you are home

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 20

Itachi sat at the dining table, having set and plated the food he made for dinner. The dining room clock ticked consistently, filling the silence—mocking his lonesomeness. The steam from the once-warm food had started to disappear bit by bit. 

The call from his boss went as expected and ended after a rather brief conversation. He took the extra time he had to catch up on his homework.

But now he was all caught up with his coursework, and dinner was made and ready to be consumed...

Yet there was still no sign of Sasuke.

Itachi looked up at the clock by the front door. It was nearing seven in the evening—almost nightfall. It wasn't uncommon for Sasuke to be late coming home, but today was supposed to be his first day at a new school. He should still be fitting into the environment. There was no good reason why he would be out this late.

A thought crossed Itachi's mind. He put his head in his hands and cursed to himself. 

Sasuke better not be...

No, Itachi reassured himself, Sasuke was doing much better—

But the possibility...

Fuck.

It all made sense the more Itachi thought about it. Sasuke left for school nearly an hour before it began, even though it was barely a ten-minute walk. There was an art store that sold spray paint about fifteen minutes away from their apartment. Going to the art store, plus walking the extra twenty-five minutes back to school in the other direction...

It would've taken Sasuke all but forty minutes to go buy what he needed and head to school. 

Itachi wondered now if he made a mistake by not stopping Sasuke from going out so early. He should have forced him to sit at the table and eat breakfast. The omelette he made was still sitting in the fridge—untouched and merely forgotten.

The man rose from his seat, going over to grab his keys and jacket. If Sasuke was still at school, he'd drag him back. As he finished putting on and zipping his jacket, Itachi heard the front door unlock and creak open softly. 

"Sasuke...?" Itachi muttered in surprise, striding over to where the boy stood. 

The younger Uchiha said nothing. Itachi put his hands on the boy's shoulders, guiding him inside and locking the front door behind them.

Sasuke didn’t even try to shrug Itachi’s hands off of his shoulders. That was new; he was acting so strange and withdrawn. It worried the older Uchiha.

"Where were you?" Itachi asked gently. "Why were you late coming home?"

"Why do you care?" Sasuke grumbled.

Itachi didn't say much in response. He took in his brother's appearance, internally fretting over how pale he looked. With his hands still placed on the boy's shoulders, Itachi could feel how much Sasuke shook. Was he cold, or was he... scared? Anxious? Angry?

But why?

"What were you doing out so late?" Itachi asked his younger brother.

"Like I said, why do you care?"

Itachi sighed. This was getting nowhere.

"I was just worried, is all," Itachi admitted, dropping his hands from Sasuke's shoulders. "I thought you were vandalizing again."

"So what if I was?" Sasuke scoffed, turning around and heading to his bedroom. "I'm headed to bed—"

"What? No," Itachi snapped, pacing over to Sasuke and grabbing his arm, holding him in place. "Show me your hands."

Sasuke moved his hands behind his back, stubbornly concealing them from his older brother. Itachi's grip on his upper arm was starting to ache; the man was persistent in making sure he stayed. 

"Let me go," the boy demanded. "I’m in a bad mood.”

"Show me your hands," Itachi reiterated.

"Or else what?”

Sasuke had no intention of finding out the consequences, though a part of him wanted to challenge his guardian. He dared him to do anything—anything, really. 

He knew Itachi wouldn't. He knew Itachi couldn't.

There was nothing left for Itachi to take from him.

As Itachi pulled him back, Sasuke shoved him away, forcing the grip to loosen. He turned away from his older brother, still hiding his hands. His room was a few steps away. He could make it if he was fast enough.

But Itachi was faster.

He grabbed the collar of Sasuke's school uniform, spinning him around and reaching for the boy's hands. He forcibly took ahold of them, looking them over in utter disbelief.

Black and blue paint markings were dried on the palms of his hands and the back of his knuckles. No doubt it was spray paint; Sasuke’s hands always looked the same after vandalizing an innocent wall in the streets of Konoha.

"Really?" he asked the younger Uchiha. "I thought you would've stopped by now."

"What on Earth could've possibly made you think that?" Sasuke retorted.

Itachi resisted the urge to yell at his younger brother. He convinced himself that this was merely to get under his skin. There was no way the bright-eyed kid who cared too much about school at six was vandalizing one at sixteen. 

