Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Waking ❯ Smoke in my eyes. ( Chapter 5 )

Technical: this is a rewrite of the LJ community “nsn_roundrobin.” Anyways, this is from the “serious, plot-driven story.” So, Waking is a blend of LJ user etsumilau's “Icha Icha Paradise” (Chapter One), and LJ user blck_hyacinth's “Infection” (Chapter Two). Seeing that I wrote the third chapter (which some of you may or may not have read), I couldn't let my section of the story stand still...so, being the bored kid I tend to be, I wrote. Please note, though, that this is largely new prose, with some quotes from our celebrated author's chapters. While there is a huge emphasis from their works on the first ten sections (25 pages or so), it is primarily my words, and not stuff you've read. So, don't forget to follow the Main RR's progress, `cause we're going completely different directions, I'm sure. XD

  

 

Waking Laughter.

Falling visions of a sun and moon

Smoke in my eyes.
Chapter Five, Sasuke…by Taes

I can tell you stories of
the damned because I
follow the same path.
I can tell you of pain
that cuts deep and slides over
like slippery white
film that eats
even (yes, even that)
your stomach whole
(or half?)
decide.
Tell me everything
tell me
nothing.



you cannot save me

now.




Maybe I should have killed the Kyuubi brat then, Orochimaru thought, not for the first time, and to me it tasted of sickly sweet candy…the kind my brother is so fond of…thick, full and nauseatingly soft on every sense.

He isn't displeased, this man of snakelike demeanor, not really. I can tell it…he's merely thoughtful…confident in his abilities, but charmed by the possibility of thwarting his one-time comrades. Tricking them out of their dark cloaks with floating crimson clouds…

A sense of dread fills me, and a great cloud of doubt gnaws at my heart…I can see him, still a golden, bright-eyed child of the past. He had barely discovered his “way of ninja,” then. He's taken only a few fretful steps into a forest too dark for him to possibly understand. Even then, mind you, I was leagues ahead of him, half-shrouded in shadow before he grew into the name of ninja.

So. It seems all I've the mind for now is brooding…

…Orochimaru's pleasure only grew at my unease. He brings a chuckle forth from the very depths of his being. Serpentine as always, he hisses and growls in a most mysterious way…mm, what's this, darling? Have I caught a whisper of your soul, then?

I often wonder if his previous hosts ever sensed the demon inside, but Orochimaru offers only ridicule whenever I raise a true conscious thought. He delights in handing out twisted logic and strange, fatherly pride in me. This last thing brings on a number of reactions, both dim and bright…some of which are gleeful satisfaction, yes, but also dank, fearful disgust that I should be so totally his.

Maybe I can break you after all… Orochimaru smirks, amused or disdainful, I couldn't tell. In seconds, I'm swallowed by his great thoughts, pushed aside and lulled again to

a

dark

and somehow

dreamless

slumber…the sleep of the dead, the damned, and tyrants all…

Deep touches of drifting eyes. Warm hands and screaming lips of strawberry-red…eyes of the clearest, bluest sea, set like tombstones in determined resolution. We move together, him softly pushing for some semblance of love, me—my body—relentlessly, searching only for a way to.destroy.what cannot be Orochimaru's...there is grimly beautiful satisfaction in this, pleasure beyond compare to hear him scream my

name.

What is he, this golden boy of timeless waking?


Dreaming,

now, of hands wrapped `round me in passion, not hatred. I wonder how Orochimaru could have caught so delicate a prize, when the sunlight itself

envies

him.

I don't even have the time to wonder. What Orochimaru will do with that golden, conquered doll…?

…when he's got the marionette called me…

gone again, far again,




I can't breathe, can't feel anything at all but his breath on me as I come to, feeling clenched fingers tighten ever tighter, and sense wary eyes settle on a face so narrow and strangely smooth I have to wonder…how did this finely dressed man come about such features?

My mouth moves on its own accord—no, on Orochimaru's—and I see through eyes that are no longer mine. They are gold-tinged, slitted things with an air of intelligence, craft, and strength…a genius built so completely that he watches every step, feels every implication, and somehow knows me…

…to be a threat worth consideration.

Me, Konoha, and the Kyuubi-brat Naruto, we are all needles that may yet be poison tipped…he would destroy us all.

My mouth speaks; “gentlemen…I appreciate your concern,” just as a fox is grateful the hen's truancy with eggs.

