Fic: Graduation (Kakashi/Sasuke) Part 1/2
Title: Graduation Part 1/2
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Kakashi/Sasuke
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: Way too long (11,203)
Summary(ish?): An empty classroom, his last day in high school...what could possibly go wrong?
Because every writer eventually has the urge to go all...high school AU. This was mine. Don't judge.
A pair of disinterested eyes swept through the sea of navy and black seated before them. Traveling beyond the familiar expressions of his peers, they drifted further to delve into the myriad of cheerful parents lining the stands. As precious seconds ticked by, the leisurely scanning evolved into frenzied zigzagging. Now was the only chance to spot him, and time was running out. Preoccupied with tracking one individual in a crowd of a thousand, the teen’s stoicism slowly melted away to reveal unease. Especially when he found what he’d been looking for.
Simultaneously, a brutal shove from behind sent him staggering forward. The only thing preventing a likely fall was the sheer willpower demanding him to turn around and give the provoker a piece of his mind. Irritation, already pent up for separate reasons, exploded as he did a 180, scathing insult on the tip of his tongue…but Naruto beat him to it.
“Sasuke, you’re holding up the line! Move already!”
Realization doused him like a bucket of water. He was suddenly all too aware of the thousand or more sets of eyes glued to him from below stage, Naruto’s shouts-and accompanying echoes-only encouraging it. To make matters worse, the small groups of people on stage were motioning him forward as well. Their small hand gestures and mouthed words were all but discreet. Now he knew how Chouji felt when he forgot the lines to the Christmas play in fourth grade…
He thanked his upbringing for his swift recovery, advancing forward with a confident stride and purposefully tuning out the whispers coming from below. They no longer mattered. Embarrassment was for those expecting to see their classmates further down the road, which Sasuke did not. The conclusion of his twelve-year stay with these people was a blessing, and he was pleased to say he would be leaving them and this miserably shoddy town behind.
At last he reached the congregation of staff and other high-ranking officials, satisfied by now that he had fully recovered from his initial blunder. When receiving his diploma, he made sure to keep an arm’s length between himself and the principal. If her glazed expression and overtly cheesy smile were any indication, someone had indulged in a few before the proceedings, not to mention her protruding chest could put an eye out.
Quick work was made of the mandatory handshakes escorting him down wobbly steps, his smug expression hardly focusing on just whom he exchanged the gestures with. It wasn’t until the end of the line that he felt it…a certain prickling of eyes at his back, like fine needles brushing the surface of his skin. A sensation strong enough to ruffle the fine hairs at his nape and interesting enough to compel a slight turn of the head. He must’ve imagined it. Naruto’s ridiculous saunter across the stage held the spotlight now. Whether it was with disapproval, amusement, or catcalls, everyone’s attention now honed in on the blonde.
Everyone’s…except...but really, when was the man not reading that thing?
A sudden bruising grip on his knuckles startled his own attention back where it belonged as the final handshake was exchanged. Sasuke expected no less from his father, head of law enforcement, hardly bothering to return the stoic look of acknowledgement. Coming face-to-face with indignant black eyes told him he’d witnessed everything and was none too pleased at his son’s display. When large fingers clenched Sasuke’s smaller ones, forcing the bones of his knuckles to grind together, he made it evident they would discuss the matter further at home.
That was always something to look forward to.
Making his departure from the stairs, he chanced a second look, honing in on the row of bleachers third from the top. Sure enough, his mother was there, equally as enthusiastic as her neighbors and taking pictures as often as the camera would allow. But she wasn’t what Sasuke was staring at. Instead his empty gaze settled on the vacant space beside her, reserved for her purse alone. Typical and not surprising at all. He knew this was how it would be. He knew and yet there was still the sinking feeling of disappointment. To keep his growing shame private, he was quick to avert his eyes and look away from any further photographs.
Once seated, he did nothing to prevent the hunching of his shoulders, sinking down in the chair more than was necessary so he could observe the empty space of floor beneath the seat in front of him. Sasuke may have been above embarrassment, but he was not above moping. Naruto plopped down shortly after, respecting the silence policy for a grand total of five seconds.
“Did you see Itachi?”
Blunt and wholly unnecessary. Two and a half years of psychology classes and the idiot still had bad people skills. Not even Sasuke knew why he felt compelled to answer.
“He’s not here.”
“Man, that sucks,” the blonde muttered before retracting himself from the Uchiha’s personal space to fiddle with his gown until something audible fell out. Retrieving the package, he held it in front of his friend’s face, “Want some gum?”
Sasuke pulled his eyes from the floor just long enough to make a face in the other’s direction. “How did you get that in here? I thought they searched everyone before we came in.”
“Well, not everywhere.”
That statement alone was enough incentive to decline Naruto’s offer.
***
Unfortunately not even the Uchiha’s moping could distract him long enough to outlast Lee’s novel of a closing speech, nor could it save him from Ino’s constant badgering to sign her yearbook as they exited in organized pairs. At last, long-awaited freedom came when graduates were dismissed to reunite with their parents. Sasuke regarded the hugging clusters with a not-so-friendly look, feeling much better once he reentered the building, effectively putting them out of view.
The now-empty hall leading back to the gymnasium granted his ears with a much-needed reprieve of the day’s constant shouting and yelling. Sasuke had to admit it was rather odd. Strolling the layout of the school without a soul in sight was something he’d never experienced before. Much too often he’d been faced with the complex task of navigating this congested maze, dodging, squeezing, and sometimes colliding with students and teachers alike. The passage had seemed narrow before, and only now did he realize just how wide it was.
For the first time he stopped to inspect their school’s prized mural. The expanse of wall had once been the general “hang-out” spot for all the jocks between classes, so he never really paid much attention.