"Where did you get the spray paint?" Itachi asked.

Sasuke remained silent, opting to glare at his older brother instead.

Itachi decided to change the subject. This was going nowhere.

"I made dinner," he told Sasuke. "Have a few bites before you go to bed."

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't ask if you were hungry," Itachi tried to explain. "I said I made dinner, and I expect you to have a few bites of it."

"And if I don't?"

Challenge him, Sasuke's mind cheered.

There wasn't a single consequence he was afraid of anymore. There was nothing Itachi could do to upset him.

"If you're going to act like a child," Itachi warned, "I'll treat you like one."

"Do it," Sasuke dared, stepping closer until he was just inches away and glaring into Itachi's eyes. "Try me."

Itachi dropped Sasuke's hands, taking a few steps back. He removed his jacket and placed it on the coat rack by the door, leaving his keys in his jacket for tomorrow. He slowly walked over to the dining table, staring at the food he prepared for dinner before looking back over at Sasuke.

"I'll give you one more chance," Itachi said. "Sit down and eat by your own free will."

Sasuke deepened his glare. "Fuck you."

"Fine. Have it your way."

Temari quietly walked in Gaara's room, closing the door behind her silently. She didn't bother turning on the lights, even though the room was dark from nightfall. Letting her eyes guide her towards the bed, she carefully sat at the edge of the mattress.

Gaara's chest rose and fell at a rhythmic pattern. He was still asleep. Placing a hand on her younger brother, she gently shook him awake.

"Gaara," she whispered, "Gaara, it's time for dinner."

Gaara stirred, groaning at the fact that his sleep was disturbed. Guilt chewed her mind; it wasn't easy for him to sleep, but she wasn't sure if he had eaten during the day. It wouldn't be good if he slept after consuming medication on an empty stomach. 

"You should really be getting up," Temari insisted. "Come on, the food will get cold."

"...What time is it?" Gaara grumbled, using all of his strength to sit up.

"Nearly seven."

"Seven? How long was I out?"

Temari thought for a few moments, calculating the time before replying, "A little over nine hours."

"Nine hours?" Gaara repeated in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"New record, huh?"

It had been a while since Gaara slept that long—a whole recommended sleep cycle. Today was evidently a tiresome day; she didn't blame him.

"Well, come on," Temari urged, patting Gaara's back, "I made dinner. We should eat."

Gaara nodded absentmindedly. "Right."

"You need help? I can walk you to the dining room."

"No, I just..." Gaara looked around his room, noticing how dark it was. It felt odd to wake up. "I'll be there. I just need to use the restroom."

Temari nodded in understanding, getting up off her brother's bed. She walked towards the door, opening it to let the hallway light seep through.

"I'll go set your plate," Temari said, stepping outside. "You want the door open or closed?"

"Open," Gaara replied, "Thank you."

The woman left, leaving the bedroom door open. Gaara looked at the sliver of light that dawned into his bedroom. The smell of homemade food waltz through the air. He could almost smell exactly what was cooked.

It almost made him forget about the incident that happened earlier that morning.

Sasuke struggled against the binds placed around his midsection, hands, and feet. He didn't know whether he should be surprised or angry at Itachi. Being tied down to a dining room chair was embarrassing, even in the privacy of his own home.

As he tried to figure out a way to unclasp the worn-out kitchen cloth around his wrists, he saw a spoonful of rice stopping at his lips.

"Say 'ah,'" Itachi instructed, waiting with one hand holding the spoon and the other hand cupped underneath to avoid spillage.

Sasuke clamped his teeth together out of spite, glaring at his older brother.

"Oh, you don't like that?" Itachi observed. "Alright, how about the choo-choo train? Is that better?"

Sasuke kept his mouth shut, looking away.

"No choo-choo train then," Itachi compromised. "I have a better idea."

The younger Uchiha side-eyed his brother, curiosity getting the better of him. The spoonful of rice moved away from his face, going back halfway and above his face. It swooped in circles, inching towards his face in a matter he could only describe as—

"Here comes the airplane," Itachi sang, mimicking a landing sound with his mouth. 

Sasuke stared in disbelief; the glare dropped only to be replaced with utter annoyance. He kept his mouth shut tightly, moving his head away when the spoon touched his lips.

