SN

When Sasuke wakes again, it’s to the sound of raised voices. Groggily, he buries his head under his pillow. “Not again,” he groans. When his father and Itachi are fighting, it means slammed doors, his mom crying, and he has to make dinner for himself. He hates days like that.

“I do not want to hear it! He is leaving now, do you hear me? Now!”

Sasuke knows by now. He expects it. Here comes what always happens next: Itachi calls their father a homophobe, Fugaku calls Itachi some words that are worse, the door to Itachi’s room is slammed shut. Sometimes Itachi will barge into Sasuke’s room, dragging his latest boyfriend behind him. “Jeez,” he’d pant, out of breath, “Can we just stay here, Sasuke? For a few minutes until Father calms down?” A sideways glance at the boy next to him. “Be warned, we might have to go out the window.”

And Sasuke would never say no. Not even if it meant his father wouldn’t speak to him for a week, not even if it meant doing his homework at the library so Itachi and his boyfriend could have some privacy. Because he loved his brother -- his big brother, his amazing, funny, smart big brother who caught the eye of every girl and every guy who walked by, his brother who would tickle him and tell him stories late into the night, his brother who whispered to him, once, in the dark, “It’s difficult, Sasuke.”

Sasuke had been half asleep. “What is?” he’d mumbled.

“Everything.” There had been a long silence, so long Sasuke had nearly fallen asleep, and then Itachi had spoken again. “I hate him.”

Sasuke had been awake then. “Who?”

“Father. I hate him. I hate him, Sasuke. This fucking --” Itachi’s voice had become muffled by the pillow, and Sasuke realized with cold horror that his brother was crying. “This shitty life -- it’s too fucking hard --”

“Nii-san,” Sasuke was worried, then, and he rolled over to hug his brother. “Nii-san. Please. Don’t cry.”

Itachi had caught his breath, wiping at his face roughly, almost angrily. “It’s so stupid,” he spat. “Why does it matter? Why does it ever matter?”

Sasuke had felt a creeping dread crawl into his stomach. “What is it? What doesn’t matter?”

Itachi buried his face in Sasuke’s hair. “Me. Who I am. Who I like. What I like. Poetry, and guys, and singing, and just being happy.”

Sasuke had felt the sting of tears rising in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered fiercely. “I don’t care if you like boys, or anything else. It doesn’t change anything.”

Itachi said nothing for a moment, and then he shuffled to the side, brushing Sasuke’s hair out of his eyes. “Sasuke, look at me.”

Sasuke complied. Itachi’s eyes were usually dark and shining, just like his, he knew, but now they almost looked red in the darkness of his bedroom -- from crying, Sasuke thought, but that wasn’t it -- there was something there that he’d never seen before. A kind of desperateness, almost anger. “Yes…?”

Itachi studied him, intently, for a moment, and Sasuke had the strange feeling that his brother was looking at his very soul. “Don’t ever let them make you someone you’re not,” he whispered, and somehow, Sasuke had known, with every fiber of his being, that he would remember the moment for the rest of his life. That Itachi's words were somehow dividing his life into before and after.

How he wished he hadn’t been right.

But Sasuke’s flashback is suddenly interrupted by an angry retort from outside the door. “He could have died, on our roof, you know, and then where would you be? Not such a perfect family after all, huh?”

The sound of a slap rings out, and Sasuke stiffens. He’s not at home; this is Neji’s house. Neji’s room. Neji yelling, in the other room. Sasuke is not supposed to be here. He is not supposed to hear these things. He tumbles out of bed, wincing at a tender spot on the back of his head. Fuck. His clothes.

The door begins to slide open, and Sasuke freezes, thoughts too scattered to jump back into bed and pretend to be asleep.

Neji steps in, carrying Sasuke’s clothes and clutching his cheek. When he sees Sasuke, wearing nothing but his boxers, standing in the middle of the room, he also freezes. “Sasuke.”

“N-Neji.” Sasuke stands up straighter, trying to pretend that standing mostly naked in someone else’s room is totally natural. “Are those my clothes?”

“Yes.” Neji drops them on the bed, and Sasuke is grateful to see that there are no bloodstains on his shirt or pants. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you --”

“No, it’s fine.” Sasuke tries not to stare at the bright red hand-shaped mark on Neji’s cheek. “I should get going.”

Neji doesn’t meet his eyes, but he lets his hair fall over the mark on his cheek. “No, if you feel unwell you should lie down --”

“I feel better,” Sasuke interrupts, yanking on his shirt, wishing Neji’s voice didn’t sound like that -- meek and quiet, like he’s trying not to be seen. He wants Neji from the roof last night, whispering beautiful words about the stars, or even the smug Neji from the clearing. Anything except this timid Neji who wants to disappear. “I should probably get home. I… have homework.” Sasuke wants to kick himself. Who does homework on a Saturday?

But Neji seems to understand, and nods, looking relieved. “Right. I can walk you home.”

“I’m okay.” Now Sasuke is really avoiding Neji’s eyes, because no one is allowed to come to his house. “I can get there on my own without passing out, thanks.”

Sasuke catches Neji’s frown out of the corner of his eye, but before the Hyuga boy can argue, the door slides open once more and a man enters.

Sasuke has never actually seen Hiashi Hyuga in person. Once or twice he’s seen him in pictures, but now, in person, Sasuke is struck by how much he looks like Neji. They both have long, flowing hair that falls to their waists, and those same milky eyes, but while Neji’s face is smooth and young, Hiashi’s countenance is lined and rigid. Sasuke can’t imagine this man ever smiling in the sudden, unexpected way Neji does sometimes.