It stood tall and predatory, all four paws dug deeply into the wall to give the illusion the large cat was climbing. Looming close to the ceiling, the panther’s turned head revealed a startlingly lifelike profile of yellow eyes and bared fangs. Even the haughty Uchiha had to admit Sai gave the school more than it deserved with this. To say their recent years’ football teams lived up to this powerful mascot would be quite the overstatement. He would never voice that though, not with Kiba’s unstable testosterone levels nearby at least.
Upon reaching the gym, Sasuke hesitated. Barely audible muffled voices could be heard from the large cracks under the row of doors. Recognizing the unmistakable boom of his father’s voice suddenly had him rethinking his intention of going in there. He paused for a moment to see if the conversation had ended, and was proved wrong shortly after. The man’s tone had lowered significantly, but was still livid. It was unusual to hear him seethe in such a manner, especially in a public place, therefore Sasuke was struck with a sudden intense curiosity to find out just what was being discussed.
Cautiously, he pressed his ear against the wood, careful not to make a sound. The sudden thought of his father speaking about his lack of proficiency on stage resulted in a pang of anxiety. If his actions had upset the man that much Sasuke knew he was surely in for it this summer. Fugaku Uchiha was an extremely temperamental man, and once he became disappointed there was slim chance of getting back in his good graces. Yet another reason why Sasuke looked forward to college: moving out of that house.
It took only a moment or two to prove his youngest son was the furthest thing from Fugaku’s mind.
“…a disgrace to the entire family. The way he refuses to contact us out of spite! He knew full well what was to be expected from him at an early age, and to not uphold that responsibility so that he can indulge in these rebellious tendencies is inexcusable. Not presenting himself here today is the first intelligent thing he’s done in a long time.”
The sinking feeling was back, stronger than ever. Whatever his mother said in reply went unheard as he pulled from the door faster than he meant to. Just hearing that alone was enough to make him regret coming back inside. He made to run a hand through his hair, temporarily forgetting the cap still resting on top. Clutching it with a white-knuckled grip, he roughly hurled it at the wall in a fit of anger. The gown was next, landing in a rumpled heap with a broken zipper.
Sasuke couldn’t help but stare scornfully at the mass of black at his feet. Itachi. Even when he wasn’t even fucking present everything became about him! Today was supposed to be his day, his moment to be the pride of the family. But the lack of one insignificant person’s presence was enough to ruin it all. And the pathetic thing was…it was just as much his own fault.
He’d entertained thoughts of Itachi coming to his graduation for weeks. Many nights in a row he’d spent listening to that one voicemail. The one that said “I promise I’ll be there” and “I’m sorry, Sasuke” in that uncaring and distant voice his older brother always had. For moments at a time he would stare at the phone and wonder what would have happened if he’d picked up when that unfamiliar number called. Maybe then…
Sasuke laughed aloud at his own pathetic thoughts. Subconsciously he ran his hand through messy black hair again, shaking his head immediately after to have the strands fall back in the same place. One last look was allowed at the discarded fabric below; his father’s muffled words were becoming less muffled by the second. It was grating and he could stand there no longer.
So he walked. And walked. And walked. By the time he reached the barren halls of the math wing, any negative thoughts had been successfully quarantined and shoved away. That frown, however, was persistent.
Unlike the gym, the halls here were as narrow as he remembered. Partly responsible were the large clunky lockers lining the walls like shoddy metal safes. It was interesting to note most of the girly graffiti hearts had been buffed off, yet Naruto’s indented swirls remained. As he continued on, the sharp smell of something once edible signaled that Chouji certainly had not cleaned his locker out all the way, and that Shikamaru hadn’t bothered at all if the papers sticking out were any indication.
He continued his aimless exploration until the slight patch of sunlight reflecting off the tiled floor directed his focus to the two doors just ahead. A side exit. Suddenly the thought of being outside became much more appealing. If he was lucky, he could catch Naruto before he left and hitch a ride. Sure, it wasn’t his number one choice of spending the afternoon, but it definitely beat returning home with his tyrant of a father.
Sasuke’s pace noticeably hastened now that he actually had a destination. Wandering was pointless, so he usually tended to avoid it. The sense of control eluding him for so long was at last falling back into place, restoring mental equilibrium and inadvertently converting his frown to that of something less. It wasn’t too late to fix things. Itachi be damned. Today was about him and he could do anything he wanted.
Anything…
He froze, fist clutching the door handle. Through the window it was evident most graduates were preparing to head out. All hugging and posing for photos had been replaced with a greater urgency to dine in fancy restaurants, a method of further showing off the success they felt. Even from his distance Sasuke could clearly distinguish the blonde from the mob, a shorter and more vivacious doppelganger to his father, who walked alongside him through the vast parking lot.
The pause extended as he watched the duo from afar. He was still on the fence with whether he should go or stay, his brain nearly split in two as he weighed the pros and cons.
Naruto…Naruto was social, which meant being around additional people. Naruto was a glutton, which meant eating in a restaurant was fated, and the follow-up with a sugary dessert: inevitable. And lastly…Naruto was sentimental, which meant four or more hours of upcoming wistful reminiscing, all likely centered on Sakura, and all better suited for a daytime soap opera.
Apparently the cons outweighed the pros.
It didn’t take much further convincing for him to pull away from the door. With a hefty sigh, he steeled himself for a return trip to the gym. The people: he could endure, the sugar-infested food: he could tolerate, but there was absolutely no way he could sit and relive those four years spent in this building. Graduation was about moving on, not lingering on the doorstep of adolescence. The sooner he forgot about this place, and the people encountered in it, the better.
Maybe…
Unfortunately this motivational thesis fell flat the second he laid eyes upon a certain classroom, or more specifically the mere inch of empty space between the door and its frame. An unlocked classroom. Further investigation certified all other doors were firmly shut, the rooms beyond opaque with darkness. But not this one.