(...he would put out the sun...)

A man with the eyes of a rat smirks a little; he twists his long fingers in such a way that suggests agitation, impatience and squalor all at once. He is clever, undoubtedly, this man with expensive clothes and a clean-shaved face… “Naturally.” He replies, and continues down a more direct avenue. “Of course Oto will be successful against the errant village, correct?” he simpers joylessly, looking unabashedly down my young, smooth body with distaste. He doubts my competence.

The other, narrow-faced man coughs lightly, “we have been asked, Lord Orochimaru, to be certain of your intentions…” he coughs again, uneasy still, “if all goes well, Konoha will be stripped of her best ninja...no longer will she claim the seat of power. A new kage will be needed.” He folds an ornamental fan and raps it lightly against his own leg.

Orochimaru—I?—laughs, and I feel myself drifting again, deep into the depths of a mind forest, “too many great ninja have come from the Leaf,” he begins, I feel my tongue grow smoother, stretch beyond the confines of human design, “while too few protect the interest of Fire's ruling class…you fear their determination, do you not?”

The narrow man coughs loudly, choking on his spittle. He shoots a look at the narrow lord—I know this is what that thing is, now, with its so-human-seeming mouth but grasping, rodent-like hands—and the two of them nod very tightly.

Lord Rat titters, “don't be foolish, my Lord Orochimaru…we just wish to have a more, ah, how should I say,” his fingers tighten, “a more appreciative ruling class of ninja…”

Orochimaru uses my mouth to smile, and my teeth are sure to glint in the sunlight. “A more loyal village, yes?”

They forget with whom they speak…what Orochimaru has done, to get where he is…he grows desperate to ease into true, undisputed power. He fears the rise of a new class of ninja, and the power they might bring with them.

“My brother,” what a term for this man, “you want to be the undisputed hokage, don't you?” the Lord Narrow simpers, “it's what you've always wanted…” something heavy is pulled from a kimono sleeve. “And we, Lord, would like to help you very, very much…”

I feel the laughter grow in my belly and spew into my mouth. I can taste the acid forthcoming—poison only a snake bares—and I can see it in my charming eyes…my body, Orochimaru's heart, taking these scheming old fools' throats in his teeth and—

They've left now, and Orochimaru fades back into the shadows. Minutes draw into moments, into a collage of time that I've lost track of—but I can hear their voices, as surely my captor can, and their words would startle me…if I were as naïve as other boys my age.

But I'm not.

Above the bubbling stream Orochimaru has so cleverly positioned, the narrow Lord's voice carries. “…Konoha has become arrogant…” they cross a small bridge, their footsteps loud in the old-fashioned geta, sandaled shoes of Japanese design. “They claim superior skills at inflated rates, but where's the proof that they're any better than Grass?” he fingers a money-purse hidden from sight, and I wish I could laugh.

…ninja as mercenaries…that's all they think of us.

A low chuckle, as they pass a tree. In its lofty branches, a dark silhouette swings in the breeze…a man's form embraced lovingly by shadow. “And to think, Oto would have no qualms with, ahh, missions Konoha might find distasteful…” they both gaze upon the corpse. “Can you think, how much better it shall be? To be rid of that old hag of a legend…and fill her shoes with a more humble kage…”

To replace one of the legendary three with another…how like old men.

“Yes, with no unexpected twists at the end of the night.” …and the wind takes their voices, at last, away. I can hear no more.

The sun that had seemed so bright falls into shadow. At last, the glimmering, pale and melancholy twin of the sun, the moon, peers down on me. I could taste the wind's pungent breath in my gasping mouth—what has Orochimaru done to me?—and I can hardly remember any of what just passed…only the vague impression of danger holds to my now dry and faulty tongue.

Black, black, what of it?

Laughter tightens in my mind, Orochimaru's. Oh, sweetling… his sly voice has never seemed more ominous, you're out of sorts…go back to sleep, doll, and when you wake?

Something good will find you.

I feel my head spin…I can sense it, as I grow heavy within myself…

…Orochimaru has been put off his guard, and he has seen it.

Someone will pay for his agitation…

will it be the sun,

or the moon?

at once
I fall

to silent,

despairing

dreams.

There is no waking.

. : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : . ~ : ~ . : .

Next time: Naruto. bleed me bare and dry.

 

...tell me you
hate (love)
want
me?

comment if you have anything (anything at all) to say.