Rise

AN: This story exists because I wanted to write a dream, and I wanted to write a dream because I listened to a song called Ára Bátur by a band called Sigur Rós. It is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. The title of the song means 'rowing boat'. That is where the boat came from.

I hope you like it.

Rise. Wash. Dress. Books. Backpack. iPod.

Bus. School. Smile. Chat. Tolerate. Lunch.

Smile. Chat. Tolerate. Seminar. Leave. Bus.

Home. Eat. Study. Chill. TV. Music. Whatever.

Undress. Wash. Dress. Read. Sleep.

… do not think about him.

With a shuddering sigh, Sasuke finished adding the last item to his list and flopped down on his bed, massaging his temples. A headache was brewing, he could feel it. It was familiar. That strange, dull and paradoxical pain behind the eyes – a pain that seemed to occupy but a portion of one's skull, yet at the same time managed to reach out and touch every corner until you were rendered utterly useless. Fit only for pillows and painkillers.

And that was how he felt now. There was no doubt that he had scraped the bottom of the barrel as far as his mental and physical reserves were concerned, and writing the last item on the list had finished him. Briefly, he wondered why such an innocuous task might have taken such a toll before the answer came to him, along with another squeeze of pain. A different pain this time. One hollow, lingering and so acute it made him want to sit in a corner and weep.

The pain was the reason he had come to make his list in the first place. It impaired his judgement, made him unable to complete the simplest daily tasks, screwed him up beyond repair. It had got to the point lately where he no longer trusted himself to eat or sleep. The list went some way to remedying this. For one, it was a stark reminder, pinned on the door so that when he opened his eyes in the morning, it would be the first thing he would see. That way, he could begin concentrating right away on simply existing, leaving himself no time for dark thoughts that would bring fresh, knifing waves of grief and pain upon tides of memory and loss.

The list had been written to help him forget. But by adding him to it, by merely mentioning him – even in such a prohibitive context – he had negated its value, had destroyed what it was meant to represent.

Sasuke sat up and reached for his desk upon which the list sat. He looked at it for a while. Then he crushed it in his hands.

It had been nearly a month now since he'd broken up with Orochimaru. Three weeks, three days and twelve hours ago exactly. The break up… had not been amicable – but then had things ever really been 'amicable' between them? "No. Not as such," would be the answer Sasuke would have given if asked. They had loved one another, that was true. Oh yes. If nothing else, Sasuke knew there had been love. But that was also part of the problem.

Before he met Orochimaru, he had sincerely doubted it was humanly possible to love too much. Believing he was naturally inclined to emotional frigidity, he could neither comprehend nor empathise with the concept. Why would one want to? Going to extremes over anything was entirely unnecessary and was just plain stupid. But when Orochimaru had come into his life, all he came to realise was that his understanding of the realms of human capability and the depths to which it could reach was woefully naïve.

It was love, but it was a ferocious, thoughtless love that destroyed all it touched and burned everything to cinders and ashes. When he first let it slip that he was seeing Orochimaru at a family gathering, the fallout was… less than pleasant. His father had taken it especially badly and had forced Sasuke from the family home and refused point blank to help towards his school fees. Itachi was halfway across the country, so he had been deeply grateful when his lover had offered to provide him with a roof over his head and agreed to foot the university bill when the new term rolled around.

Sasuke had not spoken to his family since.

Their love burned bridges.

His friends Sasuke was lucky to have, for though they didn't exactly approve of his relationship with Orochimaru – the eccentric honorary research fellow from the biochemistry department at the University of Konoha whom he had met completely by chance when they both ordered the same type of coffee at the cafeteria – they accepted it and stood by him. His place at university he was still lucky to have, for when the senate discovered Orochimaru's relationship with a student (despite Sasuke not belonging to his department, or even his faculty) he had been temporarily stripped of his position and a formal enquiry carried out. Fortunately, matters had been resolved in their favour, but it had been a worrying time for both of them.