Curiosity grew the closer he came. It wasn’t like the nervous urge driving him to eavesdrop on his father. It was intrigue. If the classroom was indeed occupied, this would be his first chance for entertainment of the day. The thought alone send a thrill up his spine, though he’d never admit it.
Just outside the door, he stopped. Finally something to chase the storm that was Itachi from his mind, something that might-just might-have the ability to lighten his mood.
Many times he’d passed through this door, long after receiving his credit for the class. It was like some sort of strange force had the ability to pull him in its direction every time he turned down this hallway. Initially he resisted it, of course. What type of student went to visit his teacher when…well…when he wasn’t their teacher anymore?
That question floated, unanswered, to the back of his mind. Each time his feet stepped over that threshold, it got pushed further and further away, until Sasuke no longer questioned himself. He wanted to be there, and the other never minded. So what was there left to ask?
Some days they would sit and talk between periods. Just quick unimportant conversations exchanged in the thirty-or-so seconds Sasuke had to spare. Other days they would lounge for the forty minutes of Sasuke’s lunch period, relishing in more in-depth exchanges. It wasn’t every day, more like a few times a week. But it made school, this last year in particular, much more bearable.
Which was why Sasuke stood here now. This would be his last chance. He wasn’t sociable by nature, and assuming he’d find a similar individual in college would be foolish. So just for today-in this moment-he could still be a student here. One last talk…he honestly didn’t care whether it was about the news, television, or even theories of how Kiba’s mother squeezed herself into that tiny dress.
That last thought evoked a smile, albeit a tiny one.
“Graduating’s got even you in a good mood, I see.”
In hindsight he should have been prepared for that. However, that didn’t stop Sasuke from quickly dropping the upturned ends of his mouth and turning with hardly-stifled surprise. He was met with his old trigonometry teacher’s towering form, two lazy-lidded eyes, and faced with a much-too comfortable, much-too relaxed grin, looming over him.
Rather than acknowledging the sudden cramped feeling, the Uchiha managed a rather refined mask of boredom and kept his chin raised, answering the man’s expression with one of his own. “Your classroom was open.”
“Ah, so it was. Though that hardly seems a suitable reason for you to smile at my door, hmm?” gray eyes glimmered in amusement at the thought, observing the Uchiha’s top lip curl upward with annoyance. “Of course it’s none of my business. Here, you left this in the gym.”
Sasuke released his scowl just long enough to observe the object in the man’s offering hand. His diploma. He must have left it under his chair when he got up to leave. To be honest, he hadn’t even realized it was missing amongst all the other thoughts plaguing his mind. Reaching out to take it, Sasuke dodged voicing gratitude and did his best not to notice the way the leather-encased document remained warm with the memory of long tapered fingers.
“Students don’t usually choose to roam school halls over going out to celebrate.”
It was hard not to scoff at the man’s “teacher tone”. His laid-back personality and lack of professionalism would make most mistake him for a student if it weren’t for his height and clothing. Even in moments like these, where his voice was stern, it was hard to take him seriously.
“Graduation was enough celebration in itself,” Sasuke remarked dryly. He drifted off to eye the patches of flaking paint on the wall, wishing for the silence to urge the man off the subject.
“Yes you looked positively tickled when you almost ate the stage.”
Heat crept up his neck at the memory, but Sasuke ignored it. His tongue curled with the desire to counterattack, but his mind had gone uncharacteristically blank. Looking over to see the man still smirking confidently down at him, however, had the heat creeping up his face before he knew it. It was like sitting in front of a camera. Just because you weren’t supposed to move, you wanted to squirm. And Sasuke was squirming.
Always this happened, there was absolutely no control over it. It was awkward, it was uncomfortable, and Sasuke didn’t like it. He never liked it. Not even the first time it happened two years ago when Kakashi informed Sasuke that his sixes looked like little Bs. The light teasing, that’s what got to him the most. But only when it came from him.
Embarrassment had bowled over pride and was likely to make three touchdowns before it was apprehended.
“If it helps any, I did fall at my graduation. Fell down six steps and chipped my tooth on the tile,” Kakashi pointed to an incisor as if to prove it, “You can’t notice it so much anymore. It was my own fault, really. I had always been too lazy to tie my shoes.”
The corner of Sasuke’s mouth twitched, the flush long gone. Vivid images flashed in his mind while listening to the humorous anecdote, successfully relieving whatever tension he’d held. A glance down informed him that Kakashi made sure to keep his laces in check nowadays. “Idiot,” he muttered.
Kakashi beamed at him, obviously not feeling uneasy in the least about sharing a moment like that. “It builds my character.”
Sasuke eyed the man as he stepped past him toward the classroom, backing slightly into the hall.
After pushing the door open, Kakashi faltered after a few steps before turning to face his former student. “Well you’re already here, and you’ve made it clear you don’t plan on doing anything today. Care to help out a teacher in need?”
Before Sasuke could question just what Kakashi meant by that, the man gestured to a large stack of papers sitting on the cluttered desk. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of grading things, but he stepped forward nonetheless. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Oh, and Sasuke? Close the door…I’m actually not supposed to be here either, but I have to get through these papers before school ends. I don’t need Tsunade to find me in here and chew me out for doing my job.”
Sasuke did as he was asked, though he recalled the buxom principal rushing out just as quickly as the graduates. Doubling back, he approached the desk again, observing the complete lack of organization. Amongst the high stacks begging to be graded were scattered pens, balled up pieces of paper, absentee notes, a hall pass, and a mug…with a Chihuahua on it.
“Looks like you’ve tidied up a bit.”
“Hm? Really?”
“No.”
***
Thirty minutes later had Sasuke not even a quarter of the way through his stack. The current test he was glancing over, dated all the way back from March, was littered with red marks. Slashing through wrong answers, circling things that didn’t make sense, calculating scores. His fingers were cramping around the pen and his spine ached with the way he sat hunched on the windowsill.
