-happily-ever-after, napkin rings and Chinese take-out tale. Bleh, he wanted to throw up. Why couldn't things be so easy for him?

"- caught in the rug holes."

...Maybe he was being bitter. Kiba had been through the crap-tastics with Shino (starts, stops, silence and sign language) so it really wasn't his place to start waxing poetic about the guy's supposedly easy-esque life. They all had it rough.

"I love goin' up high street. You get all the glamorous people staring at the bus."

Another chuckle, warm and affectionate.

"You mean the spray paint on the side of the bus."

"Either way, I wonder if zoo animals feel like this."

"Like what?"

"Like the stupid faces pressing against the glass are really the supreme predators that locked them up in the first place."

Naruto fiddled with a cigarette in his pocket. Just one quick flick and his sudden nicotine craving – oh the agony - would end. Thank god.

A man with dark hair and uninterested eyes.

No.

He scrambled forward over bags and angry job-comers and goers - 'watch it punk!' 'what the hell?' 'hey, that's my stuff!' - and pressed his stupid face against the glass-plastic.

His heart sped up a pace or two and he felt that weird shakiness that lingers after an adrenaline rush.

"It's him."

Yellow cord in hand, one pull and a shit load of people he don't know would hate him. Shouts and anger, but there's no need to sell himself to them. These people don't matter.

"Naruto!"

Glares, mutters - the bus driver whirls around and hisses like an animal. An animal in a watchable cage, where everyone watches. Except Sasuke.

He's too uninterested to watch.

"Fuckin' stupid chink! Get the hell off!"

Gladly. The back door pops open with a squeak and a groan, people have already gone back to themselves - casual scene interest, 'oh the freaking drama' - opening newspapers and bouncing babies while he jumps 'the hell' off.

Kiba was yelling something in the background.

"Fuck you! Sonovabitch! Why don't you learn how to drive, chalky?!"

Naruto was already pounding the pavement, dodging around - over - men, women, dogs and venders selling things. Good smelling things that he wanted to stop for. But he couldn't, because That Guy was here. Somewhere.

"Naruto!"

One-one thousand, two-one thousand.

And there he was. Like curses and convoluted thoughts had evoked him out of thin air. He walked easily (should be a chore dammit) but even with the supreme air of 'better-ness' - blue blazers, T.A. - Naruto couldn't stop watching. And glaring, and promising.

They were going to sell this fight. Their fight.

"Sasuke."

Naruto knew it was loud enough to catch their attention - That Guy and his posse of friends. A pressure on his shoulder - five fingers, digging deep into his t-shirt, skin - and he knew it was Kiba, but the worry was unneeded. There was nothing to worry over.

They knew each other well, after all.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Screeching, scathing voice - bleeding ears - he winced and scowled at the blonde girl among his clique. Eyes like ice and coated with too much mascara, five sharp fingers clawing into a strong arm. The same arm that had caved his stomach in, spitting blood.

"Hey! Who the hell are you to talk to Sasuke Uchiha?!"

Uchiha.

Uchiha.

It echoed like something viscous - 'gang-bangers,' 'murderer,' 'brother of the demon himself' - clawing away at the inside of his skull. A moment of canvas blank, breath caught somewhere in his sternum.

Uchiha.

He felt the ground beneath him wiggle - a dragon on high street - and choked at the stagnant air. Murderer. Murderer.

He felt the pressure on his shoulder tighten.

Those dark, uninterested eyes found his own. A line of pure sight, recognition flared, a flurry of colored emotion. Anger, respect, something that-wasn't-quite-want, a sick perversion of need. The dragon beneath his feet moved again - wiggle, wiggle - 'the world is much bigger than one fight.'

But it wasn't bigger than his hatred when he heard the name Uchiha.

Uchiha.

And though it was strange, and though it was easily seen, dissected and understood, (but only by one other person) Naruto knew something purely languid - desire, but not the real-world mechanics of it - lit behind his too blue eyes.

It was funny how much was held in a word, a noun, a name.

Uchiha.

Naruto smiled then, tiny curve that was more secret than open, more for one person than for anyone else.

He lifted a straight finger - click, click, shaped pistol, thumb-arced mock-hammer - and took aim at Sasuke. Sasuke Uchiha.

A breath at his lips, a soft split in his seam.

"Yakuza."

And it was funny how with one word all hell broke loose. Dark, uninterested eyes hardened, stony and unapproachable - gang of high-class kiddies that were angry enough to start some shit. It was only him and Kiba, something like 'bad odds' in his book.

"What did he just say!? He offended Sasuke! Kick his ass!"

