The nurse on duty at the St. Januarius Memorial Hospital in San Francisco was used to people coming in covered in blood, so when the worried man carrying his daughter who was coughing up and covered in the red stuff came up and asked to see a doctor, she wearily checked who was available and sent the man down the hall to see Dr. Glen, one of the many on staff at 3 AM. Without thought she moved on to the next incoming patient. There’d been a gangfight tonight, and the stupid kids were slowly dragging themselves in. Bullets and stab wounds, and gallons of blood, quickly pushed the man and his daughter from the nurse’s mind.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They had barely had enough time to clean up the fluids from the rape victim he’d sent up to gynecology before the next patient was brought in, a little nine-year-old girl covered in blood and coughing up phlegm and blood into her hand. Quickly Dr. Walter Glen started an IV drip to keep her hydrated and got suction in to clear her lungs. In the process his wrist grazed her forehead and he yanked it back immediately, thinking he’d been burned. Cautiously he took her temperature—it was 105*F, almost deadly.

Quickly he started the procedures to bring her temperature down. The usual antibiotics, ice packs, the IV drip, and plasma to help replace the blood she’d lost. He’d get her medical records right away and make sure she got a transfusion too. Dr. Glen had wanted to be a pediatrician, but had instead gone into general practice. Still, as he watched the girl being taken up to the children’s floor ICU, he couldn’t help but feel that there was a special bond between kids and himself.

Because it was early morning, and the emergency room was busy, the sheet with tests requested for nine-year-old Stefanee Mihail were clipped under her chart and forgotten about, even by Dr. Glen. After all, accidents happened, and it was just a bad bug, something she’d eaten probably. Allergies, maybe. (By the time the tests were finally run, three weeks later, it would already be too late.)

He’d see to it tomorrow. St. Januarius had a special provision for children, and Dr. Glen knew that little Stefanee was in good hands.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The restaurant was noisy; between the music and the patrons, it spilled out onto the sidewalk passing by.

“Nej! Hey, Neji!”

Rubbing his temples, the twenty-one-year-old business major looked up from his plate. He’d ordered a grilled cheese sandwich, and he’d been famished so he’d asked for extra fries. It had sounded so good when he’d picked it off the menu on the wall, but now he was looking at it and feeling vaguely nauseated. Hurriedly he took a sip of his water and grinned across the table at the blond.

“Sorry, I was daydreaming,” he said. “What did you say?”

“Just asking how your classes are this semester. Heard you had Danzou for Adminisration—that’s gotta be killer.”

“Yes, he’s a tough professor. But he’s an educated man and knows what he’s talking about.”

Kiba leaned in, his drink held loosely in his hand. “Heard he got thrown in jail once or twice. Fanaticism, conspiracy theory types.”

“Colleges attract those, Kiba,” Itachi shot back across the table. His arm was draped around the back of Neji’s chair, hand stroking Neji’s shoulder. The twenty-five-year-old was in his second year at UCLA’s Law School and was shaping up to be a very promising lawyer. He planned to specialize in public policy. He had also been dating Neji very seriously for three years; they’d lived together for the last eight months.

“Yeah, yeah. You get all the fruit loops in Law.”

“No more than the rest of the campus. There’s just a higher concentration of them…”

Neji tuned them out, picking at his food. The friendly banter made him relax, and he took another sip of water and ate a little more, and began to feel better.

On the ride home Itachi glanced over. “Something wrong?” he asked. “You looked ill at dinner.”

Neji shook his head, and curled his fingers around Itachi’s when they crept over, smiling reassuringly. “I’m fine.” He squeezed Itachi’s hand.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

In New York, a homeless man shivered under his covering of newspaper and cardboard. It was cold out, but he was burning with fever. It was his time, he knew, and willingly gave in.

He’d known he was sick for a long time—weeks. Four weeks, maybe a little less, and he’d started feeling weird for weeks before it had gotten serious. He was old anyway. His best blankets he’d given to a family; his clothing, to a woman who was obviously newly homeless. His stash he’d given to a buddy. All his possessions had gone, and he was ready to go to God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

Humming weakly, coughing, he thought he saw a pattern in the blood spatters across the newspaper. It looked like the Son of God.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“Naruto,” Hinata said slowly as he drove back to campus. They were both sophomores and were both in the dorms still.

“Yeah?” the blonde asked. He had been dating Neji’s cousin for about four months now. She was the best damn thing that ever happened to him.

“Did Neji look sick to you?”

“Maybe a little green. Probably just glaring at all that grease coming off his food.”

Teasingly she glanced over. “Yours was just as bad—that hamburger was as big as the plate!”

“I’m still growing,” he protested, but his dazzling smile lit up the car. “I need the food.”

Hinata’s giggles were better than the music blasting through the stereo.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Reported in the San Francisco Chronicle, February 19th, 2006:

Girl Dies Of Mysterious Respiratory Illness
St. Januarius Officials State Last Days Were ‘horrible, painful’

Associated Press, San Francisco:
Students at Bayview Elementary School mourned the passing of their friend and fellow student Stefanee Mihail today, after she died last Tuesday of complications from a respiratory illness.

Stefanee played on recreational soccer teams and liked to go hiking in Golden Gate Park. Family members have not set an official date, saying they’re forced to wait until after her body has been autopsied and the illness that killed her determined.

“St. Januarius’ was so kind,” tearful father Nikolai told us. “They did all they could for my little girl. But we’re all going to miss her.”