He glanced over at Kakashi to see how he was faring. Neither had spoken much since they started, the task turning out to be more work than either anticipated. The man was hunched in a similar way over his desk, elbows resting atop the polished wood-well Sasuke assumed there was polished wood beneath the clutter-and head resting in the palm of one hand. The man’s lids were drooping lower and lower, his own pen barely lifting from the paper as it scaled down the page.
Sasuke breathed a loud sigh, arching his back before reclining. The fingers of his right hand twitched as they were finally allowed to release their hold. “Either your students have become increasingly moronic or your ability to teach is failing, because I haven’t come up with anything higher than a C.”
Kakashi replied with a low laugh, leaning back in his chair, raising his arms overhead as his back arched with an audible pop. He slumped back down looking boneless and relaxed, in other words like himself. “Well it can’t be all my fault. After all you turned out okay.”
Sasuke snorted and snatched up the pen again, though his fingers ached in protest. Quickly he began slashing through another series of incorrects. “Only because I read the book.”
“But not because I made you stay after school?”
His hand froze in the middle of drawing an eight.
“…That too.”
So maybe he still had problems admitting it. Yes, Kakashi had made him stay after school. Yes, Kakashi had taken notice when his grades started to drop. Yes, Kakashi watched him crumble to pieces the day after Itachi left. But no, Kakashi wouldn’t let him forget about it.
The next three graded tests produced an A, B+, and another A. Sasuke really didn’t feel the need to inform the man of this, though. Surely the sensation of having his foot in his mouth was enough.
Silence stretched on again for another fifteen minutes. This time it was Kakashi who broke it.
“I appreciate the help and all, but shouldn’t you head home? I’m sure your family is looking for you.”
Dark eyes tilted up from the paper in his lap as Sasuke fixed the man with a skeptical look. It was obvious his parents had been long-gone, and he knew Kakashi knew that. As they locked gazes Sasuke began to mull over the words, searching for some hidden meaning. “Is that your way of asking me to leave without being an ass?”
Kakashi hadn’t been grading for several minutes, opting instead to recline lazily in his office chair, the foot propped on his desk subtly rolling him back and forth. “Not really, I just assumed most people like to spend time with their parents on occasions like these. Wouldn’t want to be holding you up.”
Sasuke’s eyes narrowed slightly as they honed in on the pen cap encased in the other’s mouth. He watched with vague interest as the blunt tip moved back and forth, obviously being nudged at the other end by Kakashi’s tongue. Only when it stopped did he look the other in the eye again, realizing the man was waiting for a response.
Shrugging slightly, he went back to grading, aware of the sudden urge to taste the plastic clutched in his hand. Setting the object aside, he sighed in annoyance at his inability to focus. “You’re not holding me up. My father’s not in the best mood today. If I had went home with them I’d just be wiling away hours in my room, anyway.”
Taking the cap from his mouth, Kakashi brought his foot down and rolled back up to the desk. Rather than putting it back on the pen, he dropped it into the empty mug with a light ting, (Sasuke pondered saying “this is why you can never find anything!” but thought better of it.) before resuming his previous position.
“You don’t know for sure,” Kakashi drawled, “What if they meant to surprise you and take you somewhere? Your opportunity to go ice-skating could be ruined because of me.”
Sasuke gave an incredulous laugh, all thoughts of working cast aside. “Nobody goes ice-skating after graduation.”
At this, Kakashi gave a crooked smile.
“…No you didn’t.”
“I wasn’t allowed to go with my friends, afterwards. My mother dragged me there. She said ‘maybe if you learn to walk on ice, stairs won’t be such a challenge’,” he laughed loudly at Sasuke’s suppressed smile, “She hadn’t counted on me being able to do neither.”
Sasuke couldn’t help but snicker. Yes Kakashi poked fun at him every chance he got, but he balanced it out with how often he made fun of himself. And in turn that made it almost okay. “Good thing you don’t need a lot of motor skills to sit behind a desk.”
As if on cue the man had leaned just a little too far back in his chair, the wheels sliding from the floor to midair in one quick swipe. Amazingly enough, a long arm launched up just in time, fingers gripping the edge of the desk tightly and heaving the accompanying body and chair back up before they could crash to the ground. Slightly out of breath, Kakashi’s droopy gray eyes appeared wide-awake now. His silver hair, which had whipped forward in the violent jerk, hung clumsily in his face.
“Looks like my reflexes are on point though,” he breathed loudly, “Yours too, Sasuke.”
Sasuke hummed disparagingly, releasing his hold on the man’s wrist and starting back toward the window, all the while trying to slow the hammering in his ribcage. It was only a few feet away; it wasn’t as if he’d leapt at the desk from across the room.
“You left your pen,” Kakashi stated, still sounding a little dazed.
Frowning, because he was feeling a little dazed himself, Sasuke backpedaled to where the man sat. Reaching out, he grasped the offered utensil. It was impossible for their hands not to touch with the way Kakashi’s fingers curled around the small thing like spider legs. Briefly he wondered if the man was putting as much thought into the contact as he was, but then he stopped the train of thought upon realizing how ridiculous it sounded.
Pulling away, Sasuke fought hard to shake off the foreign sensation of bony knuckles. Something didn’t feel right about the way they seemed to linger against his fingers long after he’d drawn back. It was as if an imprint had been stored within his DNA. The slightly rough texture, the underlying firmness where bone raised against skin, and the warmth…
Sasuke wondered if Kakashi’s palms would feel warmer.
That thought caused him to visibly jolt, body flinching as he took a step back from the desk. Kakashi was staring at him intently, reading him, and Sasuke was suddenly desperate to become illegible. Mumbling a word of thanks, he diverted his eyes and made his way back to the windowsill. Still on the ledge and glinting in the sunlight sat his pen, untouched.