Such a frequency - glass-breaking-resonance, shatter-crack. Someone should really shove a sock down her throat. An insistent tugging at his collar - 'we gotta go' - and he was being dragged backwards again. Always away from him, but this time it wasn't to the assurance of a smirk.

Uchiha. Yakuza. Now they really needed to fight.

"What the fuck are you ass-heads doing?! Get the hell out of the front of my shop! Can't you read the damn sign? No loitering, means no fucking loitering!"

They cleared out fast, but not without blonde-bitch taking one final pop.

"Yeah, you better run, little punk! You ain't got shit on Sasuke!"

Naruto laughed long and hard, - Kiba starring, 'what the fuck?' - puddles from yesterday's rain spitting upwards to soak their legs. Oh, but he most certainly did have something on Sasuke.

And it was good.

000

"I can't believe that little ass rag! Offending our Sasuke - why, if that stupid old man hadn't shown up I would've clawed his squinty little eyes out!"

Sasuke wondered if the dumb bitch had any idea she was equally offending - 'squinty eyes,' yeah, how 'bout 'boot up your ass?' He didn't know why these people persisted in following him. He'd never given them the time of day - or the hour, the minute, the second really - marking it an infinite conundrum.

As also with the appearance of Blondie.

Yakuza. What the fuck was he talking about? He was no gang-banger - affiliations of blood and everything aside, 'cause even though Neji had a prick family, he was-, well, no, Hyuuga was still a prick really, but other than that - it irritated him to be tagged so. Especially by some no account (talented, stop lying) bumwho got lucky.

"Isn't that right Sasuke? You couldn't possibly know a stupid little fuck like that, right?"

Stop and rewind - he wanted to say 'yeah, Ino, we've actually fucked a couple times and he says he wants to move in with me,' and then flip her off before walking off himself. Damn how he wanted.

But he didn't say anything and they took it how they wanted.

Blue eyes. Kamikaze. He hadn't thought of that boy for a couple days. Planned on going back and all - just for that press of fist and flesh, living, alive, he felt like a damn addict - but he'd run into a few problems.

His brother. He wanted to punch the image of that man out of his mind - make it numb, bloody, tingling appendage where the memory used to be - and forget they'd ever touched the same womb space.

Yakuza. Why the hell did Blondie's words bother him so much? What did he care?

Such an intimate look - flaring blue eyes, anger, envy, want, need, licking velvet hot strokes at the center of him. Like they'd shared more than blood and spit in that circle.

Like they'd shared a fucking life time.

Fuck, he was starting to sound like Neji.

"Leave me alone."

He shook himself of clawing octopus-people with no life of their own, and stalked off – because he rocked like that – in pursuit of bliss. Or a way out. Or perhaps he was looking for a distraction with blonde hair and blue eyes and punches that actually stung – bloody, bright, painful.

000

"Dude what was that about?"

Nothing. Nothing at all. N-O-T-H-

"Nothing."

Kiba made a sound - 'pish,' I-don't-believe-that-stupid-and-you-better-tell-me-what's-up sound - and Naruto wanted to punch him. He wanted to punch something, because That Guy, that fuck, was Yakuza.

He knew a monster when he saw one. Or recognized one, because it reflected in the mirror - 'good job, kid,' 'oh god, no, god...!' - everyday. Everyday.

They said - he knew because he knew 'Them' - a person hates those he is most like.

Hate was as good as love in their separate extremes of passion. And he was oh-so-passionate about Sasuke Uchiha.

Naruto had made his declaration - 'Sasuke,' 'Yakuza' - so now he would wait. Tic-Tock, tic-tock, as long as it took.

"There's no way he won't come."

"...What?"

000

The fuzzy whisper of static in his ear, he did wait, but definitely not for long. One ring, two rings, three rings-

"Neji."

"...You sound unnecessarily chipper today, Uchiha."

"Shut it. Contact scarecrow again and get me a fight for Saturday."

The pause of a five-second stand still. A slightly obscene breathing itched his ears.

"...What's this about, Sasuke?"

"...

...He condemned me Yakuza."

"What?"

"Just do it!"

Click, sputter and die.

Frequency - 102.1 FM

A/N - I'm sorry that took so long, hopefully updates will be more frequent now that finals are over, and let me tell you! This writing might look sloppy and choppy, but it takes a lot of time to get it the way I want. I mean, a lot of it is almost lyrical and with poetry it's usually short because it takes a LOT OF EFFORT to get something to sound and read right. Anyway, hope you like, please review, and the next chapter involves both their fight, and a little ahem one-on-one time with our two favorite boys! Rowr.