“Uncle.” Neji shifts to face the man frowning in the doorway, and Sasuke realizes that Neji has moved in front of him in an almost protective stance. “I was just going to escort him out.”

Hiashi’s frown deepens. “Good. In the future, kindly refrain from making any such rash decisions.” Sasuke is aware of the way Neji tenses up at the sound of his uncle’s voice, and a stab of sympathy shoots through him. What right does this man have to speak to him this way?

“It was my fault.” Sasuke’s voice rings out, startling Neji and himself, and Hiashi pauses, halfway out the door. “I was acting stupidly. I didn’t get enough sleep the night before, and it had been a long day…” Sasuke know he’s babbling, but he seems to have Hiashi’s attention. “So I really shouldn’t have disturbed you. Thank you for taking me in,” he finishes weakly, because Hiashi’s gaze is now burning into him.

“Boy. You’re Fugaku’s son.” The words are so unexpected, Sasuke is left dumbstruck. Hiashi narrows his eyes. “Why were you on my roof in the first place?”

Sasuke swallows, but he’s saved any sort of explanation by Neji, who leaps in. “I invited him,” he says quickly. “We were working on a school project. I know you don’t like strangers in the house, Uncle, so we were on the roof at first…” Neji shoots Sasuke a pleading look, and Sasuke nods.

“Yes, it’s a poetry project. We have this poetry unit in our Literature class…” he trails off, suddenly realizing that he has no idea of Neji takes the same classes he does. But the frown on Hiashi’s face has softened a little.

“Well,” he says gruffly, “I suppose you can come over and work here. But please understand, we are a private family. If you intend to come in, let me know ahead of time.”

Neji exhales -- softly, but enough to reassure Sasuke that whatever tension there was between Hiashi and him has diffused. “Thank you, Uncle. We will. Now, we should get going.” He grabs Sasuke’s hand and pulls him through the door, past Hiashi, but before the two of them can make their escape down the hall, the man places his hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, halting them.

“Hold on, Neji.” Hiashi bends next to Sasuke. “Boy,” he says quietly, “I’m terribly sorry about what happened to your family.”

It’s suddenly hard for Sasuke to breathe. “It’s okay,” he chokes out. “I’m fine.”

Hiashi looks sad, for a moment. “If your father --”

Sasuke interrupts him. “I need to go.” He doesn’t care if it’s rude. He needs to leave, right away. He can’t stand here, listening to yet another person offering stilted condolences. The walls are pressing in. The air is too thick. He needs to get outside.

Hiashi nods, once. “Go ahead.”

Sasuke doesn’t need any more encouragement. He doesn’t look back as he and Neji take off down the hall, and it isn’t until the two of them are outside that Sasuke realizes that Neji is still holding his hand.

“Um.” Neji seems to realize it at the same time as Sasuke, and quickly pulls away, leaving Sasuke’s hand strangely cold. “Sorry. I don’t have to walk you home. I just wanted to get out of there.”

“Right. It’s fine.” Sasuke scuffs his feet on the sidewalk, kicking a loose pebble over the curb. “I was kind of rude before. Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry my uncle was so rude.” Neji frowns down at his hands and Sasuke is shocked, suddenly -- when he makes an expression like that, Neji looks just like Hiashi. “You can still come over, you know.”

“Yeah.” Sasuke fidgets, hoping Neji isn’t just saying that to be polite. “I don’t want to cause you any more trouble --”

“No!” Neji says suddenly, jerking his head up. “No, it’s fine. You can come over anytime. Really.”

Sasuke gets a sick feeling in his stomach. “Neji, did you hear what your uncle said to me in the hallway?” This is too familiar. The sudden magnanimity. The lack of eye contact. He pities me.

But Neji looks puzzled now. “No. What did he say?”

Sasuke studies Neji for a moment. He doesn’t appear to be lying. Is it possible that he doesn’t know about Sasuke’s family…? “Nothing,” he says finally. “It was just about not getting lost on the way back.”

Neji raises his eyebrows, and Sasuke gets the feeling that he doesn’t quite believe him, but he lets it drop. “Okay. Well, are you sure you don’t want any company on the way home?”

“Um. Yeah.” Sasuke bites his lip. “I’ll… see you later, I guess.” He turns, about to set off for home, but Neji touches him on the shoulder.

“Wait.” Sasuke turns back, and it’s his turn to raise his eyebrows. Neji’s cheeks are a light pink (thankfully, he’s changed into his normal cargo pants and t-shirt combination since last night) and he’s still not meeting Sasuke’s eyes. Here it comes, Sasuke thinks, and braces himself for the inevitable. He knows, and he feels sorry for me.

“You could come over again tomorrow, if you like.” Neji toes the sidewalk cracks with his shoe. “I mean, if you’re not busy.”

“Right. Sure.” Sasuke can feel his own face growing hot. “Okay. That sounds good.”

“Really?” Neji’s head shoots up. “G-Good. Yes. Okay.” He nods, once, and drops his gaze. “Okay. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah.” Sasuke nods, even though Neji isn’t looking at him. “I’ll come up the fire escape.”

“No, I can meet you at the door.” Neji smiles a little. “You don’t have to sneak, if you don’t want to.”

Sasuke cracks a grin. “All right. See you then.” He turns and strolls away down the street, trying to hide the way his heart is pounding so hard he feels like it’s going to crack a rib, and an enormous smile is stretching across his face.