Part 2
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Kakashi/Sasuke
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: Way too long (11,203)
Summary(ish?): An empty classroom, his last day in high school...what could possibly go wrong?
Because every writer eventually has the urge to go all...high school AU. This was mine. Don't judge.
A pair of disinterested eyes swept through the sea of navy and black seated before them. Traveling beyond the familiar expressions of his peers, they drifted further to delve into the myriad of cheerful parents lining the stands. As precious seconds ticked by, the leisurely scanning evolved into frenzied zigzagging. Now was the only chance to spot him, and time was running out. Preoccupied with tracking one individual in a crowd of a thousand, the teen’s stoicism slowly melted away to reveal unease. Especially when he found what he’d been looking for.
Simultaneously, a brutal shove from behind sent him staggering forward. The only thing preventing a likely fall was the sheer willpower demanding him to turn around and give the provoker a piece of his mind. Irritation, already pent up for separate reasons, exploded as he did a 180, scathing insult on the tip of his tongue…but Naruto beat him to it.
“Sasuke, you’re holding up the line! Move already!”
Realization doused him like a bucket of water. He was suddenly all too aware of the thousand or more sets of eyes glued to him from below stage, Naruto’s shouts-and accompanying echoes-only encouraging it. To make matters worse, the small groups of people on stage were motioning him forward as well. Their small hand gestures and mouthed words were all but discreet. Now he knew how Chouji felt when he forgot the lines to the Christmas play in fourth grade…
He thanked his upbringing for his swift recovery, advancing forward with a confident stride and purposefully tuning out the whispers coming from below. They no longer mattered. Embarrassment was for those expecting to see their classmates further down the road, which Sasuke did not. The conclusion of his twelve-year stay with these people was a blessing, and he was pleased to say he would be leaving them and this miserably shoddy town behind.
At last he reached the congregation of staff and other high-ranking officials, satisfied by now that he had fully recovered from his initial blunder. When receiving his diploma, he made sure to keep an arm’s length between himself and the principal. If her glazed expression and overtly cheesy smile were any indication, someone had indulged in a few before the proceedings, not to mention her protruding chest could put an eye out.
Quick work was made of the mandatory handshakes escorting him down wobbly steps, his smug expression hardly focusing on just whom he exchanged the gestures with. It wasn’t until the end of the line that he felt it…a certain prickling of eyes at his back, like fine needles brushing the surface of his skin. A sensation strong enough to ruffle the fine hairs at his nape and interesting enough to compel a slight turn of the head. He must’ve imagined it. Naruto’s ridiculous saunter across the stage held the spotlight now. Whether it was with disapproval, amusement, or catcalls, everyone’s attention now honed in on the blonde.
Everyone’s…except...but really, when was the man not reading that thing?
A sudden bruising grip on his knuckles startled his own attention back where it belonged as the final handshake was exchanged. Sasuke expected no less from his father, head of law enforcement, hardly bothering to return the stoic look of acknowledgement. Coming face-to-face with indignant black eyes told him he’d witnessed everything and was none too pleased at his son’s display. When large fingers clenched Sasuke’s smaller ones, forcing the bones of his knuckles to grind together, he made it evident they would discuss the matter further at home.
That was always something to look forward to.
Making his departure from the stairs, he chanced a second look, honing in on the row of bleachers third from the top. Sure enough, his mother was there, equally as enthusiastic as her neighbors and taking pictures as often as the camera would allow. But she wasn’t what Sasuke was staring at. Instead his empty gaze settled on the vacant space beside her, reserved for her purse alone. Typical and not surprising at all. He knew this was how it would be. He knew and yet there was still the sinking feeling of disappointment. To keep his growing shame private, he was quick to avert his eyes and look away from any further photographs.
Once seated, he did nothing to prevent the hunching of his shoulders, sinking down in the chair more than was necessary so he could observe the empty space of floor beneath the seat in front of him. Sasuke may have been above embarrassment, but he was not above moping. Naruto plopped down shortly after, respecting the silence policy for a grand total of five seconds.
“Did you see Itachi?”
Blunt and wholly unnecessary. Two and a half years of psychology classes and the idiot still had bad people skills. Not even Sasuke knew why he felt compelled to answer.
“He’s not here.”
“Man, that sucks,” the blonde muttered before retracting himself from the Uchiha’s personal space to fiddle with his gown until something audible fell out. Retrieving the package, he held it in front of his friend’s face, “Want some gum?”
Sasuke pulled his eyes from the floor just long enough to make a face in the other’s direction. “How did you get that in here? I thought they searched everyone before we came in.”
“Well, not everywhere.”
That statement alone was enough incentive to decline Naruto’s offer.
***
Unfortunately not even the Uchiha’s moping could distract him long enough to outlast Lee’s novel of a closing speech, nor could it save him from Ino’s constant badgering to sign her yearbook as they exited in organized pairs. At last, long-awaited freedom came when graduates were dismissed to reunite with their parents. Sasuke regarded the hugging clusters with a not-so-friendly look, feeling much better once he reentered the building, effectively putting them out of view.
The now-empty hall leading back to the gymnasium granted his ears with a much-needed reprieve of the day’s constant shouting and yelling. Sasuke had to admit it was rather odd. Strolling the layout of the school without a soul in sight was something he’d never experienced before. Much too often he’d been faced with the complex task of navigating this congested maze, dodging, squeezing, and sometimes colliding with students and teachers alike. The passage had seemed narrow before, and only now did he realize just how wide it was.
For the first time he stopped to inspect their school’s prized mural. The expanse of wall had once been the general “hang-out” spot for all the jocks between classes, so he never really paid much attention.
