反射 - Hansha - Reflection pt 2

                                    

                                          
He towers over you, arm caging your body against his wall. Any closer and his skin will touch yours, his body temperature spiking to higher degrees. You feel it emanating from his body.


                          
Sasuke always had a higher body temperature than most.


                          
How'd you know? You've been sparring and dueling him for far too long to ignore the minor details. The way his eyes tighten into something narrow when you've caught him off guard. The way his shoulders tense up ever so slightly when you've managed to catch him into a grapple hold on the ground. The way the air around him gets hotter as the match lengthens but he'd have to stop himself from spitting a quick gokakyu over at your direction.


                          
You're no stranger to physical proximity. Purely from a shinobi point of view (physical proximity with Naruto is different. Like when you're able to just let go and just sink into something soft and fuzzy and your brain turns completely blank. Yeah. Like that).


                          
His eyes bore into your singular one like a a hawk watching an earthworm burying deep into the dense earth with an almost predatory gleam from within. You've always thought that Sasuke was okay looking. Maybe because you've been through the lens of a rival, someone you're supposed to envy. Someone who set almost an impossible standard for the rest of your cohort. All the guys want to be him. All the girls (almost) like him enough to want to be with him.


                          
Ino being the prime example. She's always had a soft spot for handsome and talented boys. And she (really) likes Sasuke. Think about what that implies for a second.



                          
You look back at him, trying to steady your breathing. Taking in what he had just said to you. The whole thing about Itachi killing Shisui. Shisui's cause of death wasn't suicide. Now that you think about it, why would there be any messenger crows shuttling around such sensitive information? One, Konoha doesn't use crows as messenger birds. The only person you know of that raises his own flock of crows is-


                          
Ugh. You feel another sharp pang at the front of your head, right between your eyes.


                          
Did he set it up after his death so it wouldn't worry you as much? He knew you wouldn't have dug deeper into the issue. There was no way you'd actively sought out Sasuke for questioning or anything of the sort. You didn't trust anyone with the information you had. He played you like a puppeteer tugging and pulling at the strings, making you dance to the melody that he orchestrated specifically for that very purpose.


                          
But what's true and what's not?


                          
You let your body sink down the wall, you shoulders slumped. Averting your gaze away from his face. He's too close. 


                          
Sasuke's still staring down at you with a dark look in his eyes. You circle your wrists with your other hand, applying slight pressure on your bruises. The pain keeps you alert and aware of every single detail, every pore, every curve. Each thread of thought stringing along by the little neurons dashing back and forth inside your head.


                          
He curls his fingers into a fist, the arm to your side, and hit the wall again before coiling back into his seat. A perturbed look on his face as he runs his other arm down the front of his head, giving his hair a firm tug before it just flops back into position. The wall feels cold against your back, a big difference compared to before.


                          
"I-" He says but ends up tripping over his words instead, "I shouldn't hav-" Sasuke groans, hanging his head over the table with both of his arms propping his forehead up, "You're not wea- I. That was selfish of m- Tch." He struggles with his words. His chest has stopped heaving as much as before but his back and shoulders are practically screaming stiff and tense. On guard.