since your paper heart stopped beating ;

So I made stuff that's really kind of gay

2008-12-27T04:32:47Z

LOOK. LOOK WHAT I MADE:

and

I think they're gay, but I made them. ♥

expressthetruth @ 2008-12-26T02:19:00

2008-12-26T07:26:20Z

HAY GUIZE!

Wow. I haven't been in my own journal in, like---FOREVER. Sorry about that. XD; I guess I've been busy with life and stuff, and I never really got around to posting or anything. But pffft, like anyone's interested in me.

BUT YEAH.

♥

How are you guys doing? I KIND OF MISSED EVERYONE. ;__;

INTERESTING SQUID?

2008-11-03T22:48:50Z

WAI NO MOAR POST, MA?

I have a simple answer: NO CHANCE. srsly. But I'm back on LJ, though only now and again, since I don't RP here anymore and don't have any other reason to stay. Maybe I'll just rant in my journal sometimes or post crappy!fic that makes me want to barf.

BUT ANYWAY. :'D

I want to see Saw V. I really do.

~~...Did you know that you can fit eight people on one double-sized bed without having anyone on top of each other? .__.~~

Eww, sick D:

2008-09-05T10:26:50Z

As some of you may know, a seasonal transition is never complete without me getting ill first. This time was kind of worse than others, though, and I missed two out of four days of school this week (and many hours of studying for a speech I have in civics today .__.). I'm feeling better now, though; Mama thinks it was just a minor sinus infection or allergy or something to do with the changing weather. Or something. I really should have gotten online for at least five minutes so you guys didn't think I got banned from the internet again -- because really, by now that is a very predictable thing. (Although, having only an hour per weekday is sort of only a short step away from being banned, anyway.)

In other news: Wednesday, while searching for something to do, I found a game in my movie cabinet that I never knew I had -- Xenosaga Episode II. I’m playing it now, and even though it drags in some parts, is confusing at times, has strange graphics and movie scenes that are hours long, I really enjoy it. I mean, most RPGs are good to me regardless, so. (Just one question: Is it essential for every anime/manga/game to include at least one character by the name Sakura? D:)

Annnd I’m going to start reading the Saint Germain series. It’s nothing like Twilight, I know, but Mama has a good taste in books (well, despite the fact that she reads Dean Koontz way too much to be considered healthy) and she read the Twilight series and said that when she was younger the Saint Germain books were the popular vampire thing. And there are twenty books so far, I think, so I guess I’ll be occupied for a while. XD

I guess that’s it for now. :3 Sorry, Jess, for not being able to RP, and Abby for not being able to talk. I’ll probably be online tonight, though, so. <3

MORE ANGST

2008-08-30T17:35:20Z

I know this gets old, but:

WTF, SARAH, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO WORK MORNINGS?

D:

Fanfic50 Prompt Table

2008-08-27T21:53:56Z

001.	Finish	002.	Nothing	003.	Alone	004.	Desperate	005.	Down
006.	Tongue	007.	Hair	008.	Kiss	009.	Smile	010.	Imagine
011.	Defy	012.	Notice	013.	Celebrate	014.	Morgue	015.	Charm
016.	Bath	017.	Dance	018.	Scream	019.	Kick	020.	Feel
021.	Stutter	022.	Learn	023.	Fight	024.	Steal	025.	Fascinate
026.	Forget	027.	Hurt	028.	Never	029.	Close	030.	Fade
031.	Direction	032.	Road	033.	Question	034.	Between	035.	Trap
036.	Dress	037.	Admit	038.	Chance	039.	Believe	040.	Dream
041.	Shine	042.	Tied	043.	Conspire	044.	Couple	045.	Undercover
046.	Care	047.	Creep	048.	Empty	049.	Bones	050.	Writers' Choice

Old Paint (fic)

2008-08-27T21:23:09Z

Title: Old Paint
Rating: G
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: B/Near
Summary: Near scrabbles at the paint because his fingers hold secrets that he tries to cover up.
Notes: A random drabble. I should be working on my 30_kisses, but this includes the same couple, so. XD

-------

He watches the paint peel into thin curls until he can pull on them, and, with the smallest amount of effort, tear away the glossy color. The old strips are few and far between, but he discovers them hidden on the house's siding in places scarcely visited, tucked beneath tiny drapes of vines that curtain them from but the keenest of eyes.

Near has a gift for finding things that do not want to be found.

He sits and tugs at the white ribbons of paint in the company of no more than himself

"You're following me," he says one day. His voice is very subtle, and he keeps his eyes on the wall as he kneels on the grass, pallid skin stained with dirt.

The boy beside him shrugs. "Maybe," is his reply, spoken in a tone just as cool as Near's had been. Even more so, perhaps. "Do you want me to stop?"

Near pauses for a brief moment. "Will you?"

"Most likely not."

Near can feel the boy lean close and take hold of his hand, the one that had previously scrabbled at the wall. White paint clings beneath his fingernails. "You shouldn't do that," he hears the boy say. "It will ruin your fingers."

The boy bends his head and pressed his lips against Near's hand.

"Maybe they are already ruined," Near mutters coldly, jerking his hand away. "And if they weren't before, then they are now." He turns his hand over and inspects it, then raises a knee and brushed off the excess grass.

"Maybe," the boy says, grinning as he stands. No dirt or grass clings to him, though. He saunters into the house whilst humming a small tune; Near cannot identify the song.

The faint kiss lingers on Near's skin. He looks down at his hand and raises his fingertips to eyelevel, and he can see the remnants of paint jutting from under his nails. Sighing, he knows the boy had been right; however, his fingers are ruined now regardless. He examines the wall once and sees that the new, lustrous paint far outweighs the aged color that hides beneath it.

The secrets burn through his façade, and Near thinks that his fingers feel a little like the old paint.

SO YEAH

2008-08-27T10:25:41Z

Yesterday Mama told me that on weekdays I am allowed one hour per day on the internet. My subtle response to this:

WTF, MAN. D:

SRSLY SRS

2008-08-25T22:12:46Z

So, Saturday Blake and I went and saw Batman: The Dark Knight, and I have one thing to say about this:

HEATH LEDGER MAKES THE BEST JOKER EVAR.
~~It sucks he died. ;__;~~

(and rotfl at Batman's voice. It was hilarious.)

expressthetruth @ 2008-08-25T16:49:00

2008-08-25T20:51:48Z

My sister stalks everything I do online. Which is starting to get amusing, because I think she's deleted both my AIM and MSN messenger at least three times now. But, y'know, it's also starting to get old.

She's 21. I'm 15. I don't need my "big sissy" acting like my mother all the time, kthnx.

Sexy Tiem?

2008-04-10T02:16:14Z

Uah. If ever a sexy moment in role-play, this does it for me: http://justiceishot.livejournal.com/1601.html

Though the sexy doesn't start until about the middle of the thread or so. But still. -drool-

B: Myself
L: meepishly_yours

Falter (fic)

2008-04-07T21:25:10Z

Title: Falter
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: B/L
Rating: PG
Summary: In a way, he loved hating L.
Notes: More dndressingroom fic. Mmm.

- + -

He faltered, sometimes. But it was only in the small, almost unnoticeable ways, and only for an instant. He would stagger on clumsy feet, because although many thought of him to be a sturdy being, he was really just a gawky little thing.

He hated the shade of his skin. His--L’s skin, he really hated it. And he hated L’s voice, more so than his own voice, and he would sneer and turn his noise up when it chimed in his ears. Chimed, yes, quite so, like a broken lullaby that no one wants to hear (but it comes back to you in the middle of the night when you’re shaking in your sleep, and that’s the time you are most thankful for it).

He also hated the way L thought. So rational, so smooth. L could never just do anything without proper reasoning, and in a way neither could he. But then again, he hated himself as well. But, really, he hated L in a different way.

He hated L in that loathsome, maddening rage, one that made him crave to get his fingers around the man’s neck and--and, and he felt like screaming at L, shouting at the tip of his lungs, because he was only just human, after all.

He hated L that way, in the way that he wanted to feel L squirm beneath him, helpless, pitiful just like the pathetic thing that he was, to hear him scream his name, hear him--cry. He wanted all of those things, but in the end, all that came was a curse under his breath, several drawn out pants, chest heaving, and the fluttering of half-lidded eyes.