It stood tall and predatory, all four paws dug deeply into the wall to give the illusion the large cat was climbing. Looming close to the ceiling, the panther’s turned head revealed a startlingly lifelike profile of yellow eyes and bared fangs. Even the haughty Uchiha had to admit Sai gave the school more than it deserved with this. To say their recent years’ football teams lived up to this powerful mascot would be quite the overstatement. He would never voice that though, not with Kiba’s unstable testosterone levels nearby at least.
Upon reaching the gym, Sasuke hesitated. Barely audible muffled voices could be heard from the large cracks under the row of doors. Recognizing the unmistakable boom of his father’s voice suddenly had him rethinking his intention of going in there. He paused for a moment to see if the conversation had ended, and was proved wrong shortly after. The man’s tone had lowered significantly, but was still livid. It was unusual to hear him seethe in such a manner, especially in a public place, therefore Sasuke was struck with a sudden intense curiosity to find out just what was being discussed.
Cautiously, he pressed his ear against the wood, careful not to make a sound. The sudden thought of his father speaking about his lack of proficiency on stage resulted in a pang of anxiety. If his actions had upset the man that much Sasuke knew he was surely in for it this summer. Fugaku Uchiha was an extremely temperamental man, and once he became disappointed there was slim chance of getting back in his good graces. Yet another reason why Sasuke looked forward to college: moving out of that house.
It took only a moment or two to prove his youngest son was the furthest thing from Fugaku’s mind.
“…a disgrace to the entire family. The way he refuses to contact us out of spite! He knew full well what was to be expected from him at an early age, and to not uphold that responsibility so that he can indulge in these rebellious tendencies is inexcusable. Not presenting himself here today is the first intelligent thing he’s done in a long time.”
The sinking feeling was back, stronger than ever. Whatever his mother said in reply went unheard as he pulled from the door faster than he meant to. Just hearing that alone was enough to make him regret coming back inside. He made to run a hand through his hair, temporarily forgetting the cap still resting on top. Clutching it with a white-knuckled grip, he roughly hurled it at the wall in a fit of anger. The gown was next, landing in a rumpled heap with a broken zipper.
Sasuke couldn’t help but stare scornfully at the mass of black at his feet. Itachi. Even when he wasn’t even fucking present everything became about him! Today was supposed to be his day, his moment to be the pride of the family. But the lack of one insignificant person’s presence was enough to ruin it all. And the pathetic thing was…it was just as much his own fault.
He’d entertained thoughts of Itachi coming to his graduation for weeks. Many nights in a row he’d spent listening to that one voicemail. The one that said “I promise I’ll be there” and “I’m sorry, Sasuke” in that uncaring and distant voice his older brother always had. For moments at a time he would stare at the phone and wonder what would have happened if he’d picked up when that unfamiliar number called. Maybe then…
Sasuke laughed aloud at his own pathetic thoughts. Subconsciously he ran his hand through messy black hair again, shaking his head immediately after to have the strands fall back in the same place. One last look was allowed at the discarded fabric below; his father’s muffled words were becoming less muffled by the second. It was grating and he could stand there no longer.
So he walked. And walked. And walked. By the time he reached the barren halls of the math wing, any negative thoughts had been successfully quarantined and shoved away. That frown, however, was persistent.
Unlike the gym, the halls here were as narrow as he remembered. Partly responsible were the large clunky lockers lining the walls like shoddy metal safes. It was interesting to note most of the girly graffiti hearts had been buffed off, yet Naruto’s indented swirls remained. As he continued on, the sharp smell of something once edible signaled that Chouji certainly had not cleaned his locker out all the way, and that Shikamaru hadn’t bothered at all if the papers sticking out were any indication.
He continued his aimless exploration until the slight patch of sunlight reflecting off the tiled floor directed his focus to the two doors just ahead. A side exit. Suddenly the thought of being outside became much more appealing. If he was lucky, he could catch Naruto before he left and hitch a ride. Sure, it wasn’t his number one choice of spending the afternoon, but it definitely beat returning home with his tyrant of a father.
Sasuke’s pace noticeably hastened now that he actually had a destination. Wandering was pointless, so he usually tended to avoid it. The sense of control eluding him for so long was at last falling back into place, restoring mental equilibrium and inadvertently converting his frown to that of something less. It wasn’t too late to fix things. Itachi be damned. Today was about him and he could do anything he wanted.
Anything…
He froze, fist clutching the door handle. Through the window it was evident most graduates were preparing to head out. All hugging and posing for photos had been replaced with a greater urgency to dine in fancy restaurants, a method of further showing off the success they felt. Even from his distance Sasuke could clearly distinguish the blonde from the mob, a shorter and more vivacious doppelganger to his father, who walked alongside him through the vast parking lot.
The pause extended as he watched the duo from afar. He was still on the fence with whether he should go or stay, his brain nearly split in two as he weighed the pros and cons.
Naruto…Naruto was social, which meant being around additional people. Naruto was a glutton, which meant eating in a restaurant was fated, and the follow-up with a sugary dessert: inevitable. And lastly…Naruto was sentimental, which meant four or more hours of upcoming wistful reminiscing, all likely centered on Sakura, and all better suited for a daytime soap opera.
Apparently the cons outweighed the pros.
It didn’t take much further convincing for him to pull away from the door. With a hefty sigh, he steeled himself for a return trip to the gym. The people: he could endure, the sugar-infested food: he could tolerate, but there was absolutely no way he could sit and relive those four years spent in this building. Graduation was about moving on, not lingering on the doorstep of adolescence. The sooner he forgot about this place, and the people encountered in it, the better.
Maybe…
Unfortunately this motivational thesis fell flat the second he laid eyes upon a certain classroom, or more specifically the mere inch of empty space between the door and its frame. An unlocked classroom. Further investigation certified all other doors were firmly shut, the rooms beyond opaque with darkness. But not this one.