Stefanee was nine years old. Her birthday was just five weeks away.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Neji gasped, clutching the sheets in his hands and moaning as Itachi’s thrusts hit his prostate over and over again. All nausea, all other thoughts were nothing when his lover was buried so deep in him he could feel each thrust in his throat, when Itachi’s lips found his and they kissed so hard he bruised.

“Ah—god!” he groaned, squirming again as Itachi’s fingers wormed under him and stroked his nipples, rolling them around, running his nails over them, teasing them until each touch shot straight to Neji’s groin and he begged for Itachi to finish him.

“Do I tease you?” his lover whispered in his ear. Thrashing his head around, Neji thought the answer to that was clear and pushed back hard, asking for more, for harder…

The Uchiha thought there was nothing more beautiful in the world than seeing his lover spread across the sheets, long hair trailing and his pale grey eyes sparkling in the light. Pulling a hand away from tormenting his lover’s nipples, Itachi ran a finger down Neji’s spine and smirked when the younger man shivered and twisted half onto his side, one hand going down to his leaking cock to help himself. Reaching past Neji’s hip, he found the other’s hand and wrapped around and over it, his added pressure sending the normally reserved Hyuuga skyrocketing. His orgasm came in long, low moans that sounded vaguely like Itachi’s name—and in delicious waves of muscle contractions along the walls of his passage, pulling Itachi over the edge as well.

After he collapsed and lay panting a moment, reveling in his glow, Itachi pulled out and grabbed a towel off the floor, cleaning himself up with it after removing the condom and throwing it away. And despite his protests, Neji let Itachi clean him up as well, stroking the older man’s arm and chest. Tossing the towel into the hamper, Itachi rolled back over and spooned against Neji’s back, wrapping an arm protectively over him. Neji pulled the blankets up around them and sighed. The last three years had been good for them and good to them; they’d met by chance at the food court on campus and had gone out on a date that weekend, and while things weren’t perfect they didn’t expect it to be. They were a gay couple in a straight man’s world, closely knit with other gay couples, and they had their own problems in addition to those of any straight couple.

Itachi’s fingers drifted down to Neji’s hand, lacing together with his own. Neji nestled against him and smiled as he fell asleep, Itachi whispering that he loved only Neji in his ear.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Blog Entry: Some Things to think About…
Posted by: in_sight
11:34 PM, 2006-21-2:

Human life is fragile. Every minute of every day, someone breaks a bone. Every year, over 2.3 million people die in the United States alone, and many more are chronically ill. Some have spent years in the hospital, waiting for a cure or a donor and desperately clinging to life. Some have lost the will to live and are simply robots fed by machines, empty of all perception of life and the world around them.

Diseases are fragile as well, although they do not seem that way. Heat kills them; thus, the body produces a fever when one becomes ill enough. Extreme cold kills them; they can be expelled from the body via vomiting, coughing, sneezing, running nose or eyes, or any number of means that the body has for flushing itself and intruders out. The human body might be fragile, but so are the things that prey upon it. All diseases have a cure; all cures can be found in a lifetime.

Hope, I’ve found, is the one thing that can help those who are ill pull through. I’ve seen and heard of cases where the patient wasn’t expected to recover, but through the power of prayer and hopes of the family they were able to make a full recovery. Love, too, can bring people together and call souls back out of the darkness. A love between partners, a love between doctor and their patients that they’re charged with, a love between friends—without love, the world don’t work. That little girl that died in SF the other day? Her whole family was rooting for her, but even though she didn’t make it she’s gonna go to heaven and be with Jesus and all the Saints.

Speakin’ of the Saints, I’ve gotta tell ya—they’re havin’ a terrible year…

**
February 24th, 2006
34 Days after initial infection
**

The forest was still beneath the canopy; giant sequoias towered over the well-worn and muddy trail that ran through it. In the branches above, birds and squirrels made their homes. It was peaceful, quiet, undisturbed.

Suddenly, hoofbeats broke the serenity of the scene; first one horse and rider, then two more, and a few minutes after that the rest of the field. The trail was in the second half of a competitive trail-riding race, and the field had narrowed down to the three top riders.

In front was Shino, rider for his family-operated Aburame Ranch. He was riding Hornet, a seven-year-old chestnut Thoroughbred that he’d trained himself. Hornet was from a long line of track racers, but his seventeen-year-old rider hoped that the gelding had what it took to be a trail-riding horse. It’d be nice to get off the track for once, and he and Hornet had held the lead for most of this leg of the race.

Behind Shino was Ino, a freshman from East L.A. College. She had hopes to transfer up to UC Berkeley and get her degree in fashion design. She raced for a hobby; today she was on a Quarter Horse/Morgan cross named Nimbus, for the mare’s dappled grey coloring. She’d finished second in this race before and was determined to take home the first this time. But right on her flank was the person everyone feared.

Uchiha Sasuke had been racing since he’d started college; he had an associate’s degree from College of the Canyons in Criminal Justice, and he’d recently applied to get into the Police Academy in nearby Santa Clarita. And with help, he had bought and trained three Shagya Arabians, and every one of them had won trail race competitions in this region.

The one he was mounted on today was Anwar, a six-year-old blood bay stallion. Coming from ancient lines of desert horses, Anwar had stamina that no one had seen the bottom of yet, and a power disproportionate to his compact, dainty-looking body. Cross-country eventers in the Olympics might look to the fancier breeds, warmbloods and Thoroughbreds, but Arabians had great value and surefootedness, and a willingness to respond to their rider despite their fiery dispositions.

All that was right behind him. If Ino looked under her arm, she could see Sasuke’s determined face, pointed straight ahead. And Anwar didn’t even look sweaty. His ears were pricked forward.