Bathroom door opened.

Click.

He really hated L. Just in a different way.

expressthetruth @ 2008-04-05T02:11:00

2008-04-05T06:15:29Z

Title: Pocket Aces
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: B/Matt
Rating: PG
Notes: I need a new fandom, yeesh.

- + -

At times, B wanted Matt’s goggles.

Really badly.

He thought that maybe he could hide behind them- thought that maybe that was what Matt had been doing all along. Once, he even asked Matt if he could wear them.

“Why?” Matt had said, simply.

B gave a small shrug. “Why not?”

“You’re very difficult,” Matt scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to his game.

“Oh yes,” B giggled. “B already knows this. So, can I?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Matt sighed, irritated. “Look, go mess with Near or something. I bet he’ll appreciate your company much more.”

B frowned and folded his arms. “But Matt,” he whined, “Near doesn’t have the Goggles. Neither does Mello, or, or-- L. L doesn’t have them either. Only Matt.”

“Go buy your own.”

“With what money, Matt?”

He gave up. Groaning, and simply wanting time to himself, Matt removed the goggles and handed them over to B, who beamed. The boy took them eagerly. “Look, just don’t break ‘em or get any scratches on ‘em, okay?” he said, a bit skeptical and already regretting his decision.

“Oh, thank you, Matt.” With a broad smile, B put the goggles on his own head, covering his eyes, and adjusted them. Immediately he fell silent, frowning. “…See, Matt? I knew it.”

Matt raised an eyebrow and looked away from his game. “What are you talking about?”

B sighed and took off the goggles. He carelessly dropped them on the floor, ignoring the way Matt winced in return. “They don’t work,” he whispered. He closed his eyes. “They- they don’t, Matt.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” said Matt, his voice a grumble. He brushed the dirt off of the goggle’s lens.

Taking the goggles from Matt, who huffed and narrowed his eyes, and turning them over in his hand, B smiled weakly. “Nope, nope,” he said, and handed them back to their owner. “They don’t stop me from seeing the numbers like I had thought. What a pity.”

Matt stared at him, baffled. “…What?”

“Nothing, Matt.” B waved his hand dismissively.

“You’re a strange, strange kid,” Matt said, shaking his head at B before returning to his game.

B chuckled to himself. “Aren’t I, though?” he whispered, eyes wistful.

Maybe Matt’s goggles weren’t really all they were cracked up to be.

fic

2008-04-04T21:57:53Z

Title: Hard Candy
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: B/L
Rating: M/NC-17
Summary: It was one of the things L lived for, and sometimes he almost didn't regret indulging himself in it.
Notes: For meepishly_yours -- a friend and fellow role-player~

- + -

L should not have been there. Not there. Not indulging in that, that--"hard candy," he called it, that delicious, sickeningly sweet thing hiding in his conscience. Instead, he should have been working, doing things that actually mattered to the other people, to himself but this was necessary. Necessary--and it was not the first time.

A few had become suspicious at the time L took off from the Kira case, and not a soul knew what he did with that time. Only he, he and that lying, arrogant bastard--that pathetic excuse of a human. That one people called Beyond Birthday.

He slid himself so perfectly against L, hands roaming, wandering--yes, yes, L liked that, when he felt those long, pale fingers snake into his pants and rub at his clothed erection. He was always--hard, always--eager, nowadays, just at the sight of that cocky man, because he knew. L knew that he had something to look forward to, now.

Look forward to. A low moan escaped him, and he was guilty, guilty for letting himself be so easily persuaded. It was the same always, always the same; they fought, battled, though the outcome was inevitable, and L hissed sharply. Cold hands wrapping around his member, causing him to squirm against the wall, uncomfortable and sharp against his spine. But he didn’t mind. The pain was in the back, even if just recently he had discovered the forced pleasure he received from being hurt.

Masochism? It had never occurred to L.

Perhaps--B. B seemed like that type of person, being abused, being wounded, it was all so beneficiary to him. L would take advantage of this someday, he knew, someday. However, B was too quick for him, the ripped pieces of cloth bounding his wrists to the bedpost too--quick, and to his demise, that damned extra piece between his lips, gagging him and bringing him to the edge of tears. B was too smooth, he thought, the man cupping L’s cheek in his hand as though he genuinely cared.

It was all so fake. So fake, L knew.

He pretended, too.

The games were fun for B. They were satisfactory, and after all, it was only that escape L searched for, both he and B. No reason to hide it. "I just want you for this," he told B on their second meeting, his hands retracting and fingers balling into fists at every sensation. He shuddered. The feeling, it was something he loved, feeling B’s fingers work him hard and fast, thumb pressing against the head of his cock and making him throw his head back against the wall, body slick with sweat. "O-only this."

Maybe it was more. He wasn’t so certain, at this point. He had always wanted, wanted someone to touch him, feel him, make him numb and hurt him. Years wasted away with nothing there, and now, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling harshly against B’s, he felt almost--full. The void within him slowly filling, but he was aware that it would not last. It never did.

That one instant, that moment; it was all he ever wanted.

B had never responded to L‘s words, which L was thankful for. B’s ministrations, those fingers, it was enough, more than words could ever tell him, and besides--it was much more fulfilling, and he took in a shuddery breath, eyes closed. They had been for some time; he wasn’t really sure how long they had been like that but he did not worry about it, just concentrated on that feeling, B’s hand sliding against him. He could feel B also, cracking his eye open to see him touching himself with his free hand, lips parted in a soft pant. L closed his eyes again. The sight drove him mad.

Why was it so painfully arousing to watch that fucker jack off? He growled and bucked his hips, pushing himself deeper into B’s hand. Yes, he wanted that. A bit of drool had began to slide down his chin, escaping him and the cloth, now causing L to have a burning sense in his throat. It hurt so, so bad. His body was frantic, coiled tightly, and he moaned throatily when B removed his hand, slick with pre-cum, and lifted his fingers to his mouth and gave them long, protracted licks, his expression full of scorn.

L hated him. He narrowed his eyes, feeling ridiculously empty. The strips of cloth holding his hands down were digging into his skin, and he knew in the back of his mind that marks would be there for some time. Coming up with clever excuses yet again was the least of his worries, though, and he groaned, annoyed, leaning his head back against the backboard of B’s bed. Damn unpleasant son of a-

Oh shiiit.

L gasped, always did, when B thrust himself into L. Unprepared--the bastard, making it hurt so much. He whimpered, jaws in agony, wrists completely numb. B cooed softly in his ear, kissed him on the forehead, and rocked into him. It was fast, always so--fast, quick, hips moving with L’s in a frantic motion. "Oh, oh, L--now, it’s okay," he whispered, and licked the shell of L’s ear. L shuddered, a prickly sensation running down his side, his hairs standing on end. So much, so much. B removed the cloth in L’s mouth and caught his lips in a feverish kiss, forcing his tongue into L’s mouth with a demanding grunt. L obeyed, but only because he wanted to feel too, his own tongue sliding meekly against B’s in a battle of dominance.

B thrust harder.

L knew he would. Defying B was asking for it, asking for punishment, and he wanted that, wanted B to slam into him as hard as he could. "You’re a bad child," B hissed into L’s ear. His fingernails dug into L’s wrists, deep--deep, and he slid them down, down, down, red blood-streaks burning a path down L arms to his shoulders. L gasped, then moaned. It felt like fire. Like--fire, and it felt so goddamn good. "M-more," he said shakily, lips but a quiver.

B was fascinated, mesmerized at his words, at his lips, and he licked his own and pulled back on L, fingers now on the man’s hips and squeezing tight-tightly, and he slammed himself back in, a sharp moan tearing from him. L tried, but failed, to suppress his cries, curses, moans, to keep everything locked away. But he heard B, heard him moan so, so deliciously, saw his eyes slide shut, saw his shoulders wobble, falter.

He saw him mouth words that he could not make out.

"More," he demanded. L, he was never happy with anything. Nothing was not enough, never enough. He arched his back when B snarled, screaming at him, and sped, pushing him--pushing him roughly into the mattress, which creaked in protest, moved with the both of them, shaking, shaking just like L. He shook so damn much, and his fingers were limp then, the feeling fuzzy, his own mind taking the same outlook. It was all blurry, blurry and hot.

