Epidemic
Chapter 6: Lotus
And with this chapter, the story of Epidemic is complete. I have so many people to thank but I'd rather get on with the story—you know who you all are, anyway. Thanks for staying with me on this wonderful cracky adventure!
April 14th
Tsunade walked in through the doors of the hospital, smiling at the people she passed. Everyone waved or called a hello to her as she walked through the ward, checking on her patients and taking care of their needs. She had a short conversation with those who could, let them know how they were doing and what she had planned for them sometimes; sometimes she just joked around. Seeing them laugh and smile brought her hope.
Humming, she took the elevator up to Long-Term Care, and found her way to a certain room. The walls inside were covered with get-well cards and there were no less than three vases full of flowers on the bedside table. And the occupant of the room was sitting up, reading a book, and looking healthier than ever.
"How are you doing today, Neji?" she asked brightly. It was nice to see his color was coming back, and his silver eyes that had been dead and dull only a month before were now full of life again. He set the book down and smiled at her.
"I'm fine. When am I going to get out of here?"
"When the doctor checks you off. There's still a risk of secondary infection."
"I can take medicine just as easily at home as I can here." Neji scowled. "This place is driving me insane."
"Don't become an axe murderer and we'll call it even." Tsunade grinned as she sat next to him. "Do you think you didn't drive me crazy, walking the line between death and life?"
Neji plucked at the sheet with his fingertips. "I still want to get out of here."
"I understand. It won't be long now, okay?"
"Yes, Dr. Hisano."
"Hang in there, kiddo," she said affectionately. Tsunade would miss him when he finally went home, but at the same time, she'd be glad to see him get back to normalcy.
On the way out, she ran into Itachi coming out of the elevator. He nodded calmly; another welcome change from his edginess when his lover was sick.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Hisano," Itachi said politely.
"On the way to visit him?"
"Yes. When will he—"
"I'm the wrong person to ask. But it won't be long if he's back to being prickly like he is. Go on with you, now." She watched his back as he walked down the corridor, and smiled as she got into the elevator. It was going to be a good day.
She found a quiet young man sitting in her office when she got back down to the ICU ward. He had a sketchpad out and was quickly covering the paper with a beautiful portrait of Sakura. Leaning over, she watched until he stopped and looked up.
"It's Sakura to the life," she said encouragingly.
"I am not so sure," Sai said, studying it with a critical eye. "I don't think I put her forehead in proportion. It's rather large compared to—"
"Don't finish that sentence, Sai," an irate voice called from the scrub room. Sakura walked out with her hair in a ponytail. Tsunade had the strangest notion that she'd continue to dye it until she breathed her last, but shrugged. Pink hair fit Sakura more than her natural mousy brown. She was getting off shift, and hung up her plain blue outfit on the rack.
"I am sorry, Sakura," the artist replied and closed his pad, putting it away neatly in his bag. "But you do—"
"Hush," Tsunade said. "Enjoy your date tonight, you two." Their hands laced, they walked out. Smiling, the doctor sat at her desk and worked on the day's reports.
On the desk next to her computer were an abundance of pictures; ones of Orochimaru, Jiraiya and herself as children and teens; there was one of Naruto and Hinata at a beach nearby, silhouetted against the sunset; one of Sasuke after he'd won the race that had nearly torn his relationship apart, with Orochimaru standing proudly at the horse's head. In the place of honor was an eight-by-ten of all of them, plus Hiashi, standing around Neji's bed after he'd been transferred out of ICU. They'd all looked tired, and at that point Neji had still been sickly-looking, but was well on the way to recovery.
About an hour later, Itachi knocked on the door and let himself in. Tsunade looked up from the screen.
"Yes?" she prodded.
"We just wanted to let you know that they cleared Neji for discharge. I'm taking him home."
"That's wonderful! I'm sure he's overjoyed."
"Massively." Itachi's expression was dark. "He didn't like it here."
"The only people who do are the doctors, and we're all insane to begin with." She smiled. "Take him home and treat him right, will you? And come visit every so often. I've become fond of the brat, and you."