Run seriously, damn it, the blond thought. I’m not gonna lose to someone who isn’t even serious about racing!

Gently kneading Nimbus’ sides with her heels, she felt the mare open out more. Her ears flattened back, and slowly they began pulling away. Anwar fell farther behind; Sasuke was looking off to the side, looking for something it seemed. Ino passed a rusty iron gate that he remembered was marked on the map as a shortcut, but a dangerous one full of water jumps and mud. Ino preferred the flatter, longer track that he was on. Looking behind him, she watched Sasuke and Anwar take the jump and go pounding off through the forest.

He’ll get bogged down out there, Ino thought. I’ve got this in the bag. They galloped away through the trees.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Shino had taken the shortcut as well, and checking his map showed he only had about half a mile until he crossed the finish line. The first two hundred yards of the cut had been deceptively smooth, but they’d jumped over a log and realized that there was a steep slope on the other side, covered with deadwood and brush. And behind him, Shino heard hoofbeats.

Hornet tossed his head, snorting, and Shino brought his attention back to the course only to haul the horse’s head around sharply and bring them to a stop. Prancing, Hornet balked, sidestepping along the barrier of dead brush; on the other side, a flat stream ran. The hoofbeats grew closer, and Shino’s eyes widened behind his sport glasses as Sasuke and Anwar thundered around the turn. The Arabian’s ears were flat back.

Shino realized they were going to take the jump, and tried to move. Hornet balked again, tossing his head. Sasuke wasn’t making any moves to dodge or go around.

“Are you out of your mind?” the Aburame rider yelled. “You’ll never make it!”

Right before he ducked and Anwar sailed over them, the brush, and splashed into the water, Shino caught Sasuke’s smirk.

He heard the splashing slow a moment. “I am out of my mind,” Sasuke called. They galloped off again, leaving Shino to stare after them and smile. They deserved the blue more than he did.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Once they left the thick of the forest the ground leveled off and Sasuke opened Anwar out, figuring he was far ahead of Shino and Ino. But when he heard a whinny and glanced back, Nimbus and her blond rider were bearing down on them. The mare was lathered, obviously tired, but her eyes were bright and he ears were back, listening to her rider. Scowling, Sasuke crouched forward in the saddle, focusing ahead. They still had to reach the long straightaway to the finish; it was just ahead the next turn and the brushy log that blocked it.

Slowing marginally for the approach, Sasuke watched Nimbus roar up beside them. In perfect tandem the horses took the jump. Anwar tossed his head up and down and Sasuke let him out fully. Once Anwar had his head, he shot forward, easily leaving a tired Nimbus in the dust.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

One man watched as Uchiha Sasuke and Anwar breezed over the finish line, still ready for more. Appraisingly the man looked the Arab stallion over; ears pricked, neck arched, prancing; winded but not exhausted. After enough wins, they would combine that and his lineage and be able to breed him.

“Walk him,” the man called as Sasuke dismounted. Behind him, Ino galloped across the finish line to a second place. Shino was behind him by a minute with third. Anwar whinnied at them. Pulling the reins over his horse’s head, he obediently went to the stable area to untack, rub down and blanket Anwar and put him on the walker to cool off. The pale man smiled, watching Sasuke walk his horse back. It had been a good day, worth the time he’d taken off from work.

Following them, he found Anwar properly taken care of and cooling off, and Sasuke packing the tack and their gear back in the trailer. “Good job,” he said, kissing behind Sasuke’s ear. “I am proud.”

Leaning back against him, Sasuke tilted his head and half-glared at the man’s chin. “I’ve been the best in this league for some time now. I’ve got enough points for the longer races—there’s one coming up in a month that I could take Nenet on, she’s ready for it.”

“Are you ready?”

“I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I weren’t.”

“Give me more information, and we’ll talk.”

Sasuke let himself grin. “Thanks.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“Mr. Yakushi, I’ve got a package here for an O—Oroki—Orochi—“

“Stop, before you hurt yourself; I’ll give it to Mr. Haruki. Where do I sign?”

“Right here. The contents are pressurized and in a controlled environment.”

“It must be from NIH then.” Kabuto checked the address and nodded. “More of the results?”

“Yes. Why doesn’t he just have them transferred via computer?”

“He doesn’t trust computers. He prefers to have hard copy.”

“That’s not usual in this industry.”

“Mr. Haruki is not a usual man. Thank you for your time, sir.”

Closing the door after the deliveryman, Kabuto sighed and opened the box, taking the silver container and putting it in the refrigerator and placing the manila folder with the printed statistics and the findings of the NIH team on his superior’s desk. Orochimaru Haruki was a well-educated and brilliant man, and his research into the aging gene might very well result in a way to slow down—or even put a stop to aging entirely. The so-called “immortality gene” as it had jokingly been dubbed among others, was something of a mystery.

Ordinarily, Mr. Haruki would have been here himself, doing his own work while waiting for the results, but his lover was an avid horseman and had a race today. Kabuto thought it was foolish, spending time so frivolously, but he’d seen the change in his boss since Sasuke had come into the picture. There was a picture of them together on horseback; Orochimaru in front, Sasuke holding onto him, sun lighting their pale complexions, occupying the place of honor in a frame on Orochimaru’s desk. It was all very idyllic and lovely. Personally, Kabuto felt that Sasuke took too much of Mr. Haruki’s time away from the project—how much of that sentiment was romantic jealousy and how much of it was professional drive was up for debate. Sasuke had come into the lab a few times, bringing lunch or just coming back from school to wait and study a bit. He was a handsome young man in the prime of his life; dark hair worked into one of those messy styles, all fluffed out in back, perfect body, and smart too. One didn’t just waltz onto the police force, and that was exactly what Sasuke looked to be able to do.