So fucking hot.

He panted, breaths coming in short turns, hips now ablaze, hurting badly--badly, but he did not think to stop; instead, he quickened, trying to drive B, drive him, and B kept up effortlessly, his arms on both sides of L’s head, both of their foreheads, beaded with sweat, together. Their eyes were closed tightly, and L could feel it rising in his stomach, twisted within him. His cries increased in volume, and all B could say in return was, "Shut the fuck up."

He didn’t--didn’t, and didn’t want to. He resisted B so well, but was always pulled back into the tide, rushing, sensations flooding over him. Gasping for breath, he could no longer think coherently or control his movements, everything a--blur. B clenched his teeth, eyebrows knitted, and shoved himself into L relentlessly, his actions brutal, and it was enough, sensory overload--enough to send L over the edge.

Panting quickly, hardly enough air to fill his lungs, L spilled over, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he felt himself release into a series of violent spasms, muscles clenching tightly, tightly--so good, so excellent. His back arched against the mattress, mouth open in a frozen yell, and B came into him hard, his body seizing up, fingers clawing at the sheets. "Fuck fuck fuckkk." A hot, sticky liquid slid down L’s legs; his legs, trembling, twitching still from the shock of orgasm.

The two men fell against one another in an awful, horrible, beautiful way.

Their pants were slow and aligned, B’s breathing harshly against L’s neck, and L’s head lolled to the side, eyes half-lidded. B didn’t pull out of L--not yet, no. He shifted, feeling, and he moaned a little. L inhaled deeply, and asked in a low voice if B could untie him. His hands were entirely numb.

This is where they would depart wordlessly--where they would return to life seemingly unfazed and continue with their lives until they were fated to meet again. L was so, so afraid that every time was the last. It was only for the feeling, though; only for those touches, the sensations tearing through his being. Only, only.

He thought, as he staggered out of the apartment, hair a mess and the scent of sex lingering on his clothes, that maybe B had mouthed the words "I love you" back there.

But he wasn’t so sure.

fic

2008-02-15T03:20:19Z

Title: Trivial
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: B/Near
Rating: G
Summary: How trivial, Valentine's Day.
Notes: Valentine's ficlet for rinnakins (ilu Rinna~ <3) Didn't really know what else to write? Ehh. -flail

- + -

How trivial, Valentine’s day.

“Didn’t Shakespeare write about it?”

Near looks up from his cards and sees B peering over his shoulder. “Hamlet, right? He mentioned St. Valentine‘s Day, I think.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” says Near, and closes his eyes as the last card is added to the very top of his structure.

“I think it’s quite nice,” B says with a chuckle. “But it seems as though you built it for yourself- a gift, perhaps? What, did no one get N anything meaningful for such an occasion?”

Near brushes him off and stands up, stretching his limbs in a cat-like manner. “Quiet, you,” he says.

B narrows his eyes with a snicker and says, “Oh, N, surly you’re gotten a Valentine’s present or two?”

“Of no importance to you,” Near says.

“It means plenty to me, my sweet N; I feel bad for you, really.”

“You haven’t gotten anything either,” says Near, and he patiently waits for B’s response.

His eyes are pale in the room’s shadows. “I suppose you’re right,” he says quietly. “Really, though, I feel like I have gotten the best gift.” His lips twist into a sinister smile.

“And what would that be…?”

B shakes his head, looks to the ground. His feet make lazy circles on the dirty carpet. “Nothing, nothing. I just like to see you cry. It’s so sad that you feel pain for the lack of compassion, but it’s reasonable. I care about N, though. I care about him so.”

“You’ve never seen me cry.”

“You’re crying right now,” B whispers.

fic

2008-02-15T02:01:00Z

Title: Wonderful Nothing
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing(s): Mello/Near, Mello/Matt
Rating: G
Summary: Near thinks his gift is just as good.
Notes: A first in my stack of Valentine's drabbles for this year. This one is for nobody in particular (but il all you guysssss~ <3)

Near thinks that Mello will give Matt a gift for Valentine’s Day. He did this last year, and the year before, and the year before. But he knows he won’t get one, because he never does- not last year or any year before that.

And as though out of the blue, “Here,” Mello snorts, and hands him a small box. He frowns indignantly. February fourteenth has arrived, crept upon the Wammy’s House without much notice, and as expected Matt and Mello have exchanged gifts. But much to his surprise, Near has received something as well. He looks down at the box with wide eyes and turns it over; it’s slightly damaged and is in poor condition, some of the paper torn and some odd discoloring.

“Candy hearts,” he reads aloud, and to him the title is all but blatant. There is no nametag on the box. Just the box of hearts, and with Mello standing in front of him he opens it and takes out a piece. ‘Cutie Pie,’ it reads, and he eyes it curiously. He pops it in his mouth, bites down and chews a few times. He thinks for a moment before speaking. “Tastes like chalk.”

“Yeah, well, beggars can’t be choosers,” Mello says crossly.

Near shakes his head and sets the box down on a table. “I suppose not,” he replies. “Thank you, Mello.”

Mello rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

Near watches him walk away. He looks at Matt’s gift, the newest addition to his game console, and the boy seems more than pleased with it; he’s thanking Mello and smiling and touching all over his new game. Near looks at the box of chalky hearts, crumpled and not so good with a strange aftertaste, and he grins.

He knows that deep down his present is much better than Matt’s is. Still smiling, he takes another candy and eats it-- pretends that it tastes as good as it means.

fic

2008-02-13T00:35:21Z

Title: Think Kaleidoscope
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing(s): Nearcentric
Rating: G
Summary: It's all in your head.
Notes: Bwahaha, I don't know. Written out of boredom, I suppose.

- + -

Near thinks in shades of white- pure, harmless insights that make him crinkle his nose or curl his toes when he has them, and many times he will raise his eyebrows, wonder, ‘Where did that thought come from?’ or, ‘That’s the silliest thing ever- it just doesn’t make any sense!’ He brushes off these spur-of-the-moment ideas with nothing more than a shake of the head, and returns to the more important things.

But these are the harmless thoughts that keep him sane.

Near thinks in shades of grey, dark colors that burn him from the tip-tip-tippy toes to the top of his head. These thoughts make him frown, make him confused and it’s everything he can do but ask himself, ‘Would everything be better that way? If this were to be, would so-and-so be here- would they approve?’ It’s the dark, the tainted, the black black black and he feels it pulling at his sanity.

But these are the darkest thoughts that keep him aware.

Near thinks in shades of yellow, the brightest of him all- He sees himself teen years from now and can’t help but think, ‘This is a good day,’ with a smile. ‘A good day, indeed.’ He feels it, the colors, and they tear a hole in the blackness (“Tear my ribs apart and let the sunshine in”), and to him it’s a strange, strange feeling.

But these are the bright, cheerful thoughts that keep him happy.

Near thinks in shades of pink, and these are the warmth, the softness that nestles deep down, far beyond where the fingers can brush against. He hides these thoughts from others mind, and sometimes he opens up his little box and peeks inside; a soft smile graces him, and for once he feels human. These are the thoughts that no one can see, however; these are the thoughts that no one expects.

But these are the thoughts that keep him alive.

expressthetruth @ 2008-02-10T19:29:00

2008-02-11T00:35:37Z

Title: Denial, Denial
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Mello/Near
Rating: PG
Summary: It's never good enough, good enough to make you tremble.
Notes: Because rinnakins made me obsessed with Near. :B

Near builds a tower of cards. Sometimes he wants to hide inside it.

“Complete,” he says to himself, admiring the structure. He bends his index finger, and the small puppet there nods its head. “Do you think it is good, L?” He waits for a response. Then, he sighs, lips twisting into a frown. “No, no, you’re right. It isn’t- it isn’t good enough. L, it isn’t good enough.” More quietly, “It’s never good enough.”

Using the puppet as a tool, he presses gently against the base of the card tower. The cards topple over and scatter on the floor. “No, not good enough. I will have to try again, won’t I, L?”

“Like L would really waste his time with card houses,” Mello scoffs. He folds his arms.