More often than not, Sasuke had wondered whether all the hard fought battles, all the stress, the sleepless nights, the threats of ostracism – all of it – had been worth it. For a long time, it had seemed that way, for no matter what fate had thrown at him, Orochimaru had always been there with a wry smile and a misanthropic jest to bring a little light to whatever shit he had been going through. And for his part, Sasuke would comfort his lover in more subtle ways. By sneaking up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist when he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. By sitting quietly on the sofa with a mug of coffee warming his hands, listening while Orochimaru paced the floor and ranted about something sciencey Sasuke didn't understand. By making sure there was always a big bag of jasmine tea in the cupboard in the kitchen. Little things like that.

So where had that gone?

Well, Sasuke supposed, it hadn't gone exactly. The good, little things were still very much there. It was just that the bad stuff had just gotten too much. The kind of love that he had shared with Orochimaru (still shared if his present emotional state was taken into account) was destructive. It was a jealous kind of love. It was intense. It was the kind of love where Sasuke would scream himself hoarse at his lover and be in his arms five minutes later. It was the kind of love that caused Sasuke to run away for a few days because he couldn't take the arguing any longer, until Orochimaru tracked him down to Itachi's place and turned up full of sweet words of apology – at which point Sasuke had forgiven him on the spot.

It was passionate. It was frenzied. It was profoundly volatile. Towards the end, they had fought almost every night. At that point, it hadn't taken much to ignite the spark of a mere disagreement and turn it into a blazing row.

"Oh, so you went to a bar with Sakura, did you? On your own? Just the two of you?"

"What were you doing talking to Kimimaro this morning? Don't lie to me, I heard you!"

"And what exactly did brother dearest mean by that?"

"You love your work more than you've ever loved me!"

It was the last one that did it. For over a month, Orochimaru had been spending more and more time in the labs and less and less at home, and Sasuke had grown tired of falling asleep in an empty bed. When he had mentioned this to Orochimaru, their discussion had degenerated into what was possibly the worst fight they'd ever had. Vicious stabs, large and small, created wounds, deep wounds that he knew would be difficult to heal.

That was when Sasuke realised the true nature of their love. Beneath the grand gestures, beneath the small, beneath the jokes, the teasing, the fun, the fights, the make-up sex and the warm aftermath – beneath it all, it was a burning, ferocious, thoughtless love – and it was burning out of control. It demanded so much of his time, and sometimes he couldn't even think straight in class because of it. It sapped his strength, his will, and for a brief moment when he looked into Orochimaru's eyes from across the living room during that soul-destroying argument, it sapped his desire. At that point, he just couldn't take anymore, and he turned and walked away.

He waited until Orochimaru had left for the labs in the morning. Then he had packed a bag and left, skipping class to make sure he had everything he needed that he could carry. No note, no phone call, no nothing. Sasuke knew this time it would be impossible for Orochimaru to track him down because he was currently staying in halls at the university, provided for him when he went to the housing association committee and begged for a place to stay after being kicked out of the cheap motel. It was cold and it was cramped and he could hear the overseas student in the room next door banging her boyfriend late into the night, but it was nothing a pair of headphones couldn't fix.

God he missed him. He missed him so much it hurt. He never thought it would hurt. But it did. See, that was the thing about something that burned. It was alright at first. Tingly and nice and warm and comforting. The longer you stayed by it, though, the more you noticed the tingle becoming prickly and unpleasant, and before long the burn would come – as did the pain. You knew you had to turn away or perish in the flames, but when you did, the cold and the dark hit you like an artic wind, or a chill wave, shocking and numbing you to the core.

Not having Orochimaru around was like that. It was cold and dark without him. It was like when he had to snuff out the flickering tealight candles Naruto had brought him to use because the power kept cutting out on his floor. When he pinched the tips, the flame died, leaving only cold and shadows, and it always felt like he was in a vast, empty space because he couldn't see the walls or the corners of the room about him. Usually, Sasuke just pulled the duvet over his head and tried his best to get some sleep. He considered himself lucky if he ever did.

Then, as if just thinking about it had made it so, the bare lightbulb overhead flickered and died. Through the paper-thin walls of his room, Sasuke heard a general, muffled chorus of dissent as each occupant of the twelve rooms on his floor experienced their own inconveniences. Managing a wry smile, Sasuke sat up in the dark and unlaced his shoes, removing them and kicking them under the bed. He didn't even bother rooting around for his candles, for he was tired and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and forget about the great big fuck-up his life had become.

