Forgot this the first time.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Naruto.
WARNINGS: Shounen Ai and mild language
Here I am; typical teenager with a typical, high school lifestyle. I'm a seventeen year old, no nonsense, guitar playing punk, but please; don't stereotype me.
You see, I'm a big fan of the movies. Chick flicks, thrillers, high-speed-action-packed spy get-ups… Anything can get my juices going in the movie world, but for me, horror's where it's at. Now recently, I've had one of those big, never-noticed-that-before revolutions. You know how, in high school films, they've divided students into overused cliques? Of course you do. You've got your, ever so commonly named, 'Plastics', 'Nerds', and 'Jocks'. You may be going "Duuurh" right now however, it may be because I've been born and raised in Britain, but no school I've been to actually has those stereotypes.
Right now, it all seems to be about the 'Gangsters', 'Rockers' and the 'Smart n' Quirky'.
At least, that's what it's like in Konoha High.
Here, those groups are sub-divided into even more groups, and then maybe split again! And call me a teenager, but I think I may be hitting a mid-life personality crisis with all these people screaming different things at me.
So. I'm a punk in the sense that I can stir up a lot of trouble, but am I a Mohican headed type of punk?
I'm not sure.
But I know one thing for certain.
Sasuke is my best friend.
Don't laugh, you fuckers. I'm having a sentimental moment.
Sasuke's a guy who'll stick by me through thick and thin, and oh! Here he comes now.
"Eyop, Sasuke!"
"Hello," he raised a straight palm in greeting, keeping that cool, bored look on his face.
"So. Got any plans, today?"
"Oh yes, of course. We're going to knock down this old vent here," he smacked the little grey box in the wall twice, "crawl through it on our hands and knees and emerge out the other side into the girl's changing room where we'll sneak around, stealing all their sexy, little panties on the way."
"Prfffggh!"
If this was any other guy, I probably wouldn't have been spraying saliva all over my shirt sleeve, holding in my laughter. But this was Sasuke. The guy with no facial muscles, oh and did I mention?
He's the gayest man ever to walk this earth.
He comes up with this stuff everyday, and I still find it as funny as fuck. God, I'm an easy-pleaser.
"And…prff… And then we'll hole ourselves up into that there corner of the cafeteria and sniff the delicious scent of pleasure juices and menstruation, right?" I gave a suggestive smirk, nudging his elbow.
His face remained as dead-looking as ever.
"No. Then we'll hole ourselves up into that there corner of the cafeteria and I'll fuck your brains out."
This made me pause for a fraction of a second.
Don't get the wrong idea here! Sasuke has not got the hots for me. I mean, come on, that's just not the way it works, right?
"Then we'll sniff the delicious scent of pleasure juices," he continued.
I suppose he noticed that slight freaked-out vibe coming off me. It happens a lot. He'll say something that I'm not so comfortable with, but he'll sense it and step back behind the boundary, usually by making me laugh like an idiot. Not that I really mind when that happens, but it really does show a nicer, underlying side to that lovely crude-humoured Sasuke that I see everyday.
"And menstruation?" I asked, looking hopeful. I had every urge to add a sugar-coated 'Please!' to that.
Saying that was sort of my way of forgiving him, saying "It's okay. I still love you (as the bestest friend anyone could have, mind you.)".
"And menstruation," he confirmed, giving a nod and a smile.
I beamed, great and big and grabbed his hand, skipping through the lunch time corridors, "Come now! Let's frolic through the flowers!"
I dragged him outdoors into the school grounds where indeed, there were flowers, but sadly, we weren't going to frolic through them, not today and probably not ever. It will always remain just a distant dream…
That is, if those big groups of people decide to hang out by those just-dying-to-be-frolicked-through-flowers forever. I mean, I don't want to sound like a complete wuss, but I really hate being judged, especially by seven different cliques of people simultaneously. Living out my dream would surely induce that.
You see, by the daisies, you have, the self-named 'Nerdwhores'. You know what I'm talking about, right? Those people who wear super thick-framed glasses, beige tank tops, button-up shirts and red ties, in all their nerdy glory, and yet, manage to think that it's appropriate to slip on a pleated tartan skirt that's fucking ten inches long!
That's the same size as Sasuke's di-
"So, when're we gonna get down to some frolicking?" Sasuke's enquiring voice disturbed me from my thoughts about his… phallus. The bastard even had this look on his face that told me he knew I was thinking something terribly naughty about him.
"Never," I sighed. "You know how I feel about…" I paused, gesturing to all those different people around us with a flappy motion of my hand, "…them."
And he did know. I don't even remember when we got so close to each other, but I've poured my heart out to him a couple times, and he knows all about my silly insecurities.
"You're an idiot, Naruto," he said in all truth, looking up at the sky through the leaves of the oak tree we had settled under.
That's what I love about Sasuke. He was one of those few people who didn't give a fuck's ass about what other people thought. Every time I remember that, it makes me wonder how I got to be so lucky to nab him as my best friend in the whole fucking world. It also makes me wonder why he still bothers to hang about me, when I constantly whinge about my fear of being judged every second of the day. I know he's trying to get me to forget about everyone else, and I know he's awfully right, but I really, seriously, can't bring myself to just drop the thought that everyone who looks at me has the potential to assume things about me they never even know. I annoy myself, and that's bloody pathetic.