Near looks at him curiously. “Perhaps, Mello,” he replies.

“I don’t see why.”

Near takes a few cards in his hands and begins stacking them. “Look,” he whispers after pushing them over. “Look at what I have done.”

Mello leans forward as though he has missed something. He narrows his eyes. “You built a house and knocked it over. So what?”

“Oh, I did much more than that,” Near says, picking up a toy car and running it over the fallen cards. “I have created something and destroyed it with much less effort.”

Mello snorts. “Happens all the time,” he says. “No big deal.”

Near bites his thumb softly and thinks. “I suppose so.”

The toy’s wheels squeak under Near’s fingers. “I will name this car M,” he says quietly, grinning. “I will name this car M.”

He starts rebuilding his tower of cards. This time he will hide inside it.

fic

2008-02-11T00:28:54Z

Title: Snake Eyes
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: B/Near
Rating: PG
Summary: Now is when we break.
Notes: For rinnakins (ilu so much Rinna~ ;___;) from the prompt "dice".

He can see it, sometimes. He can see it in the way B comes upon things, the way he speaks and carries himself. “N is not L,” he says to Near one day. Near looks up from his chess board. “N is not as smart as L.”

“What is it you’re going on about?” Near replies quietly, picking up a queen in his nimble fingers. He sets it down and takes a knight instead.

B chuckles, slouches in his chair. “Why don’t you play something else?” he suggests. “Play something with dice.”

Near glances at him. “And why is that?”

“Because chess has no numbers,” B says.

Near blinks and looks back to at board. “Numbers don’t always matter,” he says, and knocks over a pawn. He puts the knight in its place and relaxes his shoulders. “It all depends on strategy.”

“And strength,” B adds.

“Strength isn’t everything.”

B shakes his head. “I did not say that. You weren’t listening,” he chirps. “N really is not as smart as L.”

Near says nothing.

“But oh- N is truly great, really he is. I think N could be dice if he wanted to.” He grins. “I think N has numbers just like the dice.”

Near takes the queen once again and moves it. B crouches beside the board. “See, that should not have been done. If you were smart you wouldn’t have moved that piece, surely.”

“Perhaps I was testing you,” Near says calmly.

“Oh, N would never do that,” B says. He giggles childishly and closes his eyes. He hums softly. “No, N would not risk losing. N does not like losing. N is like L- he does not like losing.” His smile stretches, and he brushes a piece of hair out of Near’s face. “But N is not as smart as L. N will lose it all.”

Near sighs, thinks for a moment. “You seem so certain.”

“But I am,” B says. “Why can’t you play something with dice? N, I want to play something with dice.”

“Then do it,” Near says, and brushes B off with a hand gesture.

“No fun,” B whispers, and takes a pair of die from a desk drawer. The red cubes are tossed into the air, and they land softly in B’s hands. “These are fun,” he says, keeping his smile.

He throws the die onto the chess board, and many of Near’s pieces fall. They land on the floor with a soft thud. Near looks up at him, then at the board and the pieces, and he sighs.

“See, N? Snake eyes.” B picks up the pieces and stuffs them in his pocket. “No, no, N is not as smart as L.”

expressthetruth @ 2008-02-08T21:19:00

2008-02-09T02:25:14Z

Title: Hand Me Down
Rating: PG
Fandom: Neopets
Summary: Or put me out, if anything.
Notes: I think I wrote this about half a year ago, when I was really into Neopets. I submitted it to The Neopian Times several times, and each time they sent it back with some kind of problem. So it was never posted, and in the end I knew it was doomed to rot in my files. Rot in my files, or my Livejournal. Whichever is best.

Hand Me Down
- - - -
Or put me out, if anything.
- - - -

It was cold outside. Cold, and it was snowing. I could feel the chilled air rustle through my fur, creeping into my skin. I shuddered and huddled deeper into the small, ragged sheet beside me in a desperate attempt for warmth. Late December already? The twenty-fourth I suppose, meaning there was but one day remaining until I, a homeless pet, would be adopted.

Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect in my new family. I know there were things I wished for, longed for, but then again I did not want to get my hopes up like so many times before. “In September,” a maintenance man told me one day as he swept the halls long after closing time, “you will be adopted. I’ll make sure of it.” September rolled by. No one came for me. And really, I hadn’t counted on it.

If there is one thing in the world I cannot stand, it’s a liar. That is exactly what he was.

He was such a nice man. Sweet and caring, he was the one that found homes for abandoned pets here at the Neopian pound. Many of the pets, left behind in dirty, cramped cages, looked up to him. They followed him. Derek was his name, and a majority of the pets adored him.

But I, on the other hand, hated him.

I hated him more than anything, and no one knew why. Not even the pet living in the cage beside me could find a reason, for she often questioned me about it. I had no desire to speak with her though. Disowned and lonely, the long days had made me weary, made me ill and weak. I could barely stand on my own, and often times I found myself with a welling hunger that was never satisfied. All the things I once loved, once cherished, had now become empty and far away. Too far away.

I could almost feel the warmth of a fire one night.

I remembered my old family. It contained one person: Dameon, my owner, and he loved me. At least, I thought he did. Liked me, anyways, because he treated me well. I was pampered in those days, dressed at times in extravagant scarves and collars. The coat of fur I acquired, sleek and shiny, the most dazzling shade of ruby red, was groomed at all times, shimmering to perfection. Three meals a day, a well-balanced diet it was, and I was in tiptop shape. My bed, every waking night, was near a fireplace. I remember hearing the faint crackling just before my tired eyes fell shut.

Then, I awake to the smell of grime and mold, and the only noise in my ears were the rustling of foraging rats far below my cage. My prison.

I was trapped.

December twenty-fifth came slowly. Not that I was hopeful that a person would actually care to stop by my cell and take a look at my gritty figure. I was skinny, malnourished. The color of my fur was a dull red. My eyes were cold and lifeless, and it was all I could do to blink my life away, staring through a shadowed window that was far beyond my reach. If only…. If only I could slip through those cursed bars! Oh woe was me, the homeless one, crying out in silence for someone else to hear!

When Christmas rolled around the corner, I thought someone had taken notice of my prayers.

Danielle was her name, but she preferred to be called Danny. “Because I’m not a girl!” she said when a man asked why, why in the world, she would want to change such a pretty feminine name to that of a boy. “And don’t expect me to act like one, either.” She crossed her arms with a huff, and blew a tuft of hair out of her face. Her hair always did that, hanging in little clumps before her emerald eyes.

They looked into things farther than I could tell, farther than any would ever be able to, but when she rested her gaze on me, I knew she felt something. I put a paw to one of the steel bars, cold under my pads, and I inhaled sharply at the sensation.

She approached me, ignoring Derek as he continued to speak with her and sweep simultaneously, and cocked her head to the side. From my end of the cage, I was safe from her touch. Perhaps I did not wish to be, and maybe, just maybe, I wanted to feel the gentleness, the sincerity of a human hand once again. Her fingers snaked through the bars, skinny, delicate fingers, reaching out for me, and immediately I fled to the back. To the shadows I departed, fur bristling, and curled myself into a tight ball.

I saw her gasp and withdraw with a glint of fear in her eyes.

She left the room, silently, slowly, and my chance at happiness had fled just as quickly as it had come.

- - - -

Derek bathed me the following day. I resisted, of course, writhing and struggling in his strong clutch to get myself loose. If I was able to do so, I could flee for the open door, but Derek was much smarter than I. He kept a firm grip, fingers coiled into my long fur as he scrubbed my shaggy figure. “Today you are leaving,” he said to my surprise. He stopped then, soap suds popping around me, water ceasing its flowing ripples, and I heard him sigh. His warms gray eyes fell on me.

I hated him.

“You’re leaving today, with or without an owner. You will become a rogue pet if no one adopts you by noontime. I know you’re not happy here- I’ve known for quite some time now. Maybe I’ve known since you arrived here three years ago. But you just might be able to find happiness or peace out there on your own. And, if you do happen to find an owner that will love and care for you as Dameon did, I wish you luck in finding a name.”

He had never spoken to me this way before.

Even so, I despised him for his mockery. Who was he to tell me how I would become content? Did he know what I wanted? I think not. He was a mere human- He could never be able to understand my feelings. Never.

