Aprils Fool - Blog Posts

OH MY GOD!

....

Very funny, Nintendo

Very Funny

YOU SON OF A B*TCH AND A**HOLE COMBINED

April’s fool swap!

Here’s my contribution to the April’s fool swap mentionned in this post!

Flufy made one too!

(English isn’t our first language, we did our best)

                                                     COMFORT

It’s a beautiful day.

After so much mist, so much water, so much smoke and mirrors and snow, he cannot feel the morning sun kiss on his face and think otherwise.

Kakashi is recovering, (so is he, actually), so they are to remain in this town for now. He hates to be stuck there, without his scrolls and books and unable to train. So much time to think, he usually welcomes it. It allows him to steel himself, to refocus himself over and over on his resolutions and to hold on tight onto his memories.

He doesn’t welcome it just now, when his mind betrays him even more than his body.

Yesterday, he almost died.

Today, when he opened his eyes, an unusual feeling sat heavy on his chest, where a stripe of sunlight fell from the window. What is the sun for ? he thinks. What is warmth for ? Why does it have to be bright, clear and so painfully comforting ? Comfort has always been but a weakness, to him. No, that isn’t the truth. There was a time when he was self-indulgent. Comfort, then, was something he allowed himself to have aplenty, something that was but distantly tainted by a sense of guilt that bore the face of his father, spoke with the voice of his father.

He almost died yesterday.

The problem doesn’t lie with the « dying » part of the sentence ; death, he knows about, he has seen its heartless work and felt its cold clutch. Death, for him, has been woved into the fabric of his very existence since he was 8. The problem lies with the « almost ». If he had either died for good or not thrown  himself in front of any lethal needles altogether… If only, he thinks in a young and small inner voice, if only he had just died. He would have been free from it all. From the pain, the memories, the hate and the thirst for revenge.

Free from the exquisite, unbearable kiss of the sun.

Naruto is being loud and cheerful, and obviously believes he does a good job at pretending everything is alright. The fool. Casual observation makes him revise his judgement, though. Yes, Naruto is a fool, but all the others are even bigger fools for not seeing through his gesticulations.

And I, the biggest fool of all, he thinks.

What is unnerving is that, having survived, he now has to deal with the implications of his (attempted) grand sacrifice. He couldn’t even die for someone properly. (He was always the disappointing one, after all.) The implications are thus : he was supposed to live and die for his objective. Not find himself so violently shaken off his intended path as to throw it all to the wind in order to save someone else’s life.

Someone else.

Naruto’s eyes dart his way for the uptenth time since the battle on the bridge settled down. Eyes a bit like Sakura’s, that weight on him. Eyes like his own mind, full of unsaid, unspeakable things that he will never aknowledge beyond mild annoyance. Yes, he’s alive, so if they could both get over it already. His eyes sure don’t keep coming back to the usuratonkachi like he was some kind of magnet, do they ? It’s not that hard, damn it. If he can just avoid looking at him directly for some time…

Actually, cross that : his eyes just met the idiot’s. As with the few previous times it has happened since the day before, it sends his brain into panick mode and he automatically makes a sour face, mirrored instantly on the usuratonkachi’s features, and they both look away. From the corner of his eye, he can see that Sakura, who apparently deals with his resurrection by sticking close to him at all times, has noticed. But there is only so much he can feel miserable about, so. Let her ponder. He’s already at his maximum, what with feigning indifference.

His controls are in shambles. This is so bad. And the day is so bright. He would glare at the sun were it not an idea so stupid even the idiot would ridicule him for it. Still, the bizarre temptation remains. He cannot glare at his preferred target for obvious reasons, and the sun would be the next best thing. He settles for closing his eyes and regrets it as soon as, instead of blood under a full moon and a room full of pain, appears a teary face with a wide, trembling grin – sunshine through rainy clouds – as if burned against his eyelids.

He heaves a silent sigh. Whatever. This isn’t the first time the usuratonkachi has puzzled him to the point of getting under his skin, and it certainly won’t be the last. (This time, though, whispers a treacherous voice that he doesn’t manage to ignore as well as Sakura’s or Kakashi’s, this time it is not about what Naruto did, like kiss him out of the blue in front of the entire class, no, this time he was the one to do something that he can’t make any sense of, like give up his life and purpose so that Naruto would keep on breathing, and keep on dreaming – but such irrelevant details are to be carefully swept aside. There is no sense in dwelling on things like emotions, bodies that move on their own, or comfort that ruthlessly takes apart the frozen cores of loneliness.)