"God, we look like such losers," I murmured, resting my head against the trunk of the tree to join Sasuke's observation of the sky. "Are we ever gonna get bigger than just the two of us?"
Sasuke blinked up to the clouds.
"Do you ever want it to get bigger than just the two of us?"
No. I don't. I want Sasuke to just be my friend. Why did I even ask that?
It felt like I needed to make an outburst, a "No! Of course not!", but all I could manage was a shake of my head.
"Well if you ever do, maybe those Japanese freaks over there will welcome you into their wonderful world of manga, brightly coloured hair and peace, slash victory, hand signs." He half-smirked, and I knew he understood.
I breathed a chuckle, deciding to ignore the fact that he had indirectly implied he wouldn't be coming along with me, or at least, I had inferred that.
"Sasuke, you are Japanese, and you know you are stereotyping, and you know I hate that…" I paused, but decided to add one last thing. "Fucker."
He gave a single chuckle. One of those "Heh" chuckles that made his shoulders bounce, and the conversation died out into comfortable silence.
I took a look at all those people surrounding us.
On a bench by some tree, there were the supposed 'Gangsters'… oh, I'm sorry, I mean 'Gees'. They sat there, the guys with clothes that were five sizes too big, and the girls with clothes that were five sizes too small, listening to some heavy bass music blaring from one of their mobile phones. The guys sat there with their legs spread a metre apart from each other, each one of them with an arm around some girl who was chewing gum, and they all gave hard looks to anyone who would give them a second glance.
If I belonged to any clique, I certainly didn't belong with them.
I looked over at Sasuke with his tight drainpipe jeans, his hooded top from Skeleton Crew, which gave the illusion you were looking through his flesh and at his ribcage, his studded belt that he wrapped around his slim hips, and the line of eyeliner under his black eyes.
He looked pretty cool, didn't he?
"What?" he asked with his gaze still up at the clouds.
"Nothing," I said, as innocently as I could. "Just wondering how emo you look."
He said nothing, but the middle finger he raised up in my face said it all.
I chuckled again.
You must be wondering why Sasuke doesn't hang around with all other 'emo' kids in our school. To be honest, I'm wondering too. It's times like these when I realise that Sasuke's way fucking cool. Too cool to hang around with some insecure dork who has trouble being himself at all times.
I mean, I know everyone always tells you to 'just be yourself'. But how can I do that when I don't know who I am?
Fuck, this is getting too deep for me. Philosophical shit is Neji's shit, not mine.
Well, I guess if people were to look at the way I dress and the music I listen to, they'd probably label me as an emo. And really, I feel for all those supposed emos out there. Lately, it's automatically assumed that if you've got a side fringe, tight jeans and listen to a certain kind of music, then you cut yourself. And people hate you for that.
To me, that's fucking ridiculous.
Personally, I think emos are pretty, y'know, hot. I mean, just look at Sasuke! Not that I'm calling him emo. He just looks like one… but does that make him an actual emo?
What the fuck defines emo anyway?
And what am I? A Japanese freak? A punk? An emo?
My GOD! This is getting way out of hand. I promised myself I wouldn't get into this whole debate.
But really. Sometimes, I do wonder if I'll ever be truly happy with what I am, once I find out who I am.
…
Oh my. I do believe Sasuke's gay charm and Neji's philosophy has rubbed off on me, because that is, by far, the gayest, most philosophical thing I've ever thought.
I think I need to give that whole personality crisis rant a rest. I'll just try my best to spend time with Sasuke, I guess. He's the one guy who can make me forget about all those things.
"Hey, Sasuke."
He turned to me with a look that said nothing.
I curved my hands and put them together to make a heart, putting it over my left breast. I gave him a big, fat grin. I wasn't serious about this crap. I guess you could say I was mocking those who did it, but that isn't exactly the right way of putting it. It wasn't making fun of them.
I suppose only Sasuke could understand the attitude I had behind it.
He actually laughed out loud a little, said, "You sentimental fucker", placed his left breast over my hand-heart and whispered in my ear, "Love you too".
Even though I can feel it through my flesh, through my t-shirt, through my fingers, through the thumping in my brain… My heart isn't beating hard and fast. That's not the way I'm supposed to react.
Fuck! Please, heart, stop pumping blood faster than you should, you're making me flustered. Stop making me feel this way about my best fucking friend! Stop before you give me more to worry about. Please!
He was stepping way over the line this time, and I'm pretty sure he knew he was. He's getting quite brave these days. But did I really mind this?
And thank god Sasuke moved away before I could even think about what my feelings had grown to. That bastard looked down on me with a smug sort of grin, almost like he knew exactly how I was feeling. Shit, I hope he didn't.
"Gay yet?"
I gaped a little.
Then growled a little.
"Sasuke, you fucker!"
Alright, so. Reviews will, of course, be appreciated greatly, but this time, I'm writing this story more for myself than for anything else, so this will get continued, with or without twenty reviews, or however many writers are bribing for these days.
Though, perhaps they will help me update faster…
Bribe? Yes, please.