I sprang from his arms then, water splashing from my body, and sprinted toward the door. It was cracked, the only source of sunlight leaking through it. I was so close, so close at my first peak of freedom. I could taste it, could feel it coursing through my veins! Any other thought quickly disappeared as I crossed to the other side, emerging into the open world for the first time in so long.

It was not anything I had expected.

It was a cold, heartless world outside, colder than the world I knew before. The streets were nearly bare around that time, and not a single pair of eyes turned to notice me. They did not want to, I assumed. I sighed tiresomely. Were was I to begin? The journey ahead of me was going to be hard, I knew, but regardless I trekked on down the rocky sidewalks without a soul to lead me through.

I was a nameless Xweetok with the image of happiness engraved into my mind, and my heart.

- - - -

The first day, I traveled along the same road for nearly ten miles. It was a long walk, just as I had figured, but it came to a curious intersection with zooming cars that raised my interest. Yes, the vehicles scared me, and no, I did not want to get close to them. However, I found no other way to get across, so I waited frantically for the traffic to subside and the cars to clear away. At the first chance, I sped across the black terrain, reaching the opposing side in a matter of seconds.

I sat there, panting, out of breath, and very tired. This was a result of not eating properly in many, many months. I was starving to death, but this I already knew. I staggered to my aching paws again and looked to the sky. The sun was low then, almost disappearing below the curtain of distant clouds. The sky was painted a brilliant hue of purples and pinks. The reflection glimmered in my wistful eyes, for I imagined that one day, maybe in the past, maybe in the future, I could bet hat beautiful.

A snarling noise sent a chill down my spine. Every hair covering my body stood on end, and I slowly turned to face two Gelerts. They stood their ground, lips raised to flash their sparkling fangs, dripping with saliva. I gulped and became immobile, paralyzed with terror. Help me, someone! I thought. It was all I could do at this point. Crying out was not possible. The pets I had been faced with would tear me apart mercilessly.

“Heh heh, look what we’ve got here, Iliad. A scared little Xweetok, probably homeless.” It was a flame printed Gelert that spoke up, and it began circling me in an attempt to intimidate me even further. And I say, it was working quite well. My heart raced, pounding in my ears. Blood flowed rapidly to my head, and I felt dizzy, lightheaded, as if I would collapse at any given moment.

The second Gelert stood back; seeming more collected, it said, “Fercardo, quite your nonsense.” Ah, a rational pursuer. “Do not claw him apart until he has been interrogated.” Or not.

Fercardo nodded to him gray colored partner, a devious grin playing on his lips. “Of course, Iliad.” He turned to me again and leaned close, almost pressing his muzzle against my own. “So, what’s your name?” he asked.

“…I-I don’t know,” I said in a small voice, barely audible.

The Gelert pulled away, puzzled. “You don’t know?” he echoed. An angry expression crawled across his face. And then, one of humor. Intense humor, as though I had said something funny. He began to cackle. “He doesn’t know his own name, Iliad! What a liar!” The last part, I noted, had been a snap of his jaws.

Iliad made his way toward me. “If he does not tell us his identity, he will die. Slowly,” he added, “instead of a quick, painful death.” His statement was so nonchalant it scared me. “Tell us,” he demanded, and extended a sharp claw before my eyes, “or I will personally tear you open.”

I closed my eyes, hopeless and afraid, and sank low to the ground. What was I to do! There was nothing- no way out of this! All I could do was wait for it to all be over…

Just then, I heard a loud howling in the distance. Perhaps…this was not over just yet.

A Lupe sprang from the distance and delivered a blow to Iliad. The Gelert, stunned, wailed in pain. A fresh set of claw marks burned through the flesh of his cheeks. He glared, and with a snarl turned on the cloud printed Lupe, tackling him to the cement underfoot. I loped away, unbeknownst to Fercardo, who was heated at the sight of the brawl.

“Get him, Iliad! Rip his pelt off, give him something he’ll remember!”

As he cheered his friend on, I merely watched mortified at the bloody scene. The Lupe did not back away, but quite the contrary. He managed to writhe from under Iliad and hold him down at the shoulders, pinning him and rendering him motionless. “Run, now!” he snarled viciously, blood dripping from his ripped fur.

Iliad did not protest; the moment he was released, he and Fercardo scampered away with tails between their legs. “Hey, wait up, Iliad!” Fercardo beckoned, finding himself lagging behind Iliad, who quite frankly was not wasting his escape time.

The Lupe stood upright, broad shoulders high. He licked at an injury on his shoulder and gave a “Humph” of satisfaction. “That’ll teach those scoundrels,” he grumbled. “That reminds me… Hey kid! You can come out now!”

I heard him call for me. Really, I did not want to go. I wanted to stay there, hidden behind a bush, and wait for him to leave so I could continue peacefully. However, he was my savior. He was the one who rescued me from those Gelerts, so I found myself walking cautiously to him. There was the chance he was after me, too, and his actions were but a deceiving way to get to me. He raised an eyebrow. “Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”

“Okay,” I said quietly, and trotted to his side. “….Thank you kindly for that. I do not know what I would do if you had not come along and fought off those Gelerts.”

“Ah, it was nothing,” he said with a wink. “They were easy to get rid of anyways. Did you see that stupid looking one? He didn’t even dare challenge me!” He was haughty, I discovered. But his intentions were good at least.

I laughed feebly and gave a small nod. “Yeah, sure,” I said.

He grinned. “My name is Altinuous. What is yours?”

I felt so inferior then. A pet without a name, who had ever heard such idiocy? “I…don’t have one,” I said anyway.

“You don’t have a name, huh?” Altinuous mumbled. “Well, good luck with finding one! Make it your goal, your mission! What a fun thing to search for. Finding yourself…. I really do wish you the best of luck.”

He nodded, as did I, and again another part of my life slipped away before my tired eyes.

- - - -

I slept beneath withered trees that night. Luckily, I had ventured far enough from the bustling city to enter a patch of woods. Despite the chance of danger there, I preferred it greatly. Food was found, much to my surprise. I munched on a good amount of berries until I felt full enough to sleep peacefully through the night.

The following morning, I awoke to find myself warm. Warmer than I last remembered anyways.

Where am I?
“Time to wake up,” I heard. Was that…Derek? What was he doing with me? He should have been back at the pound taking care of the other pets!
“It’s Christmas, you know. I bet you’re dying to meet your new family. Oh,” he added, “I forgot to tell you the news, eh? Seems someone did come for you after all!”
My eyes widened. Christmas? That meant…
“Oh,” Derek said with a hearty chuckle, “I hear a young boy in the family has chosen a name for you.”
…I could finally be…happy?
My tail swished, and for the first time in three years, I smiled.

fic

2008-02-03T21:06:31Z

Title: Seven Comes Slowly
Summary: It's everything we hear and feel and think and breathe.
Fandom: Original writing
Rating: G

- + -

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. -Anatole France

It's everything we hear and feel and think and breathe. To him, maybe it is more- to him, maybe he can’t feel, and in the back of his mind he knows there is chaos and ruin, but he can’t feel it.

Seven comes slowly that night, and he waits outside on the porch like he does every other time. His fingers wind in strange patterns, painting a picture in the sky and his mind that only he can see, and he smiles. Cars pass him, people pass him, dogs walk by without a simple glance, and he wonders how far- how far has he come to accomplish nothing? How many miles has he walked down this road to ruin for a handful of empty promises?

He stands, brushes of his pants, and walks away, off the porch where creaky steps and leaky ceilings are his home; maybe home has been where the crows lie this whole time, and in his life he has earned nothing but deserved a million golden flowers for his patience, for in his waiting there is nothing, nothing there besides broken promises- empty promises, and they burn him from the inside out.

Seven comes slowly, but happiness is slower.

expressthetruth @ 2008-01-24T15:59:00

2008-01-24T21:09:42Z

Title: Come See the Paradise
Rating: T
Pairing: SasuNaru, NaruSaku
Summary: Did you know that every fifteen seconds someone dies? This next fifteen seconds it'll be you, Naruto.
Notes: I'm bringing to my el of jay some works that weren't posted and/or have been deleted from FF. This was a oneshot that I didn't like too much, but the concept was pretty neat to tinker with.