"You haven't eaten all day," the older Uchiha bargained. "Please. Just take a bite."

Sasuke spoke through gritted teeth, "Go fuck yourself."

The boy felt a hand grab his jaw, forcing him to look straight. There came pressure to the sides of his mouth, forcing it open bit by bit. It didn't particularly hurt him, but he couldn't exactly get away or keep his mouth closed. Only a small opening was made; Sasuke soon felt a spoonful of rice being forced into his mouth. The hand on his jaw released itself, reappearing at the front of his mouth, holding it closed to avoid him from spitting anything out.

"You're doing such a good job chewing," Itachi complimented—his tone similar to how one would talk to a baby who just learned to crawl. "Well done. I'm proud of you."

Sasuke tried to argue, only to be stopped by the hand muffling him. He had no choice but to chew the food inside his mouth and swallow. He did so, eventually, except the glare he had before returned tenfold. 

"Ready for another bite?" Itachi asked delightfully, removing his hand from Sasuke's mouth.

"You're so full of shit," the younger Uchiha seethed, trying his best to lunge at his older brother, despite the binds holding him in place. "I'll spit out every bite you give me! That is a promise!"

Itachi put down the spoon in his hand, getting up from his seat. He reached over to ruffle Sasuke's hair, leaning down until he was at eye-level with him.

"That's adorable," Itachi cooed. "Let me get you a bib."

Furiously, Sasuke shrunk into himself, shaking the hand out of his hair. His older brother retracted it, narrowly escaping teeth that threatened to sink into his hand. A fresh bite mark from his earlier attempts at restraining Sasuke—fitted deep into the space between his index finger and thumb—served as a reminder of the pain.

"I thought I'd have to treat you like a kid, but if you want to act like a toddler..." Itachi paused to sigh before continuing, "I suppose there is no other way."

"You don't even have a bib on hand," Sasuke challenged him.

Itachi thought for a moment, telling him, "Wait here."

As if I can go anywhere, Sasuke grimly thought to himself. 

The boy tugged at the binds, feeling hope dwindle when he realized that he could only be free if Itachi let him go. He heard rumbling in the background. Some drawers were opened and closed, shuffled through, before the sound of Itachi's low laughter filled the air.

Itachi came back into the dining area, holding up a baby blue bib in front of him.

Sasuke couldn't help but stare at his brother—a million thoughts going through his head at once. Itachi inched closer to him, and only when his older brother was directly in front of him did Sasuke find it in him to speak his mind.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!" the boy yelled angrily, embarrassed and homicidal.

"You used to wear this when you were younger. You were three—maybe four," Itachi explained, all with a light smile on his face that said 'I won' in more than one way. "I wonder if this still fits you."

"You're not putting that thing on me."

"But you said you'd spit every bite of food I give you. The bib should keep your messes to a minimum, don't you agree?"

Every single possibility ran through Sasuke's head. He thought about how each option would end, and there seemed to be one thing that kept him from losing whatever little dignity he had. The only problem was that he'd rather not admit that he was hungry; he hadn't eaten since yesterday's lunch.

But the option of having a bib around him...

Sasuke mumbled, quiet enough for only his ears to pick up his answer.

"What was that?" Itachi leaned closer, wanting to hear those words again, knowing full well he heard correctly the first time around.

Mustering up what little courage he had, Sasuke fueled his lack of confidence with rage.

"I said I'll eat!" Sasuke screamed. "Are you happy?! Are you fucking satisfied?!"

He heard the older Uchiha hum in approval.

"Very much," Itachi said, setting the bib down and sitting back in his seat.

Sasuke watched as his older brother loaded another spoonful of food.

"Untie me," the boy demanded, struggling against the binds to emphasize his point.

"No," Itachi denied, holding up the spoonful of food to his younger brother's mouth. "Say 'ah.'"

Sasuke didn't dare say 'ah.' He turned his eyes away from Itachi angrily and opened his mouth, feeling the spoon rest on his tongue. He hurriedly took it in, chewing intensely.

"Good job, Sasuke," Itachi complimented, going in to load up another spoonful of food.

Sasuke complained with a full mouth, "You don't have to compliment me."

"But you're eating so well."

"Shut up."

Itachi brought another spoonful to his younger brother's mouth; the boy took it in and ate his fill. The process continued until most of the contents on Sasuke's plate were eaten. Itachi breathed out in relief, smiling to himself.