Putting his foul mood aside, Kabuto began shutting the lab down for the night. Tomorrow was Saturday, and he had a date with a lovely RN from a hospital in LA—Shizune, was her name. They’d planned on going out to Marioni’s, since Shizune loved Italian food. Kabuto smiled to himself and pushed his glasses up on his face. Saturday night would be fun.


Friday morning, Itachi was making breakfast as Neji padded slowly out into the kitchen and sat heavily on one of the chairs. Looking over, he said, “Good morning, Neji.”

“Morning, Itachi,” the Hyuuga said, yawning. There were dark bags under his eyes.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Not well.” The younger man frowned. “I haven’t been feeling well lately. I don’t have any energy, it’s hard to get out of bed.”

“You’re probably exhausted from all the work you’re doing. I know when I had Danzou, I worked like a dog and barely scraped a B-.” Itachi glared at the omelet he was trying to cook. It never came out right. He put bread in the toaster, turned it to the setting Neji liked, and pushed the button down, then walked over and rubbed Neji’s shoulders. “You don’t have him today, do you?”

“No, only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have…” Neji’s brow furrowed. “…Ethics of Business and Statistics today.”

“Do you want me to hand your work in and get the next assignment for you? You should stay here and rest. Take some Airborne before it gets any worse.”

“I’m fine, I can go—“

“Do you want to be sick for a weekend or for a whole week? You’re staying here.”

Scowling, Neji crossed his arms and sulked over his toast when Itachi handed it to him. The Uchiha watched him with one eyebrow raised.

“Don’t sulk at me, Hyuuga. You do no one any good by sneezing and falling asleep in all your classes. Stay here and rest, and you can go back on Monday.”

“Yes, mother,” Neji said snottily, and took his toast back through the apartment into the bedroom. Itachi heard an angry thump as Neji got back in bed, and sighed. Finishing his own breakfast, he poured a glass of milk and took it into the bedroom, setting it on Neji’s bedside table, and putting his arms around his lover’s waist.

Resting his chin on Neji’s shoulder, he said, “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I am trying to make sure you don’t make yourself sicker by going to classes. You remember the dorms, right?”

Neji huffed, but Itachi knew he’d listen. Delicately kissing Neji’s cheek, Itachi held him close. “I’ll bring you back a shake from somewhere after my class. We can rent some movies tonight. How does that sound?”

“That’s fine,” Neji said quietly. Itachi slid from behind him and fluffed the pillows behind his head, tucking the sheets in tightly around him and taking the plate once he’d finished the toast.

“Just rest today,” he repeated, soothingly rubbing his lover’s cheek and kissing him. “I have a meeting with my advisor today, I’ll be back around three.”

Neji nodded to show he’d heard and curled up under the blankets, closing his eyes. Itachi rolled off the bed and closed the blinds, and closed the door behind him. Neji’s books and work were on the table in the front room and he picked up the binders for the classes Neji said he had. He’d drop them off in the department boxes, and collect the day’s work. Neji was responsible enough to get the lecture notes after he got better.

His worries assuaged for the moment, Itachi drove to his classes for the day.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“Ow—Naruto, watch it!”

“Hehe, sorry Sakura. I was just—“

“Shut up, lecture’s already started!”

Hurriedly taking a seat, Naruto pulled out his notebook and started taking notes. Beside him, Sakura’s fingers flew across the keys of her MacBook. History of America, 1800 to present, wasn’t his favorite subject, but most of his friends were in it and he needed a GE course, so at least he had people to study with.

Uzumaki Naruto wasn’t a star student, Dean’s list person like Sakura or Hinata or Neji, who was also in this class. Craning his neck around, Naruto realized that the long-haired junior wasn’t here.

Elbowing Sakura, he whispered, “Where’s the grey-eyed wonder?”

“Sick today,” she replied briskly. “He texted me, said Itachi had his paper. I got it to turn in. You did your paper, right?”

“Of course. I need to keep my C+ somehow.”

“Naruto, you’re never gonna be president with your grades.”

“I will one day! You watch!”

Behind him, Kiba kicked Naruto in the back of the head. “Take notes, idiot!”

Naruto resettled in his seat and went back to taking notes.

Naruto, Haruno Sakura, and Uchiha Sasuke had all grown up in Pasadena. They’d been in the same class every year since kindergarten, sharing hopes and dreams together. They’d been at Sasuke’s coming-out party (he was 16, and it had been a double party for Neji who was 17) and despite Naruto being a little wierded out, they’d been supportive through the furor that had shortly followed that. Their friend needed them, and Sakura and Naruto, and one of the most awesome high school teachers ever, Hatake Kakashi, had been there when he called. They weren’t as approving of his choice in partners, but they’d grudgingly had to accept it. Sasuke was wonderfully stubborn when he wanted to be, and when he dug his heels in about something there was usually no moving him.

Sakura was pre-med, and already was a certified nurse interning under Hisano Tsunade, a talented doctor who had moved to America from her homeland of Japan. Haruki Orochimaru, Sasuke’s lover, had had much the same relationship with Tsunade and another, Akio Jiraiya, as Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke had. They’d been friends all their lives, and had even come to America together for graduate school. While Orochimaru and Tsunade had both stayed at UC Davis, getting their respective doctorates, Jiraiya had dropped off the map entirely.