- - - -

Naruto sighed forlornly and opened his door. He threw his jacket onto a coat rack- it almost toppled over, but to his relief it didn't; he really didn't feel like bothering with something like that, anyway. There had been too much on his mind for many, many hours. Scratching the back of his head, he sauntered into a small kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. There wasn’t much in it, just a few necessary items such as milk and butter. Naruto never figured he would even be home often enough to cook. Take-out always seemed a more befitting option anyways.

He took a gallon of milk and poured some into a cup, too much to drink in one swallow, but enough to quench his thirst. The cup was placed on a countertop, and he made his way into a cramped living room that consisted of a sofa, an old television set and entertainment system, a few CD’s, an end table with a small lamp, and some stacked books and magazines that resided near the table. With a massive yawn, he collapsed onto the sofa, remote in hand. The television was turned on; not many interesting programs were aired, at least none that Naruto fancied. He settled for the evening news and leaned into the cushions, eyes closed and hands folded on his chest.

"A report of a homicide recently in Seattle was heard- Eyewitnesses have given their description of the alleged murderer, describing him as ‘shady and mysterious’. Some say he was taller and had black hair; however, nothing has been concluded just yet. Further investigation from the Washington police force will be made."

Hearing this, one of Naruto’s eyes cracked open. Remorsefully, he sighed. He had not been in his apartment for five minutes, and already he was picking up a phone and dialing a familiar number. His fingers twirled the cord as he waited for an answer.

"Hello?" someone on the other line picked up.

"Yes," Naruto said in a collected voice, "this is Naruto Uzumaki calling in."

The voice chuckled. "Ah yes, Uzumaki. You’ve seen the news, then, I suspect. We’ll be waiting for you at the station."

Naruto placed the phone on the hook once again. Grunting, he stood and sidled to the door, taking his coat and sliding it over his shoulders. Keys in a front pocket, television screen flashing and milk resting on the counter, he departed, turning the lock behind him.

- - - -

Many phones were ringing in the station when Naruto arrived. A couple heads lifted at his entrance, but not many. He had not expected much reaction at his presence. A woman greeted him as he made his way through the front office. "Hello, deputy Uzumaki." She gave a courteous dip of her head. "Chief Hatake is waiting for you in his office."

Naruto gave a single, curt nod and turned away from the woman. He stepped into a room that was located in a nearby corridor, first door to the right. Inhaling deeply, he too dipped his head respectfully. "Sir?" he questioned, taking a step closer to a desk that centered the room. Behind it was a man who displayed strength- determination flared in his eyes, but his smile was warm and welcoming.

"Uzumaki," he said, clearing his throat. "I’ve been expecting you."

Naruto took a seat, lips curving into a small grin. "So I’ve heard, Sir."

The man gave a smirk and shook his head. "Please, call me Kakashi."

Puzzled, Naruto nodded. "All right…Kakashi." Calling someone of higher ranking by his or her first name felt odd on his tongue- at least the man wasn’t being haughty though. It made him smile. "I assume that I’m here because of the recent headlines, correct?"

Kakashi nodded and gave a brief sigh. "Sadly, yes. We will need to send those with experience, such as you, to investigate. The crime scene is littered with people that need to be removed for proper analysis. That is our first priority." He tapped a pencil against his desk thoughtfully. "Do you have any recommendations for who should be aiding you tonight?"

Naruto stared, awestricken. "Y-you mean I’m leading this investigation, Sir- I mean, Kakashi?" Stumbling over his words was not a way to justify Kakashi’s rendition of the man. Naruto could not keep himself from being startled at the peculiar compliment.

The silver-haired man smiled. "Don’t sound so shocked, Uzumaki. Others know of your talent in these situations as well. Your actions have not been ignored, I assure you."

A feeling of pride swelled within Naruto. "Thank you," he paused to think for a moment, "and of those I recommend? I suggest Haruno and Nara at the moment. They are both skilled and intelligent- they will be of great help."

"All right, then," said Kakashi. "You may go now," he waved a hand in the air, "and do a good job. Find this man and bring him in, Uzumaki. Don’t disappoint me."

Naruto narrowed his eyes with determination. "I won’t. You can count on me."

- - - -

He chewed on his bottom lip and walked through the tangle of rooms and offices. There were many he entered in search for his two co-workers, but none contained either of them. He was becoming agitated at the tenth door he visited. "Can you tell me where Shikamaru Nara is? Or perhaps Sakura Haruno? I need to speak with them both." He was talking to a stocky man who sipped on a cup of coffee, clearly not interested in his words.

He shook his head and shrugged. "Sorry, kid," he answered.

Naruto’s blood nearly boiled. Not an ounce of respect in his body, he thought. "Okay," he said, and left the room, happy to escape that smug grin and those arrogant eyes. Many did not like Ibiki, but this did not affect him in the least. Naruto thought a few times that he actually wanted people to dislike him- it sounded irrational, but he contemplated on it.

Hands in his pocket, he passed several people who did not seem interested in anything he had to say. They brushed him off and continued chatting amongst themselves. He determined, eventually, that no one would give him an answer. That is, until he came into an area reserved for those on break or off-duty, where they could mingle and talk over some coffee and joke about the day of work they had completed. He spotted a pink haired woman there, leaning against a counter with a cup sitting between two palms. She was giggling, cheeks stained a shade of red- Naruto guessed it was her makeup. Sakura wasn’t one to give into flirtatious men, especially older ones who didn’t look good in uniform.

"Sakura!" he beckoned, waving his arm at the woman.

She recognized him immediately and gestured for him to come over. Beside her was another female with long, sultry blond hair that flowed behind her. Her blue eyes seemed almost piercing. There were three men there as well, two of them cutting up from previous minutes when the third man tripped and spilled his drink on his shirt. "Naruto," Sakura smiled sweetly, "come over here!"

The woman beside her wrinkled her nose. "Sakura, why are you going to invite him over?" she sneered.

Sakura merely smiled, however. "Because he’s cool," she said, giving Naruto a wink. The blond stood beside her, slightly uncomfortable. He mustered a smile as she played with his tie that hung loosely around his neck. "So, bad boy," she said in between sips of her coffee, "why aren’t you in uniform? Too lazy to dress properly?"

Naruto pulled away a bit at her touch. "No- I was just called in. I didn’t have time to change entirely."

"Nice excuse," came from the man wiping his shirt; the hanky grasped in his hand did little to nothing to remove the liquid from his clothing. "I wish I was as believable."

Another man beside him snorted. "If you were as believable as you were fat, Chouji, you could wear pajamas to work." He laughed at his own comment, but Chouji did not. He frowned instead.

"Kiba, you really are an ass." He finally gave up on cleaning his shirt and settled for a glass of water instead. Kiba rolled his eyes. "So, Naruto, what brings you in here?"

Naruto grinned. At least he was acting interested, despite the lag in his words. "I came to get Sakura, actually." The female standing next to him beamed happily. Naruto rubbed the back of his head nervously. "You see, I wanted her to come along and examine the crime scene with me. I want to bring Shikamaru too, but I can’t find him anywhere. Have you guys seen him?"

Kiba and Chouji shook their heads simultaneously, but Sakura stroked her chin her chin thoughtfully. "I think I did," she said. "Or at least, I think I might know where he is. Earlier, he took the remainder of the day off, if I remember correctly. So he’s probably at his house right now, unless he went off somewhere." She laughed for a brief moment. "But he’s too lazy to go anywhere when he doesn’t want to. Hell, he can’t even stay at work for a complete shift."

Naruto nodded with a broad smile. "That is true." Instantly, his cheerful smile turned into an intent frown. "But if he is off somewhere, locating him will be a pain. Let’s just hope he’s at home."

"Yeah," Sakura agreed, "let’s give him a call." She took a cell phone from her pocket and flipped it open. "I wonder if I have him in my numbers," she said, half to herself. Her face brightened quickly afterward. "Yes! Okay, I’ve got his number," she declared. "Now be quiet while I call him." Naruto chuckled at this- no one had even been talking when the statement was made. Nevertheless, that was Sakura, commanding and pushy, and one of Naruto’s closest friends.

Moments later, "Hello?" came a lethargic voice, followed up with a large yawn.