He had gotten his brother to finally eat. Lord knows how long it had been since the boy had a decent meal, but the dilemma from before still remained...

"Sasuke," Itachi said softly, getting his brother's attention. He waited for the younger Uchiha to look at him (albeit, he was still angry) before continuing, "Don't graffiti on school grounds. Please. I'm only saying this for your own good."

"You know what's good for me?" Sasuke mocked. "Really? You, of all people—"

Itachi forced another spoonful of food into Sasuke's mouth, effectively quieting him.

"Just eat your food, Sasuke."

Eventually Sasuke did. His plate was cleared, and he was untied from the chair. He rushed out of the dining room and into his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. As the boy collapsed on his bed, he noticed just how full he felt.

He didn't think he noticed how hungry he was until he ate a decent meal.

Dinner was quiet; it was always quiet. Back at home, in Suna City, meals were rarely centered on discussion.

But now they were in another country. They were in another city. Meals were still so quiet. Dinner was less suffocating here than it would've been back home, but it was still so quiet.

Gaara picked at the portions on his plate, moving food around to make it look like he was eating. He'd taken a few bites here and there, sure, but he was nowhere near halfway done with his dinner—not like how Temari was. He didn't think she'd notice, but she somehow always found out. After a while, she casually asked him what was bothering him.

"Where's Kankuro?" Gaara asked softly. 

"He went out earlier," Temari informed him. "He's most likely with his friends. They'll probably grab a bite to eat out there."

"...He should be here."

"Yeah, I know," Temari sighed, looking at the empty seat where Kankuro usually sat. 

In the past few days they've been in the new city, their meals fell into their normal format. Kankuro always sat in the seat closest to the head of the table—just like how he always did back at home. Gaara always sat next to Temari, and even now, as she sat opposite to where Kankuro would sit, he was next to her, trying not to disturb her.

Temari looked beside herself, noticing how Gaara too was staring at the empty chair. The woman peered down at her younger brother's uneaten food, thinking of a way to make the situation better.

"Hey," she said, grabbing Gaara's attention, "how about we save him a plate for later? When he comes back, he can have his share."

Gaara nodded, looking down at his plate. He still seemed bothered.

"Temari," he called out softly, asking in a rather uncertain tone, "Does Kankuro hate me?"

It took her back by surprise. "What makes you say that?"

Gaara shrugged.

No doubt that the events from the morning were still on his mind. It all happened so forcefully; there was no way to dodge addressing the situation at hand. Temari thought of the best way to explain what happened, but there really was no way to excuse the events from earlier. Maybe if she could bullshit her way through it...

Bullshitting her way through things always worked.

"It's pretty common for older brothers to treat their younger siblings roughly," she explained, trying to come up with an explanation that sounded true enough not to question. "Or at least, that's what I heard. I can't speak for him, but I don't think Kankuro hates you. Older brothers tend to tolerate their younger siblings, right? I'm sure Kankuro likes you enough to tolerate you. He's just a little rough with you."

Gaara didn't look up from his plate—still poking at his food.

"After all, you're his younger brother," she continued, joking a bit to lighten the mood. "It's practically your job to annoy him."

It bothered him; even she could tell that her words struck a nerve. She didn't intend for that to happen, but then again, Gaara was always a little more sensitive than normal kids his age. His forehead furrowed in stress and worry.

"I don't want to annoy him," Gaara expressed. "I don't want him to be rough with me. I don't want him to tolerate me."

"Yeah," Temari sighed, knowing her explanation didn't do the situation any justice. "Me, too."

She watched as Gaara brought the tiniest bite of mackerel to his mouth. It placated her to know that he would start eating more soon (hopefully); his stomach had been empty with nothing but pills for a large portion of the day.

"Temari," Gaara said, not daring to look at her as he asked, "Do you hate me?"

Temari stared back in shock. She didn't expect to be asked something so confrontational. The woman didn't hesitate to answer.

"No," she denied truthfully. "No, I don't hate you. I care about you, and I care about Kankuro."

She watched for his reaction; there was none.

"But what if I annoy you?" he asked, refusing to make eye-contact just in case.

Temari took a second to process the question before chuckling, "More than Kankuro annoys me? That's fairly impossible."