Now, Sasuke was going into the police force up in Santa Clarita. Knowing him and his weird passion for horses, he’d probably do Search and Rescue on the side. Naruto was looking to be a business major like Neji, with a minor in political science. He slacked off but always managed to get his act together just in time to pull a passing grade out of his ass.

Taking notes and only half-paying attention, Naruto thought dreamily that maybe it was good that Neji had Sasuke’s brother for a boyfriend. The guy was finally taking care of himself.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade finished sewing up the stab wound and tied it off neatly; her fingers were as nimble as they had been when she’d graduated with her medical degree from UCD almost thirty years ago. They were still as sure, too, without the hint of a shake or a tremor, as if she’d started practicing just yesterday.

Sometimes, Tsunade thought wearily as she signed off on the patient’s chart and cleaned up the supplies, she wished she had just started practicing yesterday. She’d have the energy and the inspiration she’d had then, back before Orochimaru had become obsessed with decoding humanity and before Tsunade had lost her spark. Oh, she was still practicing—the money was good, and she was trained to help people after all, and under oath to—but she never came into work with a song on her lips and a smile on her face anymore. There was no one to remember that she had; all her friends had retired or moved to other places, opening their own practices. She stayed here.

Running a hand through her dyed-blond hair, Tsunade sighed when she saw the pink bag next to the door to the scrub room. Her intern was here; in Sakura, Tsunade saw herself and more. The girl had the touch, and was already taking over some of the less complicated procedures from Tsunade. The patients trusted her; they loved her in fact, and always asked after her when she wasn’t around.

“Ms. Hisano?” Sakura called, and came out of scrubbing. Her hair was always a violent shade of pink, which seemed to amuse all the patients. Along with her name, she was known as the little cherry blossom of Los Angeles General. “I’m ready. Who am I seeing today?”

As they went over the work for the day and Tsunade sent Sakura off on her way, she couldn’t help but feel envious of her own intern. After all, Sakura had her whole life ahead of her; Tsunade was old, older than she looked, and would soon become gray and crumble into the wind.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi came home that afternoon at three as promised. He’d stopped by some fast-food place and gotten Neji a shake, and picked up some movies on the way home. “Neji?” he called. Maybe his lover was awake; however, he got no answer, and set his backpack and the movies down on the low table in the front room, moving to the bedroom.

Neji was curled up on his side, asleep. Placing the shake next to the empty milk glass from this morning, he settled down behind Neji, pressing his cheek between the other’s shoulder blades. Neji’s breathing wasn’t as soft; it sounded a little wet, like his lungs were full of mucus. But he had a cold, and had probably been swallowing the stuff all day long.

In his sleep, Neji shifted, coughed a little. “Itachi?”

“I’m here.”

“Didja get that shake?”

“Right on your table there, whenever you want it.”

Neji lay back down. “Thanks.”

“Feeling any better?”

“No,” Neji snapped miserably.

“Rest. Let me know if you need anything.”

“All right.” Neji pulled the covers over his head and after a few minutes, Itachi heard his breathing slow. Picking up the shake, he put it in the fridge and turned on his laptop, getting to work on a case study they were doing in one of his classes. It was a difficult one involving Environmental law, something he wasn’t too familiar with but had to have at least a passing knowledge of.

The light was fading and he’d turned on a lamp when Neji finally padded out of the bedroom, shirtless. He settled himself delicately on the couch next to Itachi and looked at the analysis that the Uchiha had typed so far, and then spent a bit of time reading over the case study.

“Seems interesting,” he said finally. “Not my cup of tea, but interesting.”

Itachi saved his work and closed the laptop, putting it aside. “I got all your work for you when you want it.”

“Thanks,” Neji said. There was a hint of fight in his voice. Still, he looked exhausted, and it looked like he’d slept most of the day. “I’ll do it later. It feels like I’ve been beat up and had the life taken out of me.”

“You should be in bed then,” Itachi admonished. “Unless you don’t want to go back on Monday?”

“I should,” Neji said absently. He closed his eyes and leaned back against Itachi, putting his head in the older man’s lap. “Let’s watch one of those movies.”

“I’ll have to get up.”

Neji moved his head and watched with an intense silver stare as Itachi selected one and put it into the DVD player. By the time the movie was over, he was fast asleep.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“Hey, Alice?”

“Yes, Dr. Glen?”

“Pathology ever get back to us on what killed the Mihail girl?”

“I put them in her records.”

Dr. Glen went into the record room and pulled Stefanee’s file. The family wanted to know why their previously healthy nine-year-old had suddenly died, and to be honest, the doctor wasn’t sure at all. He’d sent the heads-up to a few other doctors, asking for their input. Only that medical genius, whatserface the Japanese broad from LA, had bounced ideas off him.

“Says here undetermined.”

“We’ve got her blood samples on ice still if you want to take a look.”

“Sure. Any idea what we’d be looking for?”

“None at all.”

Dr. Glen put the samples in an icebox and put them in the freezer in his office. He’d check up on them tomorrow; it was quitting time now. His son had a basketball game, and he was looking forward to going.

**
February 26th
36 Days after Initial Infection
**

Tsunade was examining a body brought in that evening; the coroner was out on vacation, so she’d volunteered to do the autopsy, with Sakura assisting. They had both taken careful precaution against blood transmission; latex gloves to the elbow, and masks.

“Lungs are full of fluid, and there are trace amounts of blood,” Tsunade said into the recorder. “Heart appears to have been overworked, although whether that’s an effect from the drugs he was shooting or from the illness is not able to be determined. But most of the internal organs are shot—brain especially. It looks as though his fever peaked out and fried it. Almost like the flu…but the body’s emaciated, not a symptom I’ve seen before. Almost like he wasted away, like he didn’t eat anything for the last few weeks of his life.”