Her eyes might have just taken that moment to fail her, but Tsunade could have sworn a tiny, secretive smile flitted across Itachi's lips. "We will, Dr. Hisano. Goodbye."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Neji hadn't walked very much over the time he'd been in the hospital, and although his body would never forget the how, it was more than possible to be a little shaky after long periods of laying around in a hospital bed. After slowly walking out of the hospital, he got the hang of it again and was only a little wobbly on the way from the car to their apartment. It still took most of his energy away, and once inside he collapsed heavily on the couch. The apartment looked freshly cleaned (were those vacuum-cleaner lines on the carpet?) and everything was neat, and while he knew that his lover liked things organized, he didn't think that he'd had the time. Itachi caught his confusion and shrugged.
"My brother's one of a pair of neat freaks," he said. "I can take you to the bedroom if you like."
"I'm fine here." Neji looked around the apartment again, and saw that there was a stack of movies on the table—the same ones they'd planned to watch when he'd gone into the hospital. Nodding his head toward them, he smirked a little. "Aren't those a little overdue?"
"I said we were going to watch movies that night," Itachi answered with a shrug. "I don't lie."
They spent the rest of the night curled up, watching one movie after another. By the time the last one spun itself out and the first light of dawn had cut the sky, they were asleep.
May 15th
The phone rang, and it was obnoxiously loud. But, being half-asleep as he was, he mistook the phone for the alarm clock and brought a pale hand down on that instead. All that accomplished was knocking the thing to the floor.
Finally, his brain engaged and he fumbled for the phone, grabbing it out of the cradle and thumbing the TALK button.
"It's damn early," he growled into the phone. "This had better be important."
Graduation?
In half a second, Orochimaru was out of bed and fully awake. It registered that at some point he vaguely remembered Sasuke nuzzling against him, saying something about going somewhere, and then burrowing back into warmth and sleep, but ever since he'd taken leave from BioCon he'd been more inclined to sleep in. It felt good to wake up in a sun- and lover-warmed bed. "How much time?"
Enough.
"Thank you for the reminder," he said, and then hung up. It was a drive to LA, and he needed all the time he could get.
By some chance, he made it just as the graduates were walking in, and sat down in one of the two empty seats in the row as though he was only fashionably late and had meant it all long. Of course he had.
Neji sent a pointed look at him. "You're late," he whispered.
"I noticed."
"Where's Sasuke?"
"He'll be along."
Neji scowled disapprovingly and turned to watch. Orochimaru had never liked graduation ceremonies; he found them too showy and optimistic. Perhaps he'd just grown chilly over the years.
The diplomas were given out alphabetically by last name, he discovered.
Somewhere between L and M, Sasuke sidled into the room and quickly took the last seat in the row. Several sets of identical glares shot his way, but he gracefully ignored all of them. They applauded politely (the students and some of the faculty who knew him cheered) when Itachi walked across the stage and took his diploma, looking very serious and accomplished. His Bar exam was set for later that month, and then pending his passing score he would be accepted as one of the team of lawyers that the newly-expanded Hyuuga Shipping Corporation, West Coast Branch, employed. His starting salary would be very generous indeed.
That evening, Itachi and Neji went out to a party thrown by some of the other graduates; Fugaku and Mikoto went back to Pasadena. And Orochimaru and Sasuke had their own private party at their house. The older man was a surprisingly skilled cook, and it had been far too long since they'd sat down like this and had dinner together. Their nights lately had been going out somewhere, clubbing (something Orochimaru found amusing despite the fact he was twice the age of most people there) or doing something else. The first week had been quiet, mostly, finalizing travel plans and getting life back on track.
When they'd finished cleaning up, it was late, and Sasuke murmured that he was going to bed. Watching him walk, Orochimaru smirked and put the last dishes into the dishwasher, started it, and followed him upstairs.
About a year after the whole thing had finished, after Neji had had his last checkup and after the remaining cases were cleared and the blood supply treated with a vaccine created from a gay man's blood, Jiraiya sat outside an internet café in Rome. He loved Europe, and was delighted to know that his old friend had enjoyed his stay here as well—although he found it surprising that he'd made it out of the hotel room with the kid who seemed to be everything he'd ever wanted.
Nice to know Tsunade had found her spark again, too—he'd been worried for a long time about her. Her loss of faith had been long in coming, but he'd had some things to do and had to leave right when it was getting worse. And God knew Orochimaru was no help at all, wrapped up in his DNA and his lab coats and mad scientist trappings. They were an eccentric group, the three of them.