In the pitch black, Sasuke crawled under the covers and closed his eyes.

After a while, sleep took him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

He awoke to clouds and to the gently lapping waters of a lake.

Below him, the water was slate grey and ice cold; above him, a rippling, rose-coloured, mackerel sky. How he knew the water was slate grey and ice cold, he did not know. He had not seen it, but he knew. He knew with just as much certainty as he knew that he was floating on his back, in a lake, staring up at the sky and watching brief flashes of wind-swept shadows flicker and dance behind the clouds.

It was pretty, so he lay still in the water and watched the sky for a while, feeling the water kiss the tips of his outstretched fingers. For how long he watched, he did not know. Time did not seem to exist in this place. It could have been a second, or half a lifetime. The laws of nature, likewise, did not seem to exist, for by all rights he should have frozen in the icy water and sunk to its endless depths long ago. Instead, it felt pleasantly cool and not very wet at all. It made him feel at peace.

"Sasuke…"

It was Orochimaru's voice, and it caused a little jolt in the pit of his stomach. He did not know where it came from. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Leave me for a moment, he wanted to say. I like it here. It's nice. I want to stay forever. Nothing bothers me.

"Sasuke…"

It began to snow, and the world turned upside down.

The lake was black, the sky was grey. Thick mist hung over the water like a pall. Slowly, he sat up, treading water and looked about him. He could see no farther than a few feet. In the dark water, his hands were so pale they seemed to glow white, and when he raised them to his face in order to better see, the air was so cold it condensed around the surface of his skin, causing steam to curl in pretty patterns. Still, he could not feel it.

"Sasuke…"

Orochimaru's voice when it called was closer this time – so close it felt like it had whispered in his ear. He turned in the water, a slow, sluggish movement, suddenly wanting to see him. And then Orochimaru was there, sitting cross-legged upon the surface of the water in a black kimono, his hair unbound. His lover gazed at him across the short distance that separated them, his expression unfathomable. Then he smiled that wry, secret smile so familiar and held out his hands as if to receive him.

Swimming.

Swimming.

He found himself swimming, wanting nothing more than to reach Orochimaru, but ever as he laboured, the object of his desire grew no nearer. The snow began to fall in thick flurries, obscuring his vision, but still he pressed on. At one tantalising moment, he was almost within touching distance, and he reached out, wanting to be taken into Orochimaru's embrace.

His lover disappeared, fading into nothingness, and Sasuke was left alone.

Shafts of glittering sunlight pierced the grey veil and shattered the mist, the frost and abjuring clouds. The world turned upside down and the sky was blue, the lake an ocean. A fierce, yellow sun hung in the sky and Sasuke felt it warm him from within and without. Its rays caught the surface of countless undulating waves, glinting and sparkling as crystalline points of light. This time, he was sitting atop the water, and when he looked down, he could see shoals of tiny brilliant blue fish darting around beneath him.

It was beautiful.

"Sasuke…"

His voice again. Like the first time, it seemed both near and very, very far away. He knew then that he wanted to search for it, to find its owner, and that he would do so no matter how long it took.

After a few lingering idle moments spent gazing at carefree fish, he rose to his feet and began to walk across the surface of the water. He stopped short when he noticed a rowing boat floating towards him. It drew nearer and nearer, though it took a long time, and he watched its progress impassively as it closed in on him. He thought it would stop beside him, but it did not. Instead it carried on straight past, heading for its unknown destination.

It was only when it had passed him that he realised Orochimaru was in the boat. With a sense of rising panic, he took in the image of his lover prostrate, laid out as though dead, with his arms folded and his beautiful and peculiar eyes closed. Flowers bloomed and died in the foam churned in the wake of the boat's passage.

Sasuke found himself running, running flat out to catch the boat before it disappeared. This time he reached it, and he grabbed hold of the stern and clung onto it, tugging frantically in attempt to stop it until it drifted to a halt on the open water of its own accord. Gazing down at his lover, he knew then that Orochimaru was dead. How, why and when he did not know, but he knew he was dead. Tears coursed down Sasuke's cheeks as he gently laid a damp hand against Orochimaru's face. It should have been like ice, but his skin, so cold and pale, was warm. Kneeling, he threaded his fingers through Orochimaru's long, dark hair. It was soft as he remembered, and for some reason, this only made him cry harder.