She probed into his stomach and frowned. “Stomach lining is eaten away almost entirely. Possible reasons include alcohol, drug abuse, familial tendency to get ulcers, any number of things. He could have had really spicy Mexican food.”

Sakura giggled, green eyes sparkling. Tsunade shot her a look and she quieted, but her eyes were still bright.

Tsunade envied her.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi sat up at night, listening to Neji’s hacking coughs and thinking. The Uchiha did this often, but he’d become even more taciturn since the man beside him had taken ill, and all his thoughts were on this illness.

He’d started noticing that something was wrong some time ago. Neji had started to sleep late, miss classes here and there—uncharacteristic for the Hyuuga who was such a stickler for the rules. Itachi had assumed it was just something going around; even graduate students like him were prone to campus colds. But then Neji had started sleeping the day through, yesterday especially, and eating next to nothing. And then the coughing had started, a couple days ago. Deep, phlegm-filled coughs that shook his entire body and cut Itachi right through. They’d tried the strongest cough medicine available over the counter, and if it didn’t start clearing up in a day or two he was going to take Neji in to see a doctor. If it was the flu, it was damn tenacious. Even in the dorms it hadn’t been this bad.

Suddenly Neji sat up in bed, a hand going to his mouth. He pushed the blankets off and bolted for the bathroom. Itachi heard him retch and sighed. They were going to the doctor tomorrow. He could afford to miss the classes he had, and he’d already gotten Neji’s homework, and had one of his friends taking notes in lecture. (Neji went into a coughing fit in the bathroom, and then retched again; Itachi absently worried his lower lip.) They were covered; they could get antibiotics for this thing and hopefully with the proper medicine, Neji would get better. Settling back down, Itachi shifted the pillow under his head and reached across the bed to the depression Neji had left so that the Hyuuga could come back and snuggle under his arm. They had one of those memory foam mattresses—it had worked wonders for-

Itachi drew his hand back, and reached over to turn on the light hurriedly. Now he could see that Neji’s pillow and the sheets where he’d lain were soaked in sweat, literally dripping.

Neji had a fever. How could he not have known?

And then he realized—

It was silent. Neji was still in the bathroom. Fluorescent light poured out of the doorway, but even craning his neck Itachi couldn’t see anything.

Throwing the covers off, Itachi barely contained his urge to run across the room. He reached the doorway and froze as terror started to form a lead ball in his stomach.

Neji was curled up in a tight, sweaty ball against the bathtub. The shower curtain stuck to his skin where it touched. Bloody bile dripped from the corner of his mouth. Not wanting to look at what had come out of his stomach, Itachi closed the lid and flushed only to realize that he’d seen blood on the seat as well.

Turning on the water in the tub, he ran it as cold as it would go, and started pulling off Neji’s pajamas. The Hyuuga put up a weak protest before giving in, slumping against the tub. Itachi kept his worry in check for Neji’s sake, but his mind whirled. What illness could be so bad that it would stop Neji’s usual fight in its tracks? Neji always fought him whenever he was sick; he hated being babied.

With Neji completely naked, Itachi picked him up gently and set him down in the freezing water. Immediately the other began to shiver, teeth chattering. Cupping water in his hands, Itachi poured it over his back, shoulders, neck, making sure to get his hair wet, and turned off the water when it was to the Hyuuga’s waist. Sitting him back against the backrest, Itachi dipped one of the washcloths in the water and slowly sponged the sweat off his face. Neji opened his eyes; they were bloodshot and glazed over. Pressing his wrist against Neji’s forehead, Itachi inwardly swore. He was burning up.

Suddenly he was hit with another coughing attack, bringing his knees to his chest and covering his mouth with his hand. When it finally quieted and Neji pulled his hand away, Itachi saw it was covered in bright blood. He felt sick.

“I’m going to take you to the emergency room,” he said calmly as he picked Neji out of the water. “You’re worse than we thought.”

Drying him off, Itachi dressed his lover as warmly as he could against the late winter chill and put him in the car, running back in to grab what he’d need. One of his assignments to read, something to drink, water for Neji, his wallet, Neji’s insurance card, and his cell phone, and tossed them all in his backpack and locked the apartment. Neji was coughing again, and faintly Itachi could see blood speckling his palm.

When the car started, the music did too. It wasn’t too loud, but Neji groaned and covered his head. Surprised, Itachi looked over as he backed out onto the street. “Does it give you a headache?”

“Yes,” Neji said hoarsely. The Uchiha turned it off and they drove to the hospital in silence.

“Your doctor’s Dr. Hisano, right?”

“Yeah.”

“She knows me too; our family’s been with her since she started here, almost. She delivered my father, my brother and myself.”

Neji grunted but said nothing. Itachi gripped the steering wheel hard. “She’ll look after you. She’s a genius.” Reaching into his backpack, Neji pulled out the water and twisted the cap off. “Drink this so you don’t get dehydrated.”

Neji grasped the bottle in both hands to keep it steady and greedily sucked down half of it. Sighing, he capped it before going into another coughing fit.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade carefully examined the young man sitting back on the examination table. Pale, sweating, fever, nausea, headache, sensitivity to loud noises. Just the flu, it looks like. But that wouldn’t cause the bleeding in the lungs and stomach.