"You'll still care about me?"

"Yeah, of course I will," she said nonchalantly, shrugging because what exactly was the big deal. "After all, you're my younger brother."

It was upon those words that brought Gaara's eyes up to meet her. He saw the confidence in her face, resonating with the answer she gave. The redhead watched as she looked down at her plate of almost-finished-food and started to eat again.

It was just Gaara and his older sister, sitting at the dining table having dinner. Dinner that his older sister made for him. Dinner that was made with love, he assumed.

And he knew, in the back of his mind, that she wouldn’t leave the table until he was finished eating. Even though she was almost done with her food, she’d wait for him until he had his fill—just like she always did.

He had to tell her...

"Temari."

The woman hummed to acknowledge that she heard him, chewing back the food in her mouth. "What's up?"

His words were soft as he admitted, "I care about you, too."

Temari smiled at the confession—at Gaara.

And Gaara smiled back.

It was a bright and sunny day—typical and quite normal. Nothing could go wrong—just like any other typical, normal day. He laid in a patch of green grass, staring up at the blue sky and watching light clouds drift by slowly. A gentle breeze brushed against him, tickling his nose to evoke a sneeze that never came. 

"Sasuke!" A voice in the distance yelled for his attention. "Over here!"

It was the voice of one of his best friends. He leaned up from the grass, propping himself on his hands as he saw her run towards him. With one hand, she waved at him from afar; in another, she held her boyfriend's hand.

"Karin, he's not going anywhere," Suigetsu complained.

Sasuke could tell just how much his best friend hated being dragged from one place to another. Still, he noted a smile on the boy's face, letting him know that he didn't quite mind—so long as it was his girlfriend that dragged him places.

Behind them walked Juugo, steadily approaching them. He raised his hand and waved over at Sasuke when they made eye contact. Sasuke didn't bother getting up, nor did he bother waving back; he didn't exactly have a chance to anyway when he was pulled into a puppy pile. The couple that tackled him back on the ground started talking a mile a minute—most of which Sasuke couldn't catch nor comprehend.

He couldn't get them off of him—a problem he didn't mind having.

Sasuke listened as they droned on, already tuning out the conversation Karin and Suigetsu were trying to have with him. He lazily looked up at the sky, going back to watching the light clouds above. In the background, past the chatter in his ears, he heard light footsteps padding through the grass, stopping near him.

"Do I join," Juugo asked unsurely, stepping in front of Sasuke and blocking the sun, "or do you want me to get them off of you?"

"Join in," Suigetsu urged. "It's not like you get hugs from him on the daily."

Juugo nodded, spreading his arms. The action was innocent, until his frame got closer to the ground. The three friends on the ground scrambled in their places, not having enough time to move out of their way before Juugo collapsed on top of them.

"No, no, wait—" Sasuke tried to protest, only to welcome the impact from Juugo's fall with a small 'ow.'

"This is nice," Juugo said.

"For you, maybe," Karin groaned, "but not for the people under you!"

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Suigetsu remarked. "It's not like Karin apologized for knocking the wind out of Sasuke in the first place. Right, buddy?"

Sasuke shook his head, earning a jab to his ribs from Karin in protest. Sure, it hurt, but the action itself made him smirk.

This was his normal. This was his everyday. This was something he wanted for the rest of his life.

"So," Suigetsu started to say, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he looked at Sasuke, "I was thinking a shark this time—"

"We always do a shark," Sasuke grumbled.

"Come on! Just this once!"

"You'll say the same thing in the future. And again. And again. And again."

"Alright, genius," Suigetsu scoffed, but not nearly as annoyed as he portrayed himself to be, "Do you have a better idea?"

Oh, he had many ideas. He had an entire sketchbook full of ideas. Images that he sketched out on paper flashed through his mind, but a singular piece of art kept popping up.

”A raven," Sasuke thought out loud. "Or a hawk. Juugo likes hawks.”

”Birds are boring,” Suigetsu whined, groaning in exasperation as he bargained, “What about a dolphin? If you want to paint a mammal so bad, let’s do the underwater kind!”

Sasuke supposed birds were boring for someone like Suigetsu. He also supposed his singular favorite piece of art could be replaced if Juugo wanted to paint a hawk. They all only ever painted because it helped Juugo manage his stress. 