He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him so badly.

So he did.

Orochimaru's lips, too, were warm and soft, just like his skin, just like the sun and the warm blue ocean. Surprised by this, Sasuke deepened the kiss and let it linger as the sun, the moon and the stars wheeled overhead, as day turned to night and night to day and again and again until time ceased to exist.

When an eternity passed (or a fraction of a thousandth of a second, either way it was inconsequential) Sasuke pulled back ever so slightly, letting their lips touch, resting his forehead against Orochimaru's. It felt like he had left a portion of his soul behind when he ended that kiss, and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling hot tears leaking out.

Then the world turned upside down as Sasuke felt Orochimaru's lips move against his.

He whispered, "Sasuke…"

Terror gripped him, froze him to the spot, when Orochimaru opened his eyes. The sun exploded, blinding him with its white hot glare, and then glittering yellow filled the whole of his world. All water underneath him rushed away and his stomach lurched as he fell, dragged into a swirling void. Darkness took him, fear conquered him, and he woke in a tangle of sheets, sweating, cold and clutching at his quilt.

Alone.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

In his small, Spartan room provided for him by the university authorities, Sasuke sat up in bed, his head in his hands.

His heart was racing and he was trembling all over, but he was awake and alive and that was all that mattered. It took him a few minutes to properly calm down as he concentrated on taking deep, even breaths and focused on the everyday noises in the halls that always seemed to calm shattered nerves. People laughing, talking, watching TV, listening to the radio, bickering. That sort of thing. Once he felt strong enough, he reached for the glass of water he'd left on his desk unfinished from the night before and took a swig of it. His throat was raw and dry and the liquid cooled and soothed. A bitter laugh escaped.

It was a dream. Just a stupid dream. Nothing to worry about at all. He was not dead. Orochimaru was not dead. No one was dead, and it would be better for all parties involved if everyone could just get on with their lives without being plagued by crazy imaginings in which everyone was dead…

Running a hand through his hair, Sasuke swung his legs onto the floor and rose on limbs stiff and cold. Throwing on a grey hoodie, he padded over to the battered armchair upon which he'd thrown his backpack the night before. When he found it, he dug around inside it for his phone. The clock on the wall read eleven forty-four which meant he had missed the start of the one class he took with Naruto by ten minutes. There wasn't much point in turning up late, and he didn't much feel like it either, so he figured it'd be safe to turn on his phone for a minute or so in order to send his best friend an apology text.

He pressed the on button and waited for the phone to organise itself. Once ready, Sasuke sat back down on his bed and brought up a blank text. He began to write.

'Sorry, Naruto. Slept in. Will catch you after class. I'll buy you something for lunch to make up for it.'

Smiling as he imagined Naruto's petulant face brightening at the thought of free food, his finger automatically slipped to the off button. But just before he pressed it, the phone began to ring.

Orochimaru's name flashed up on the screen, including the little x his lover had added onto the end in a fit of frivolity when Sasuke had once left his phone unguarded on the kitchen table.

The sight of it made his insides squeeze painfully.

For a long moment, Sasuke sat there on the bed, staring at the phone. It had been well over a minute, yet still it rang. Gradually, the ringing grew louder and louder, and though Sasuke knew that it was only what the phone was programmed to do, it seemed to put immense pressure on him. It was relentless. Insistent. His stomach had tied itself in a knot. Frustrated, he threw himself back onto the mattress with a growl, panicking, wondering what to do as the phone rang and rang and rang, as if his lover were somehow aware of his dilemma and wished to persuade him one way or another.

He missed him so much, and it was cold and dark without him in his life. But did he want to turn back to him? Did he want to go back there?

As though in answer, his hand shot out and snatched the phone. Placing it to his ear, his heart fluttering in his chest, feeling sick to his stomach, he hit the call button.

There was a pause, as though the other on the end of the line had hesitated, unsure. And then it came.

"Sasuke?"