Promise
As usual, Sasuke was nowhere to be found in the morning.
Iruka smiled cheerfully as he moved around the dining room, serving Naruto’s favourite breakfast, pouring him a cup of cocoa. "I trust you slept well, young master?"
"Yes, thank you." Naruto glanced out the window. Grey clouds hung low in the sky, broken by an occasional flash of lightning. Naruto had always loved storms—the thunder, the lightning, the soothing sound of the rain pounding on the roof, pattering against the window panes. "Will Lord Sasuke be coming down for breakfast?"
Iruka shook his head. "My lord has offered you the shelter of his house," he said, following Naruto’s gaze, "until the storm passes."
"Did he?" Odd, he mused, when Sasuke had seemed so anxious for him to be gone.
"He would not have you catch a chill, young master.”
“There's a cozy fire in the library, should you wish to read, and also in the conservatory, should you wish to play."
"Thank you, Iruka." Naruto sipped the họt chocolate placed before him, relishing the smooth rich taste. "I thought you told me Lord Sasuke wasn't here."
"Did I?"
"You know you did. Why did you lie to me?" A guilty flush climbed into the brunette’s man's cheeks.
"The last time I came here, you said he had left the castle shortly after he sent me to Paris." Naruto trained his eyes on the kind elder man.
Iruka shifted uncomfortably. "I only told you what I was instructed to say, young master," he replied quietly. "It would have been better for all concerned if you had believed me."
"Better? What do you mean?" Naruto’s eyes widened.
Iruka glanced at the door; then, heaving a sigh, he sat down at the table across from him.
Naruto stared at him in surprise. Never before had Iruka sat at the table with him, or crossed the fine line between servant and friend.
"Master Naruto, I know you think yourself in love with Lord Sasuke," he said, speaking quickly, as though he feared being caught speaking so candidly. "'Tis true my lord has a certain appeal that most people find hard to resist."
"I didn't realise my feelings were so transparent," Naruto muttered dryly.
Iruka leaned across the table, his voice sombre. "You must believe me when I tell you it isn't safe for you to stay here."
Naruto frowned. Sasuke had said practically the same thing the night before. "I don't understand."
"Lord Sasuke is a man compelled by dark appetites, young master. Appetites he cannot always control. You would be wise to leave this place and never come back."
"Dark appetites?" Naruto shook his head. "Whatever are you talking about?"
Iruka glanced at the door again, his expression wary. "I cannot explain, except to say that Lord Sasuke is not like other men. He is driven by forces you cannot comprehend. It is why he lives in solitude."
Iruka took a deep breath. "I've said too much already." Rising, he placed a fatherly hand on Naruto’s shoulder. "Go home, young master. As soon as the storm passes, go home."
.
.
.
Smothered in darkness, Sasuke felt his anger bubble to the surface. How dare Iruka interfere in his personal life! What right did the man have to warn Naruto away from him?
Muttering an oath, he took a deep breath, the anger washing out of him between one breath and the next. Iruka had said nothing that he, Sasuke, had not said himself. If Naruto were wise, he would leave this house and never return.
He had no illusions about what he was. He reeked of evil, of death. He had done things, horrible things, atrocious things, committed acts that had damned his soul forever. No matter that he had not chosen this life for himself. Once the deed had been done, he could have ended it. He could have walked into the sunlight and destroyed the creature he had become.
He gazed into the darkness that shrouded him, a distant memory rising up in his mind…
FLASHBACK
"I don't want it!"
He screamed the words as he struggled against her, but his puny mortal strength was as nothing compared to hers.
"But you will take it," she said, her black eyes wise with knowledge beyond his understanding.
"You are a warrior, Sasuke of Konohagakure. You will not submit. You will not surrender. You will fight with every ounce of strength you possess to survive" She laughed softly, confidently. "You would drink me dry if I let you.”
"No! Never!"
"But you will." The certainty in her voice, the red slow in her eyes, had filled him with terror.
Effortlessly, she had held him close while she raked her blood red nails into his shoulder. "I have marked you.”
And then she pressed him back on the couch, holding him effortlessly in spite of his violent struggle to escape. He cried out as he felt the sharp bite of her teeth at his throat. Revulsion rose within him as he realised she was drinking his blood.
He wanted desperately to fight her, but he had no strength left. There was a buzzing in his ears, his heart was beating frantically, a hazy red mist rose up in front of his eyes.
“No, don’t…” Weakness engulfed him, his heartbeat slowed and grew heavy, and he felt the blackness of oblivion descending. And with it a nameless fear, worse than the fear of death.
“Please…” He formed the word but no sound emerged from his lips.
"You want to live?" Her breath was hot against his ear. "Then drink.”
He was too weak to move, to obey. He tried to see her face, but saw nothing at all.
"Drink!"
He didn't want to submit, but the will to live rose strong within him. He was, after all, a warrior, born to fight, to conquer. He opened his mouth, and she pressed her wrist to his lips.
"Drink."
His mouth closed over her flesh. A rush of liquid flowed over his tongue, warm and slightly salty. It slid down his throat like liquid fire, and suddenly he was clinging to her arm, drawing the blood into his mouth, revulsion and delight warring within him. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, growing ever stronger, beating in rhythm with hers. Power surged within him, igniting a craving for more.
"Enough!" She wrenched her arm from his grasp. "Enough, I say!"
He stared up at her, dazed, his gaze lingering on the redness around her mouth, the blood oozing from the gash in her wrist. A gash that was closing, healing, even as he watched.