"Hello, Shikamaru?"

"Yeah? Sakura? What do you want? I took the day off, you know."

Sakura rolled her eyes, but her voice dripped with sweetness. "Well, um, you see, Naruto was chosen to lead the investigation on that Seattle homicide." She turned her attention to Naruto, who tinkered with a bag of low-fat sugar. "Right, Naruto?"

"Hm? Oh, yes," Naruto answered, clearly distracted.

Sakura grinned. "Yeah, surprising, huh? Anyways, he said he wants to take you and me along with him. Are you up to it, or should we find someone else?"

On the other end, she could hear Shikamaru breath a long sigh. "I guess I’ll come," he finally decided.

"Oh, great!" Sakura exclaimed. "We’ll be waiting for you here, then! See you soon!" She closed her phone with a smile that stretched from cheek to cheek. "So, we wait for him now. Once he is here, we’ll go straight to the crime scene and start examining. If we work diligently enough, we can find this guy in no time!"

Naruto folded his arms. "I thought I was leading," he said in a mock tone. Sakura scoffed sarcastically and flipped her hair. Naruto nodded briskly. "Okay, let’s go outside until he gets here. We’ll start immediately."

Kiba growled and narrowed his eyes. "So what, that’s it? You two are leaving us already?" He closed his eyes, clearly aggravated. "Fine, whatever."

"Come on, Kiba," Sakura cooed, "don’t be like that. It’s too bad you can’t come," Naruto cut her a fierce look, "but you’re not the type for these sorts of things. Sorry." She kissed the brunette on his cheek. He couldn’t hide a faint smile. "Don’t be so sour about this. We’ll see if you can help some other time."

"Yeah, okay," said Kiba. "Good luck you two."

- - - -

Sakura and Naruto sat outside quietly; Naruto coughed awkwardly, silence unnerving him. "So, Sakura," he said, "you found yourself a boyfriend?"

Sakura shrugged. "Nope. You?"

"What do you mean me?" Naruto asked, startled. "Have I found a boyfriend? Of course not!" A trickle of sweat made its way down his hairline.

"Keep your pants on," Sakura mumbled, "I meant, do you have a girlfriend? Like, have you gotten with Hinata? She seems to have her eye out for you." A slick grin played on her lips. "Why did you become so nervous just now anyways? Unless…" Her eyes narrowed, and she ran a finger along Naruto’s jaw line. The blond gulped and pulled away, turning his head and averting her eyes. She giggled.

"I’m not gay!" Naruto shouted, huffing and folding his arms.

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "I never said you were, now did I? See, that kind of behavior sure is suspicious, if you ask me." She chuckled. "But I’m not assuming anything. Only you know what you are- not me, not Hinata. Only the guy or girl you decide to fuck." The last words caught Naruto off guard. Sakura continued, "But then again, you could turn out to be bi. What a strange world we live in. What a strange world, indeed."

Face red, Naruto frowned. "I’m not gay!" he repeated, "and I’m not bi either. I’m completely, one-hundred percent straight!"

"Then kiss me."

Naruto’s jaw dropped, and he stared blankly at the woman, flabbergasted. "W-what?’ he stammered. "You want me to-"

"Hey, kiddies. You ready to go?" The voice was familiar- Shikamaru, Naruto discovered, had walked up seconds before. To his relief, he had not heard his and Sakura’s conversation. Instead, the brunette cocked his head to the side and cracked a few knuckles. "Or are we going to stand here and talk all day? It’s your decision; I’m just here because you asked me."

Naruto shook his head and stood. Sakura soon did the same. "No, we’re leaving," the blond said. He walked toward a sleek, black car that had just recently been paid off entirely. Naruto thought it took too long for that moment to arrive, but at least he had a nice car. "We can take my car," he declared. Sakura and Shikamaru nodded. "Sakura, you get up front, because that’s the polite thing to do. Right, Shikamaru?" He cast the man an expectant glance.

"I guess so," Shikamaru shrugged. "Whatever."

Sakura smiled and slid in the passenger seat, while Shikamaru took the back behind her. Naruto too got into the car and shut the door. "I hope I have the right directions," he whispered, taking a small slip of paper from his pocket. "I’ve never been to these streets before." He started the engine and pulled onto the road. "Hey Sakura, you ever been to this location before?"

Sakura thought for a moment. "I’ve been around Seattle, but not much. I have heard that it has its good parts and not so good parts to it, as any major city does. I guess that’s why we’re doing this, anyways." Looking out her window, she noticed the lights of her own city growing smaller. "I think it’ll only take a short while to get there though. The land between these two cities looks mostly empty." Naruto had already determined this. There were few buildings lining the streets, and the further away he drove the rockier and rugged these roads became.

"This place is a bit eerie," Naruto speculated, shuddering a bit.

Shikamaru nodded slowly. "I agree. I’m surprised this isn’t where the murder was committed. Seems like the ideal location, anyways."

"Don’t even say things like that," Sakura hissed. "You’re creeping me out."

Naruto laughed and stole a glance at the pink-haired female. "Yeah, Sakura, who knows, we might be the next ones to-"

Suddenly, there was a flash of bright lights, blinding Naruto. The man gasped and fought to keep control of his vehicle as another crashed into it, but it soon swerved off the road and was sent hurdling into the nearest obstacle: a frail, wooden shack that was on the roadside. A crash, a scream, and his vision went blurry. The last thing he saw was red- blood trickling into his eyes, and his head lolled to the side as he lost consciousness.

- - - -

"Mmm…"

It hurt when he opened his eyes.When he tried to move, the pain was far worse. A surge of pain seared in his side, and he cried out in agony, grasping the mangled flesh. His hands overflowed with a ghastly red liquid. He panted and struggled to keep himself calm- breathing like this hurt. He took deep, steady breaths before deciding what to do. I have to stop this bleeding. Peering down at his side, he noticed the tear in his shirt where it exposed his ripped skin, deep red spreading across his ribs. He grimaced at the sight.

Biting his upper lip, he tore the shirt from his body and wrapped it tightly around him, around the wound. The flow stopped, but blood continued to seep through the article of clothing. He moaned as he turned to lay on his back, a ripple of pain washing over him. The car was upside down, he noticed, and he unbuckled his seatbelt and brushed a few shards of glass off him. When he remembered the others in his car, he panicked. "Sakura! Shikamaru!" Heart pounding, his eyes fled to the passenger seat where Sakura’s limp form hung. He took the seatbelt from her, ignoring his lesion and focusing on his friend. "Sakura, wake up!" He shook her still body. "Sakura! Sakura!"

Then, Sakura began coughing, and she wheezed, gasping for breath. Her eyes flew open, and Naruto exhaled deeply. "Oh, Sakura. I thought you were gone."

"No," Sakura grunted and pushed tufts of hair from her eyes, "but what about Shikamaru?"

Naruto’s eyes widened. "Shika…maru?" And when he looked behind him in the back seat, he turned his head away quickly. "Sakura," he said, "Don’t look behind you. Whatever you do, don’t look behind you."

Ignoring his order, Sakura peered at the sight behind her. "Oh god," she whispered, covering her mouth. Her eyes welled with tears, and she sobbed. "I’m getting out of the car," she announced, opening the car door and staggering out. However, Naruto was not able to do the same. As he reached for his door handle, a scream tore from his lips. He could hear Sakura gasp, and she raced to his aid, opening his door and pulling him out carefully. He gritted his teeth together and clenched his eyes shut, murmuring a few curses under his breath. Once on his feet, he clutched at his wound.

"Sakura, we need to get out of here and to a hospital." He breathed heavily. "I don’t know how long I can last with only a shirt stopping this bleeding."

Sakura nodded. "All right." She draped Naruto’s arm around her neck, and the man leaned against her for support. With a grunt, he began walking, steps gradually increasing until he was moving with a fast limp. "Are you all right?" Sakura questioned, eyes filled with worry.

The blond nodded and forced a smile on his lips. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just keep moving. Don’t pay attention to anything I do or say. Just keep moving."

Hesitantly, Sakura obeyed. They were wordless for a while as they exited the ruin of a building Naruto’s car had wrecked into. "Naruto, what crashed into us?" Sakura inquired curiously, as she thought on this. "All I remember is a bright flash, a loud noise, and then we were flying into that old building." She pointed behind her back.