Curiosity grew the closer he came. It wasn’t like the nervous urge driving him to eavesdrop on his father. It was intrigue. If the classroom was indeed occupied, this would be his first chance for entertainment of the day. The thought alone send a thrill up his spine, though he’d never admit it.
Just outside the door, he stopped. Finally something to chase the storm that was Itachi from his mind, something that might-just might-have the ability to lighten his mood.
Many times he’d passed through this door, long after receiving his credit for the class. It was like some sort of strange force had the ability to pull him in its direction every time he turned down this hallway. Initially he resisted it, of course. What type of student went to visit his teacher when…well…when he wasn’t their teacher anymore?
That question floated, unanswered, to the back of his mind. Each time his feet stepped over that threshold, it got pushed further and further away, until Sasuke no longer questioned himself. He wanted to be there, and the other never minded. So what was there left to ask?
Some days they would sit and talk between periods. Just quick unimportant conversations exchanged in the thirty-or-so seconds Sasuke had to spare. Other days they would lounge for the forty minutes of Sasuke’s lunch period, relishing in more in-depth exchanges. It wasn’t every day, more like a few times a week. But it made school, this last year in particular, much more bearable.
Which was why Sasuke stood here now. This would be his last chance. He wasn’t sociable by nature, and assuming he’d find a similar individual in college would be foolish. So just for today-in this moment-he could still be a student here. One last talk…he honestly didn’t care whether it was about the news, television, or even theories of how Kiba’s mother squeezed herself into that tiny dress.
That last thought evoked a smile, albeit a tiny one.
“Graduating’s got even you in a good mood, I see.”
In hindsight he should have been prepared for that. However, that didn’t stop Sasuke from quickly dropping the upturned ends of his mouth and turning with hardly-stifled surprise. He was met with his old trigonometry teacher’s towering form, two lazy-lidded eyes, and faced with a much-too comfortable, much-too relaxed grin, looming over him.
Rather than acknowledging the sudden cramped feeling, the Uchiha managed a rather refined mask of boredom and kept his chin raised, answering the man’s expression with one of his own. “Your classroom was open.”
“Ah, so it was. Though that hardly seems a suitable reason for you to smile at my door, hmm?” gray eyes glimmered in amusement at the thought, observing the Uchiha’s top lip curl upward with annoyance. “Of course it’s none of my business. Here, you left this in the gym.”
Sasuke released his scowl just long enough to observe the object in the man’s offering hand. His diploma. He must have left it under his chair when he got up to leave. To be honest, he hadn’t even realized it was missing amongst all the other thoughts plaguing his mind. Reaching out to take it, Sasuke dodged voicing gratitude and did his best not to notice the way the leather-encased document remained warm with the memory of long tapered fingers.
“Students don’t usually choose to roam school halls over going out to celebrate.”
It was hard not to scoff at the man’s “teacher tone”. His laid-back personality and lack of professionalism would make most mistake him for a student if it weren’t for his height and clothing. Even in moments like these, where his voice was stern, it was hard to take him seriously.
“Graduation was enough celebration in itself,” Sasuke remarked dryly. He drifted off to eye the patches of flaking paint on the wall, wishing for the silence to urge the man off the subject.
“Yes you looked positively tickled when you almost ate the stage.”
Heat crept up his neck at the memory, but Sasuke ignored it. His tongue curled with the desire to counterattack, but his mind had gone uncharacteristically blank. Looking over to see the man still smirking confidently down at him, however, had the heat creeping up his face before he knew it. It was like sitting in front of a camera. Just because you weren’t supposed to move, you wanted to squirm. And Sasuke was squirming.
Always this happened, there was absolutely no control over it. It was awkward, it was uncomfortable, and Sasuke didn’t like it. He never liked it. Not even the first time it happened two years ago when Kakashi informed Sasuke that his sixes looked like little Bs. The light teasing, that’s what got to him the most. But only when it came from him.
Embarrassment had bowled over pride and was likely to make three touchdowns before it was apprehended.
“If it helps any, I did fall at my graduation. Fell down six steps and chipped my tooth on the tile,” Kakashi pointed to an incisor as if to prove it, “You can’t notice it so much anymore. It was my own fault, really. I had always been too lazy to tie my shoes.”
The corner of Sasuke’s mouth twitched, the flush long gone. Vivid images flashed in his mind while listening to the humorous anecdote, successfully relieving whatever tension he’d held. A glance down informed him that Kakashi made sure to keep his laces in check nowadays. “Idiot,” he muttered.
Kakashi beamed at him, obviously not feeling uneasy in the least about sharing a moment like that. “It builds my character.”
Sasuke eyed the man as he stepped past him toward the classroom, backing slightly into the hall.
After pushing the door open, Kakashi faltered after a few steps before turning to face his former student. “Well you’re already here, and you’ve made it clear you don’t plan on doing anything today. Care to help out a teacher in need?”
Before Sasuke could question just what Kakashi meant by that, the man gestured to a large stack of papers sitting on the cluttered desk. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of grading things, but he stepped forward nonetheless. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Oh, and Sasuke? Close the door…I’m actually not supposed to be here either, but I have to get through these papers before school ends. I don’t need Tsunade to find me in here and chew me out for doing my job.”
Sasuke did as he was asked, though he recalled the buxom principal rushing out just as quickly as the graduates. Doubling back, he approached the desk again, observing the complete lack of organization. Amongst the high stacks begging to be graded were scattered pens, balled up pieces of paper, absentee notes, a hall pass, and a mug…with a Chihuahua on it.
“Looks like you’ve tidied up a bit.”
“Hm? Really?”
“No.”
***
Thirty minutes later had Sasuke not even a quarter of the way through his stack. The current test he was glancing over, dated all the way back from March, was littered with red marks. Slashing through wrong answers, circling things that didn’t make sense, calculating scores. His fingers were cramping around the pen and his spine ached with the way he sat hunched on the windowsill.