And that blond kid, Naruto—he had talent that his father hadn't. His father knew people, sure, but Naruto could stir them up. His father had never been able to inspire—which was probably why Naruto had taken to that Hatake kid.
It was a big web, Jiraiya thought. Layers upon layers, each generation a copy of the next, but with corrections and changes. They were all connected, especially by this sickness that had threatened them all. And about that…
Chuckling to himself, the professional blogger logged into his blog service and wrote an entry he'd been thinking over for the past year, ever since he'd met the tight circle of friends and family that had been involved. Some things needed to be said.
And that's how it was. Neji got stronger over time and when the fall semester started and he resumed a normal class load, no one but those involved would have never known he was sick. But a brush with death doesn't always leave physical marks; more often than not, everything is purely mental. He graduated, went on to business school, and ended up heading the west coast division of the Hyuuga Shipping Company—proof that family traditions could be overcome.
Itachi passed his Bar with flying colors and became an outstanding lawyer, working out the details of policy with whomever the company needed him to, and taking on other cases when his services weren't needed. About two years after the ordeal was over, he and Neji became partners for life. To this day, they wear simple silver bands on their left ring fingers.
Sasuke became a full police officer in record time. He took to it like a fish to water, finding his own fulfillment in administering justice and keeping the peace—both of which placated Fugaku, who upon Sasuke's taking the oath as an officer said that he had two fine sons. Sasuke continued to race and breed his horses using the knowledge he'd learned on his trip to the Babolna stud, and Snakeskin Ranch became one of the premier Shagya Arabian studs outside of Hungary.
Orochimaru finished his research on the aging gene after returning to BioCon a much more relaxed and focused man. It turned out to disappoint in the areas of extending lifespans, but it provided valuable insights into the mechanisms of aging. He published a paper on it with Kabuto, and the two of them went around the world giving presentations. But never again did he forget a race or a holiday, and he was always home on time.
Tsunade continued her practice with new fervor, and helped sponsor Sakura through medical school. The pink-haired doctor moved to Japan to live with her boyfriend—and then husband—Sai, and opened her own practice. She e-mailed weekly.
Naruto and Hinata got married after they graduated, and Naruto moved back east with her. She got her teaching credential and became an elementary schoolteacher in New York; he became the mayor. When his term limit was reached he said he wasn't done messing with the state just yet, and became governor.
So everyone lived happily ever after—as happily as can be expected, anyway. Everyone was healthy and had most of what they wanted, and everyone was loved in some way, and that was all that mattered.
Blog entry: Lotus
Posted by: insight
2007-7-7
What an auspicious date! Something good's gonna happen to all of you today, I know it. You'll get laid, you'll find a $20 in your pocket, you'll figure out the answer to a tough problem on your homework…
Or someone you love who's in a coma will wake up.
Or someone will say "I'm sorry, I was wrong. May I have another chance?"
Or someone will say "I love you."
Miracles happen every single day, I said once. All we have to do is pray hard enough—but that's not just it. Prayer, hope; these are empty without hard work. And there are hundreds, thousands, millions of people who make miracles every day. And it's never, ever who we expect, is it? We don't expect miracles, nor should we, because more often the miracles we experience are helped along by people.
These people who make miracles are as normal as you or I. They have issues, they have mental problems and personality traits that are annoying; they make faces that are unacceptable in society; they fight with their loved ones. They're pigheaded, strong-willed sonsabitches. Or just bitches, for the ladies. They're not arriving on a magic carpet. They're not galloping up on a white horse—unless you live somewhere that doesn't use cars for transportation, or they don't own a white Mustang. And they sure ain't saints, but they deserve to be, for even though they often don't realize it they do things that are so selfless and beautiful that it makes me want to cry.
They're the people we take for granted. They're always there, but you never really see them. They're the strength behind your voice; they're the little nudge that helps push you to do just that little bit better on your work. They're the shoulder to cry on. We often take unfair advantage of these people, because they're so selfless they'll bend over backwards to help those they care about (they'll whine about it, but they care for their friends).
Find these people. Tell them you appreciate what they do. And look for your miracle.