Naruto shrugged after pondering for a while. "Maybe it was a deer," he suggested.

"But that wouldn’t explain the lights," Sakura pressed.

Becoming slightly annoyed, Naruto bared his teeth. "Look, maybe I hit a guy! But I’m not going back there to find out, okay? Shikamaru is dead, Sakura! It’s that person’s fault, and he deserves to die for it. An eye for an eye, right?" He choked on a sob that caught in his throat. "Besides, I’m not the one to blame. I was driving just fine until that lunatic raced into me."

Sakura frowned. "So it was a person," she said, "and you knew it all along."

"Maybe I did," Naruto closed his eyes. "Maybe I did." Then they were silent.

It was only a mere ten minutes until Naruto’s side began aching tremendously- e felt as if his insides were being ripped from him. "Sakura, I need to stop for a minute." He collapsed onto the ground, chest rising and falling steadily. He wasn’t sure about how much more of this he could put up with. How were they to make their way back at this rate? "You need to go on without me," he said, staring at a small patch of decaying grass. "I’ll never make it back. I’ll only slow you down."

Sakura gaped at him. She shook her head furiously. "No! I will not leave you here- not like this. You’re coming back, whether you like it or not! Okay?" Naruto didn’t give her an answer. "Okay?!"

Naruto sighed. "Okay."

They rested there for another few minutes. Naruto felt his body numbing, and he groaned as he rolled onto his opposite side. "You know what, Sakura?" he said, smiling. Sakura lifted her head from her knees and raised an eyebrow. "I really think I am homosexual," he continued, playing with a nearby twig. "I’ve always been more attracted to guys than women- at first I thought I was bi, and I tried to get really close to you to see if I was right, but as time went on I realized that I only thought of you as a friend, not a lover."

Sakura said nothing and rested her chin on her knees once again.

"And you know that guy that walked into the station a couple of weeks ago?" Naruto grinned in spite of himself. "I truly thought he was absolutely gorgeous. You know, the one with dark eyes and messy, black hair? He really was a sight for sore eyes."

"Yes, I know the one," Sakura said. "He was the man who walked in, paced around for a moment, and walked out. Everyone was very confused by what he did, but we all forgot about that." She eyed Naruto. "Except for you. You have the hots for people like him, huh?"

"I guess so," Naruto answered. The stars were dim that night, moon shrouded by layers of clouds. He could hear noises surrounding him, those coming from animals he couldn’t quite identify. He didn’t care to either- it was one of the last things on his mind. The ground beneath him was cold and hard, certainly not comfortable. A hand touched at the sticky cloth covering his side. The blood had dried in some places, in others, it was still damp with the substance, and Naruto felt like vomiting upon touching the area. He had expected to bring a criminal to justice, and here he was, lying on his side awaiting the moment when he would be getting a massive amount of stitches at the nearest hospital.

A crunching sounded, a twig snapped, and Naruto lifted his head. His heart sped and he scrambled to his feet, despite the pain or any other factor. He rushed to Sakura and held her tight against his body, blood leaking onto her own clothing and skin as he shielded her. "W-who are you?" he stammered, taking a step back. Another step was made, but not by him- by another, a figure that’s face was concealed by a hood. "What do you want?"

"I want to kill you," the person ground out, chuckling ominously and approaching the man and woman. It was the voice of a man, Naruto noted. Sakura buried her face in the blonde’s shirt, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"You…" Naruto trailed off. "You can kill me if you want." He released Sakura and raised his arms above his head. "I’m hurting anyways. This injury will kill me if you don’t. Just let Sakura go. You can take my life without a fight, but if you take hers, I will put up a struggle."

The hooded form said nothing for a while; finally, he nodded. Naruto turned to Sakura, whose eyes were wide with fear. "Run, Sakura," he whispered. "Don’t come back for me. Just run away and don’t look back. Don’t get help, either. Just go."

Backing away slowly, Sakura shook her head, face red and moist. She turned around and began running, keeping her head to the front and not stealing a glance at Naruto. The man had given her seldom advice in the span of their relationship, but anything he had told her was always right. She would not disobey him.

Naruto hung his head. "Go on," he said. "Kill me already."

The man lowered his hood. "What a rush you’re in," he smiled, lips twisted into a wicked smirk. Naruto looked up, at his face, into his eyes, and he felt his blood run cold. The eyes, he saw, were dark and cloudy, sharp with many secrets hiding behind them. Hair was fixed in a messy array, scattered before the eyes that struck fear into his heart.

"You’re the one," he breathed, "that came into our station…"

"My, aren’t we the smart one?" the man teased, walking closer to the other. "My name is Sasuke Uchiha, and if you haven’t guessed, I am the one who killed that guy. You know, the one that made headline news? I was quite proud of myself, actually." He smiled and ran a hand through Naruto’s hair, golden strands tainted with blood, sweat, and dirt. "You are cute," Sasuke observed. "Too bad I have to kill you. What is your name?"

Naruto swallowed a gulp, flinching as the hand stroked his hair. "N-Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki. That is my name."

Sasuke nodded slowly. "Okay, then. Naruto Uzumaki…" He held his grin and patted Naruto on his head, turning around and pacing the area nonchalantly. "Did you know that every fifteen seconds someone dies?" he stated. "Statistics show this- it's a proven fact."

He turned his head, eyes gleaming dangerously. "This next fifteen seconds it’ll be you, Naruto."

expressthetruth @ 2008-01-20T20:50:00

2008-01-21T01:57:49Z

Title: Little Flower
Rating: G
Pairing: Mainly SasuSaku
Notes: Because I'm tired of hating Sakura, after all these years. Maybe it was my rabid fangirl stage that made me dislike her. -shrug- But I guess she deserves a drabble after all the bashing I put her through. ;D

Little Flower, they called her. Cherry Blossom. They always told her of her beauty, with her words and her long, silky hair. She didn’t feel beautiful though. He made her feel like the opposite.

“Sakura, you’re annoying.”

She wouldn’t cry, despite the words he had said. They stung like a bite, and maybe she had been bitten. It was always there, always itching, hurting, and she’d scratch and scratch with no prevail. And one day, she stopped scratching altogether.

“If you leave, I’ll scream,” she told him. But her hair was not long and silky like it had been before. She was far from beautiful, far from being a Little Flower like her mother had said. Her words were there, but just barely; she choked on them, and his words, they hurt.

“And after all this time,” he said, “…thank you.”

She was not a Little Flower. Everyone knew this. She was not dainty and collected like the woman she wanted to be, the woman that would impress him and make him love her.

She would never be the Little Flower she had hoped to be in her younger years. No longer a Cherry Blossom, no justice to the name her mother gave her. But in little steps, little ways, she could feel his words, and maybe, she could feel him.

She wished that he thought she was a Little Flower, too.

expressthetruth @ 2008-01-19T17:11:00

2008-01-19T22:18:10Z

Title: Against
Rating: G
Summary: And sometimes, at night, Near liked it when it rained.
Pairing: Some Mello/Near
Notes: For rinnakins, because she is awesome and special and I love her to death. (Thank you so much for the drabble, Rinna. ilu <3) This is my first time writing Mello or Near, so aah, I know: OOC. D:

Sometimes, at night, Near liked it when it rained.

Night was always the best time. Maybe because that was when he could feel it best, or maybe just because there was nothing there besides himself and the silence, and the tap-tapping against his window pane. He’d sit from time to time and watch- Watch and think. He’d think that maybe, just maybe he could be the rain.

For just one second.

Then maybe he would be different. (Different?)

He looked and thought. Night was always the best time, and maybe that was so because he couldn’t see the rain. Maybe he didn’t want to see it.

“Get away from that window,” he heard Mello say to him. His eyes fell away from the rain.

“Why?”

Mello folded his arms and scowled. “Why not?” he retorted.

“Don’t answer my question with a question,” he said, and turned his attention outside once more.

Mello narrowed his eyes. “You could get sick,” he spat. “And besides, it’s too late for you to be up staring outside like you have nothing better to do.”

Maybe Night wasn’t the best time, after all.

Near stepped away from the window.

But he always liked the rain.