He glanced over at Kakashi to see how he was faring. Neither had spoken much since they started, the task turning out to be more work than either anticipated. The man was hunched in a similar way over his desk, elbows resting atop the polished wood-well Sasuke assumed there was polished wood beneath the clutter-and head resting in the palm of one hand. The man’s lids were drooping lower and lower, his own pen barely lifting from the paper as it scaled down the page.
Sasuke breathed a loud sigh, arching his back before reclining. The fingers of his right hand twitched as they were finally allowed to release their hold. “Either your students have become increasingly moronic or your ability to teach is failing, because I haven’t come up with anything higher than a C.”
Kakashi replied with a low laugh, leaning back in his chair, raising his arms overhead as his back arched with an audible pop. He slumped back down looking boneless and relaxed, in other words like himself. “Well it can’t be all my fault. After all you turned out okay.”
Sasuke snorted and snatched up the pen again, though his fingers ached in protest. Quickly he began slashing through another series of incorrects. “Only because I read the book.”
“But not because I made you stay after school?”
His hand froze in the middle of drawing an eight.
“…That too.”
So maybe he still had problems admitting it. Yes, Kakashi had made him stay after school. Yes, Kakashi had taken notice when his grades started to drop. Yes, Kakashi watched him crumble to pieces the day after Itachi left. But no, Kakashi wouldn’t let him forget about it.
The next three graded tests produced an A, B+, and another A. Sasuke really didn’t feel the need to inform the man of this, though. Surely the sensation of having his foot in his mouth was enough.
Silence stretched on again for another fifteen minutes. This time it was Kakashi who broke it.
“I appreciate the help and all, but shouldn’t you head home? I’m sure your family is looking for you.”
Dark eyes tilted up from the paper in his lap as Sasuke fixed the man with a skeptical look. It was obvious his parents had been long-gone, and he knew Kakashi knew that. As they locked gazes Sasuke began to mull over the words, searching for some hidden meaning. “Is that your way of asking me to leave without being an ass?”
Kakashi hadn’t been grading for several minutes, opting instead to recline lazily in his office chair, the foot propped on his desk subtly rolling him back and forth. “Not really, I just assumed most people like to spend time with their parents on occasions like these. Wouldn’t want to be holding you up.”
Sasuke’s eyes narrowed slightly as they honed in on the pen cap encased in the other’s mouth. He watched with vague interest as the blunt tip moved back and forth, obviously being nudged at the other end by Kakashi’s tongue. Only when it stopped did he look the other in the eye again, realizing the man was waiting for a response.
Shrugging slightly, he went back to grading, aware of the sudden urge to taste the plastic clutched in his hand. Setting the object aside, he sighed in annoyance at his inability to focus. “You’re not holding me up. My father’s not in the best mood today. If I had went home with them I’d just be wiling away hours in my room, anyway.”
Taking the cap from his mouth, Kakashi brought his foot down and rolled back up to the desk. Rather than putting it back on the pen, he dropped it into the empty mug with a light ting, (Sasuke pondered saying “this is why you can never find anything!” but thought better of it.) before resuming his previous position.
“You don’t know for sure,” Kakashi drawled, “What if they meant to surprise you and take you somewhere? Your opportunity to go ice-skating could be ruined because of me.”
Sasuke gave an incredulous laugh, all thoughts of working cast aside. “Nobody goes ice-skating after graduation.”
At this, Kakashi gave a crooked smile.
“…No you didn’t.”
“I wasn’t allowed to go with my friends, afterwards. My mother dragged me there. She said ‘maybe if you learn to walk on ice, stairs won’t be such a challenge’,” he laughed loudly at Sasuke’s suppressed smile, “She hadn’t counted on me being able to do neither.”
Sasuke couldn’t help but snicker. Yes Kakashi poked fun at him every chance he got, but he balanced it out with how often he made fun of himself. And in turn that made it almost okay. “Good thing you don’t need a lot of motor skills to sit behind a desk.”
As if on cue the man had leaned just a little too far back in his chair, the wheels sliding from the floor to midair in one quick swipe. Amazingly enough, a long arm launched up just in time, fingers gripping the edge of the desk tightly and heaving the accompanying body and chair back up before they could crash to the ground. Slightly out of breath, Kakashi’s droopy gray eyes appeared wide-awake now. His silver hair, which had whipped forward in the violent jerk, hung clumsily in his face.
“Looks like my reflexes are on point though,” he breathed loudly, “Yours too, Sasuke.”
Sasuke hummed disparagingly, releasing his hold on the man’s wrist and starting back toward the window, all the while trying to slow the hammering in his ribcage. It was only a few feet away; it wasn’t as if he’d leapt at the desk from across the room.
“You left your pen,” Kakashi stated, still sounding a little dazed.
Frowning, because he was feeling a little dazed himself, Sasuke backpedaled to where the man sat. Reaching out, he grasped the offered utensil. It was impossible for their hands not to touch with the way Kakashi’s fingers curled around the small thing like spider legs. Briefly he wondered if the man was putting as much thought into the contact as he was, but then he stopped the train of thought upon realizing how ridiculous it sounded.
Pulling away, Sasuke fought hard to shake off the foreign sensation of bony knuckles. Something didn’t feel right about the way they seemed to linger against his fingers long after he’d drawn back. It was as if an imprint had been stored within his DNA. The slightly rough texture, the underlying firmness where bone raised against skin, and the warmth…
Sasuke wondered if Kakashi’s palms would feel warmer.
That thought caused him to visibly jolt, body flinching as he took a step back from the desk. Kakashi was staring at him intently, reading him, and Sasuke was suddenly desperate to become illegible. Mumbling a word of thanks, he diverted his eyes and made his way back to the windowsill. Still on the ledge and glinting in the sunlight sat his pen, untouched.
Part 2