Sasuke could feel the weight of Juugo on top of them. He wiggled, trying to free himself. It was no use; Juugo was heavier and taller than all of them.

He opened his mouth to ask nicely—because Juugo was always nice to him. Sasuke didn't have to be forceful or plead insistently with Juugo, like how he did with Suigetsu and Karin (respectively). He'd ask Juugo to get off, and then he'd ask if Juugo wanted to paint a raven or hawk (or a damn shark, or God forbid, a dolphin).

He didn't have the chance to.

"Wait, I have to go," Juugo announced, suddenly getting off of his friends and running.

"Ah, shit," Suigetsu cursed. "Again? Seriously?"

"I'll follow him," Karin said, hurriedly getting up and running after Juugo.

"Karin?" Sasuke panicked, rising to sit up again when his friend started to scramble up off the grass. "Suigetsu, wait—"

"Karin!" Suigetsu screamed, lunging forward and running in the same direction his girlfriend went. "Karin, no!"

Sasuke looked around, hearing the disappearing voices of his friends fade out. All too soon, the scene changed. The grass he once laid in became a rooftop. A line of blood raced towards him from a puddle up ahead, near a group dressed in black cloaks with red cloud prints. 

His eyes traveled to the smears of blood on the ledge of the rooftop, right above the complimenting dark red puddle. 

Another voice called out to catch his attention: "Sasuke?!"

Sasuke looked towards it, taking in the emotions in the person's face. There was shock, maybe even denial, that he was present on that rooftop. The person stepped forward, walking towards him. The sun in the sky grew harsh—not like the light sun he was under just a few moments ago. Only when the person stood to cover the sun with their head did Sasuke recognize who it was.

It was Itachi.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 21

The next morning, Gaara found himself sitting in the backseat of Temari's car. The scenery outside passed by him as they cruised down the street. He took the time to take it in. A part of him wanted to roll down the window, but he knew Temari wouldn't appreciate cold air entering the heated condition she'd set in her car.

"So," Temari started, looking into her rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of her younger brother, "Kankuro came home earlier this morning."

Gaara looked away from the window, facing the direction in which Temari was sitting.

"He got you a little something," she said. "It's in the freezer when you get home."

"What is it?" Gaara asked.

"Nothing much. Just your toothpaste-flavored ice cream."

"Mint chocolate chip," the redhead corrected.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't taste minty or chocolate-chippy."

"Maybe you just lack a well-functioning tongue."

"Alright, fine," Temari snarked. "Let's end this conversation here."

They drove in silence, but Temari couldn't help but smile at the interaction. Behind her, she watched the rearview mirror to find Gaara in a better mood. Whether it was due to their conversation or the fact that Kankuro brought home his favorite dessert, Temari was just glad that Gaara was happier than before. 

She couldn't help but think about school. She had a feeling—an intuition of some sort—that today was going to be a good day. Though there was a blip in attending school yesterday, Temari thought that today would certainly be better. 

Speaking of...

"Did you make a friend yesterday?" she asked Gaara.

The question caught him off guard. "What?"

"Sasuke," Temari reminded him. "He helped you, didn't he? He seems like a good kid. Is he your friend?"

"I'm not sure."

"You should ask him today. He said he'd take notes for the classes you two share. It seems like he wants to get to know you better."

"Maybe he's just being nice," Gaara denied, looking back out the window.

"Maybe," Temari nodded. "But it doesn't hurt to ask."

Temari rounded the corner to the school and parked by the front gate. She unlocked the car, waiting for Gaara to get out.

"Gaara?" she called out, noticing that he hadn't made an effort to move yet.

Her younger brother remained quiet. Temari almost unbuckled her seat belt to turn herself towards him completely. Perhaps he was nervous to attend school, ever since what happened yesterday.

"Gaara?" She tried again. "How are you feeling?"

After a few moments, he did speak. 

"He brought me to the front office. He stayed with me until you got there," Gaara explained, uncertainty lingering in his voice. "He was late going to class because of me. No one's done that before."

Temari listened, taking in the way his right leg ticked and his hands tightly clutched the straps of his backpack. She didn't know what exactly he was trying to tell her; it didn't make sense to her.

This was normal. Anyone would've done that.

But, she reasoned, in Gaara's case...

"It's good to have someone that cares about you," she said.