Horror descended slowly. Lifting his hand, he wiped his mouth, then stared at the scarlet wetness on his fingertips. Her blood. He had been drinking her blood.
Slowly, seductively, she licked the redness from her lips. “You are mine now,” she said, “always and forever mine.”
"No." He shook his head, numb with the horror of what he had done, what he would become.
"You died tonight," she told him, her voice calm and detached, as if the words were of no significance. "When you wake tomorrow night, you will be as I am."
END FLASHBACK
He had not wanted to believe. Had refused to believe. Even when the violent tremors wracked his body, even when, with the sun's rising, darkness the likes of which he had never experienced enveloped him. Even when he woke the next night and saw the world through new eyes, he had not wanted to believe.
But it was true.
He had become a vampire, damned to spend his life in darkness, to be forever at the mercy of the Dark Gift, forced to live in the shadows, to exist on the blood of others, or perish...
Vampire... the word echoed and re-echoed through the corridors of his mind as the familiar darkness encompassed him once more.
=================================================================================
Naruto was still in the house when he awoke. He felt the blond’s presence with his first conscious breath.
Why hadn't he left?
Rising, Sasuke bathed and donned fresh clothing. Leaving the tower, he hurried downstairs, only dimly aware that it was still raining.
Naruto was sitting in the library, his feet curled underneath him. For a moment, he stood in the doorway, watching. He wore a loose fitting dark blue shirt, leather belt and loose fitting trousers.
His slippers were of the same dark blue. His hair, thick and wavy, shimmered like fine gold silk in the firelight. A slender gold chain with the sapphire he had given him circled his throat. The rain falling against the windows made a pleasant counterpoint to the crackling flames.
As though suddenly aware of his presence, Naruto looked up, his tanned cheeks turning rosy when blue eyes saw him watching.
"Good evening, my lord." Naruto put the book he had been reading aside, pleased that his hand did not tremble, that his voice was calm.
Sasuke entered the room on silent feet and sat down in the chair opposite of the blond. His cloak settled lovingly around him, enfolding him like the wings of a great black bird.
"I meant to leave," Naruto said, Sasuke’s nearness making him suddenly nervous, "but Iruka said I should wait out the storm."
Sasuke nodded. His whole being seemed to be reaching for the young man, yearning for him. Hungering for him. Did he really want him to go? Why not let Naruto stay? The blond could live comfortably here. His wealth could buy whatever he desired. He would make sure he lacked for nothing...
He clenched his jaw. He could never give Naruto the things every young man wanted. He could provide for him and protect him, but he could never give him a family of his own. He could stay by his side, but he could never share his whole life. He could care for the blond when age and disease took their toll, but he would not grow old with him. And in the end, he would stand by his grave, looking exactly as he did now.
"You can send me away if you want," Naruto said, unnerved by his silence, by the fierce glitter in the depths of his hell black eyes. "You can send me away, or you can leave, but I'll always be here when you come back."
"You're not afraid of me, are you?" he asked, his voice touched with wonder.
"Afraid? Of you?" Naruto shook his head. Sometimes the dark lord made him feel apprehensive, but he had never been truly afraid. He knew, in the deepest part of his being, that Sasuke would never intentionally harm him.
"You should be." Sasuke spoke the words calmly, as if commenting on the inclement weather.
"Do you want me to be afraid?"
"It would be better if you were."
"Better for whom? You speak in riddles, my lord."
"Pray you never understand them."
Sasuke turned the full force of his gaze upon him, and in spite of the brave words to the contrary, Naruto felt a sudden chill of unease. Clasping his hands in his lap, he took a deep breath. "Shall I leave?"
"You are welcome to stay," Sasuke said, one hand idly stroking the rich velvet of his cloak, "until the storm ends." He would offer the blond a bribe, he thought, offer to grant him anything he desired, anything that would take him away from this place.
From his presence.
He regarded Naruto through narrowed eyes. "I am going to grant you a boon, Naruto. One wish. Ask for whatsoever your heart desires above all else, and it shall be yours."
"You can do such a thing?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You would be surprised at what I can do."
Naruto frowned, certain he was imagining things, yet he would have sworn Sasuke’s cloak wrapped itself more tightly around his broad shoulders, that it soothed him in some way.
"Anything?" Naruto asked carefully in a whisper, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Only name your heart's desire."
"And you will grant it to me? You promise?"
Sasuke nodded. "What will it be?" he asked curiously. "Riches? A fine house staffed with servants? A return to Paris? Financial security for your family? Only name it, and it's yours."
"I wish to stay here with you," Naruto replied quietly, "for as long as it pleases me to do so. I wish to live in your house and spend time with you each night."
Sasuke stared at him. Of all the things he had imagined the blond might ask for, the most obvious had never occurred to him. "Ask for something else."
"No. You gave me your word." Blue eyed gaze met black. "Is it your intention to break it?"
"No." Sasuke’s voice was choked, hoarse, as though it were an effort to speak. "One year. I will give you one year."
Naruto’s smile was radiant. Triumphant. "Thank you. Would you ask Iruka to pick up my things in the morning? Oh! I must write a note to the others and let them know I shall be staying here. Would you ask him to come for it before he goes?”
Sasuke nodded curtly. Then, feeling like a spider caught in its own web, he stood up, his expression bleak, his eyes as cold as the rain pummeling the window panes. "I pray you do not regret your choice," he said and swept out of the room, his cloak swirling around his ankles as though blown by an angry wind.