The image of the drug addict they’d autopsied earlier popped into Tsunade’s mind; and suddenly, she remembered the mystery disease her associate in San Francisco had e-mailed her about. Some little girl who had died with flu-like symptoms, but had the same things—vomiting blood, loss of energy…

Theories started whirling in her head, ideas, crazy thoughts that she didn’t even want to think about. It was dangerous to think them. But one word kept coming back to her:

Epidemic.

This was a quiet, unobtrusive, hidden epidemic waiting to happen. And she had one of the first reported cases right in front of her.

His boyfriend had brought him into the emergency room. She’ asked the kid a few questions—he was the older of two Uchiha brothers, she’d delivered him personally. Itachi had always been a serious kid, and she wasn’t surprised that he’d gone into law. He had the brain for it, certainly. He was still outside in the waiting room, reading something that looked dense and not at all stimulating.

Still, if this Hyuuga Neji was a victim to this disease, they had to work fast. She remembered Dr. Glen saying that the little girl had only been in the hospital a month before she died. After asking some questions, she was relieved to find that it had been caught early in Neji. There was time yet. Tsunade arranged for him to placed in quarantine, in the ICU. She went along with the nurses to see him squared away.

Slowly Neji’s grey eyes slid open as they were hooking him up to various monitors. “Dr. Hisano,” he said. His voice was wet, and she could faintly hear the mucus in his throat. “How long am I going to be in here?”

Tsunade stroked his hair reassuringly. Itachi told her Neji was a business major, and no doubt he was antsy to get back to his classes. “Hopefully not long,” she replied.

“Can Itachi—“

“Absolutely not,” she said briskly. “At this point, it’s too risky. You don’t want him to get sick too, do you?”

Neji struggled to sit up a bit. “I want to see him.”

“I can’t allow it.”

Defeated, Neji lay back down, sighing. “I guess you are correct.” The pain was evident in his voice, and Tsunade patted his forehead a last time and smiled.

“I wish he could see you too. It’s obvious he cares for you.”

Neji smiled weakly at her; then his eyes slid shut and he drifted into an uneasily sleep. Tsunade wrote the various things she wanted for him on his chart and walked back out into the waiting room.

Itachi immediately looked up, saw she was alone, and frowned. “Neji—“

“We’re keeping him here for now,” Tsunade cut in, using her most professional voice. “I believe I’ve diagnosed him correctly, but he’s got some strange symptoms and I want to be sure we’re treating him properly. And no, you can’t see him. He already asked.”

“Why not?” Itachi’s voice held a hint of anger in it.

“The risk of infection is too high. I don’t want to treat you both for the same thing.”

Itachi scowled. “I’ve been sleeping with him every night for the last eight months. I’m sure I’ve been exposed to it.”

“Be that as it may, I won’t have you in there. He needs to be calm and rested, not working himself up into a lather every time he sees you.”

The Uchiha glared at her. “Fine.”

“I’ll keep you updated on how he’s doing. Trust me, Itachi.” Tsunade smiled calmingly. “He’s in good hands.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

At her computer, Tsunade typed a short e-mail to Dr. Glen. She carefully couched her beliefs on the disease, and mentioned she had someone with similar symptoms. She asked for what they’d done to treat her, and also, very innocently, asked for a blood sample from the girl. Surely they’d done one?

She got a reply the next morning:

//Dr. Hisano,

Be careful, the disease seems to be transmitted through blood but could just as easily go through the air. We kept her isolated, and so far no one else has gotten sick, but we don’t want to risk it. I’m sending the blood samples down to you, they should be there this afternoon.

Good luck.

Dr. Glen//

**

Blog entry: Find Your way
User: in_sight
9:34 AM, 2006-27-2

Yanno, so many people these days aren’t doing what they want. We’ve got artists being forced to become engineers, doctors who want to be authors, musicians told they won’t make it and suppressing their own talent just to fit the bounds of society. It’s stupid, I say. Why don’t you do what your heart wants ya to?

I had a good friend once—he’s some big-name guy now, does a lot of stuff in the medical field—he should have been an athlete. My god, that guy could run. He was a smart guy though and I don’t doubt he’s done well by using his brain but I still think he’d have been happier using his body.

What I’m tryin’ to say here is that you shouldn’t give up. Ever. There’s always a way, even if you have to lie to do it. There’s an old saying from some religious text, don’t remember the exact wording but it’s something like “Better to follow your own law imperfectly, than to adhere to the laws of another. It goes against your svadharma, your own duty.”

And for those of you who are old and tired (you know who you are!) and want some excitement in your life—be damn careful what you wish for. I landed a minx who tried to suck all my money away with that one.

---
March 1st
39 Days after Initial Infection
25 Days Remaining
---
Tsunade made her rounds through the hospital, checking on all her patients. Sometimes she said a few encouraging words to them, sometimes she just checked the monitors, told them how they were doing, and left. The one patient her feet always seemed to want to take her to, however, was the one she looked forward to checking on the least. Hyuuga Neji was not taking his confinement well. And confinement it was; they’d done everything but tie him to the bed to keep him from fidgeting and adding injury to his sickness.

His sickness…Tsunade leaned against the wall outside Neji’s door, thinking back. She’d diagnosed it as a nasty flu, but now that she’d been able to watch him a few days she knew for sure that she was dealing with something much more powerful—and much more deadly. Since Neji had been admitted, she’d taken to searching for cases of similar symptoms, autopsy reports that mentioned fluid-filled lungs that bled, and a stomach lining eaten away, and evidence of a high fever. It was deceptive in that most cases were initially diagnosed as the flu—or AIDS, she noted, which supported Dr. Glen’s blood transmission theory.