She saw him nod slowly, unbuckling his seat belt and opening the car door. She heard a soft thump of the door closing and watched as her younger brother walked towards his school—backpack slinging on only one shoulder.

Temari waved him off, knowing he couldn't see her do so.

She hoped this day went well for him. 

The clock by the front door told him that it was nearing eight o'clock in the morning. School was about to start for Sasuke, but there was still no sign of him. The older Uchiha had knocked on his door at 6:31 a.m., and then again thirty minutes later.

Sasuke hadn't come out of his room. Itachi wondered if he was still at home; what if he left earlier than usual?

No. Sasuke was still in bed. He owned two pairs of sneakers and one pair of sandals—all of which were still placed by the front door. 

Sighing, the man went to the kitchen and opened up a drawer, rummaging around for a copy of all the keys to the apartment. He knew that, deep-down, Sasuke would hate him for entering his room without permission.

Still, he was worried. It wasn't like Sasuke to miss school.

Itachi finally found the key to Sasuke's room, taking it off the bundle of other keys and walking towards his destination. He knocked a third time just in case Sasuke was still in there, only to hear no response. 

"Sasuke," Itachi called out, putting the key in the lock compartment and twisting, "I'm coming in."

He opened the door, breathing out when he saw a lump under the covers. Sasuke was still in bed, and from the looks of it, he was deep asleep.

Itachi walked over, shaking his brother to wake him up.

"Sasuke, it's almost time for school," Itachi said. "You're going to be late."

No response.

"Sasuke?" Itachi knew his brother was usually a very light sleeper. "Sasuke, please wake up."

Still no response.

It worried the older Uchiha—how deeply his usually-alert brother slept. He placed a hand on Sasuke's forehead, growing concerned when he didn't feel any warmth indicated a fever. It would’ve made sense that Sasuke was still asleep if he was sick, but to not show any symptoms of a sickness...

Itachi roughly shook his younger brother, calling out his name louder this time. He had half a mind to rip the covers off of the boy until he saw something that made him freeze.

Tear stains coated the sides of Sasuke's face. There were still some remnants of tears coating the boy's lashes. His eyes were puffy and red at the outer corners.

And that's when Itachi heard:

"...ey're my friends... 'Tachi, no..."

Itachi backed away, looking around Sasuke's room. This was the first time he'd seen the inside of it. It was bare. 

Funny. Sasuke's old room used to be decorated to the brim with posters and empty cans of spray paint as souvenirs. Ever since they moved, it had just been dull.

No. That wasn't entirely true. At some point, Sasuke did end up stripping his old room bare, leaving only thumbtacks where his posters used to hang. Itachi thought that moving to a new home would let him be himself again, but he supposed his expectations were unattainable.

How long had he been crying in his sleep, Itachi wondered, not daring to look back at his little brother.

Guilt ate at him. He still remembered that day clearly; the look on Sasuke's face as he watched—

Itachi shook his head, clearing his thoughts. A day off from school was warranted. There was no way he was going to send Sasuke to school in his condition. He'd call the front office and let them know that Sasuke wasn't feeling too well. Itachi had to get to his own classes though; he had a midterm to take in a few hours, and he couldn't stay home to take care of his younger brother.

Itachi exited the room, coming back minutes later with a wet towel. Carefully, he leaned over and wiped at the tear stains and reddened eyes. Sasuke didn't wake up through the action. He finished ridding his younger brother's face of any dried remnants of tears before fixing the covers and tucking the boy in. 

As he left the room, Itachi's eyes caught a glimpse of three objects scattered on his brother's bedside desk—the only pieces of decoration in the bedroom. He knew who the items belonged to; he'd seen them before that day. 

Itachi closed the door, locking it to make it seem as though he never came in. He went back to the kitchen and put the key back on the bundle, setting them back in the drawer he found them in. He figured he should do some last-minute studying to refresh his memory for his midterm. If Sasuke woke up before ten o'clock, he'd be sure to have breakfast ready for him.

As he picked up a textbook he already laid out on the dining room table, he did his best to distract himself. Yet, no matter how long and hard he looked at the equations littered in his textbook, he couldn't help but think back to the objects he saw on the bedside desk:

A pair of glasses held together by white tape, a shark tooth necklace with a slight crack running through it, and a broken watch.