He is grateful for the fact that the hoarseness resulting from his neck injuries gives him an excuse to be even more taciturn than usual, as it gives him time to recover from this blow on his mental balance. Small mercies. Who would want to talk on such a beautiful day, anuway ? Naruto does, of course. Naruto wouldn’t understand (though he comes the closest) and Naruto has him own way of dealing with pain.

The deadly boy, soft-spoken, and swift, and so startingly innocent : of course that idiot had to go and befriend him when he was their ennemy, right before they had to fight him – right before he had to die. This is why Naruto is a fool and Sasuke cannot understand him : how he hopes still, how he has so much to give when he received nothing but hatred and rejection. He cannot understand how He-Who-Has-Lonely-Eyes can have encountered real violence for the first time yesterday, and crack as many bad jokes and blinding smiles today.

Of course it was nothing like his own witnessing of the death of his entire clan and family. But still. This boy feels so much, he knows (he knows, perhaps, better than anyone). And he may seem shallow but he is anything but (this, also, he knows intimately).

(He so wishes he hadn’t been put on the same team as this particular boy, he so wishes it mattered as little as he lets on, as little as he initially thought it would. He so wished the mere sight of him didn’t rouse a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, right where you would steal an opponent’s breath from him; and he so wishes that none of this was so sickeningly akin to all that he tries his damnedest to kill in himself. He so wishes he was well past wishful thinking.)

He realizes that, for once, he kind of welcomes Sakura’s fussing, for she, at least, is safe to be around. It’s easy to feel a companionship with her that provides a measure of relief without threatening the very foundations upon which he built himself.

That is how he knows how very bad this is. Because even this relief shouldn’t be indulged in, and yet it feels immeasurably safer than what Naruto does to him. Even worse : he has noticed all this a long time ago, and still let it happen, this… melting of sorts.

(Naked truth : Sasuke is shaken. Badly. Shocked and furious at himself. How did he allow this to happen ? How come he cares so little about what he almost did ? As if given the chance to second-guess himself, to consider what he was about to do, he would have shielded Naruto just the same ? But hush. Hush. Such thoughts, flaring and burning, they don’t belong with him. Hush.)

Yes, he finds all of this quite unnerving. How the day is so sunny, how some people smile and brag and bounce around, how some people, cheerfully and with pugnacity, build bridges against all odds.

Yeah.

How long before this annoying awkwardness between him and the usuratonkachi dies down and is forgotten and never talked about again ? In the meantime, they’ll keep passing it off as hostility, and that will be comfortably far from anything like comfort. In theory.

If only it wasn’t such a beautiful day.

- Smuty -

April's Fool !

A while ago, Smuty and I saw this post on our dashboard, and the idea obviously charmed us.

So here is my contribution, very short because I don’t consider myself confortable enough to write a long story in english (I have longer ones in french though), and also it was meant to be made into a strip for the Shisuita week last year. I’ll draw it eventually. Hope you’ll enjoy it^^:

Shisui is like the sun. When he enters a room, everyone’s at ease. When he is not in mission, he often smiles, and there are no shinobi more gifted than him among the Uchiha. Fast. Efficient. And deadly. Two opposite faces of his personality, and yet gracefully melted into his shape. His light is overwhelming. He is infinitely beautiful. And I love him more than anything.

But the most incredible is that he also loves me. I, who is only a mere shadow among the shadows, have the privilege to touch the sun. My personal sun. And we share all of our secrets, and little by little, we melt into each other so one day…

Eyes open. Black eyes, in the night. Itachi is a bit sweaty, short breath, and has his chest half covered with a blanket. He turns his head to the side. Kisame is sleeping by his side. Itachi calms down. Eyes on Kisame. They turn red.

He stands from the futon. He’s naked. He takes the black cloak with red clouds and put it on his shoulders. Kisame’s still sleeping. Itachi goes on the balcony. He tighten the cloak around him.

He stares at the landscape, and suddenly he coughs, and there is blood in his hand.

He looks at the blood and smiles:

“Don’t worry my dear…”

Raise head:

“We will be soon reunited”

Stars.

“Wait for me Shisui”

PS: Smuty made one too !

- Flufy -

We are totally doing this OvO

(what should we tag this in order to browse each other’s contributions, though?)

For April Fool’s are we doing the swap again? Where writers draw and artists write?