But in analyzing the sample she’d gotten from the little girl, she hadn’t found anything that looked like what she was looking for. A distressing lack of white blood cells and antibodies, which meant that somehow the immune system was suppressed—but how, she couldn’t say. It had been so long since she’d worked with it…her days for the last twenty years had been filled with everyday, boring injuries. Broken bones, dislocated shoulders, sports injuries, gangfights…she didn’t know how to handle an epidemic.

And it was spreading.

Another case had cropped up in San Francisco; a 30-year-old man. And in Sacramento; a 73-year-old grandmother. Both were coughing and vomiting blood.

“Dr. Hisano!” Sakura came jogging up, arms full of gauze bandages. “Room 3 has a huge stab wound, looks like it came from a sword. I’ve cleaned it up already—do you want me to suture it as well?”

“Please,” Tsunade said.

Sakura didn’t move; she was staring at the door. “And Itachi’s here. He’s always right on time.”

“I’ll be right out once I finish with his invalid of a boyfriend.”

“Okay,” Sakura sang out, before trotting down to the room she’d been working in. “Okay, Mr. Norton, I’m going to…”

Sighing, Tsunade pushed the door open. “How is my star patient today?”

“Cut the crap,” Neji said irritably. He’d been in here three days, and was more than ready to get out and continue his classwork, and see Itachi again. Tsunade had flatly disallowed any visitors, even a horde of his classmates, but it was the separation from his lover that took the most out of him. They were allowed to talk on the phone a little at night—not nearly long enough. But it was good to hear Itachi’s voice and his reassurances that everything would be okay and that when Neji was released from the hospital he’d be right there to take him home. “When am I getting out of here? When will—“ he was interrupted by coughing. Tsunaded pulled out a gauze pad and pressed it to his mouth. It was blood-spattered when she pulled it away, and she showed him.

“When you stop coughing up blood, and when your vomit contains no blood, we’ll let you go.”

“You told me it was just the flu,” Neji said. Already he was wearing out, and Tsunade made a mental note. Just over the last few days, his energy level had decreased alarmingly even though they were dripping electrolytes into his bloodstream. He took the normal array of pills and syrups for the flu, in addition with a few Tsunade thought he’d need. Still, he ate no more than was absolutely necessary, and always seemed to throw it back up anyway. That in itself was worrisome. Gently she laid him back on the pillows, feeling how thin he’d gotten. Neji’s silver eyes bored into her.

“Please be honest with me,” he said quietly. “I just…want to know. If you don’t want me to, I won’t tell Itachi or my family. But I must know what is wrong with me.”

Tsunade sighed, taking down his heart rate and temperature, making sure everything was normal. “I don’t know what you have, to be honest,” she said wearily. “It looks like things, but it acts in a way that’s different than anything I’ve ever seen before. I’m cooperating with other doctors who are seeing this same thing in their patients. We’ll come up with a cure. In the meantime, Neji, keep your spirits up. I know it placates your Uchiha shadow.”

“Itachi?”

“He comes by to ask how you’re doing, and pester me about letting him see you.” Tsunade wrapped the cuff around his upper arm, pumping the little bulb so she could take his blood pressure. “He’s very devoted.”

Neji blushed, and she thought about how nice it was to see some color on a person who was all stark grey eyes and pale skin. “I was fortunate.”

“He says the same about you. How’d you two meet, anyway?”

“Kind of a story.”

She hushed him so she could take his blood pressure, and when the reading popped up she wrote it down.

“I’ve got time.”

He laughed a little, weakly. “It was the middle of Feburary, raining cats and dogs. I was a little freshman, he was a junior, and we were both trying to get a seat inside the food court so we didn’t have to run for cover outside. There was one table left, for two people. We took it as a sign. We’ve been dating ever since.”

“And living with each other?”

“I moved in about eight months ago.”

Tsunade mentally checked airborne diseases off her list. If they’d been together that long, Itachi would be getting sick by now. “What do you think of his family?”

Neji scowled. “They remind me too much of my own family.”

The Hyuugas were a wealthy East-Coast, Old Money family who traced their ancestors back to Norwegian and French royalty. Neji’s father had died in Vietnam; his uncle, Neji’s father’s twin, had taken the talented boy into his own family. But the Hyuugas made a big to-do about family being involved in their shipping and trading business, and even though he was the Business major and Hinata was going into education, it didn’t seem likely that Neji would be able to take over the business when Hiashi stepped down. They wouldn’t have liked that their talented Hyuuga son was gay, either. Neji must have had it rough. Not as rough as the Uchiha family with their two sons, both gay. But she’d known Itachi and Sasuke long enough to know that neither had a mind for sitting behind a desk all day pushing papers and bitching like their father; they wanted to be doing something. The Uchiha brothers were an energetic, kinetic pair.

Tsunade finished taking Neji’s vitals—elevated, as they had been for all three days. She checked off on the dosages he was getting and hung his chart back on the peg at the foot of his bed.

“I’m doing all I can to get you healthy again,” she said. “I see how it affects both of you.”

Neji’s small smile was enough to twist her heart. “Thank you, Dr. Hisano.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, closing the blinds so he could sleep comfortably before slipping out the door and shutting it behind her.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“There’s no improvement?”

“None at all, Itachi. It’s a very tenacious sickness; I’m doing all I can, but without knowing how it works I can’t stop it.”

“Why can’t you find out how it works?”

“I am trying, Itachi. But we must be patient. Neji’s fighting it.”

Itachi sighed, slumping back in the chair a bit. Tsunade saw how tired he looked, as if he were fighting the disease along with Neji. In a way, she thought, he was. “Very well. I’ll trust your judgment.”

“Until you get your own medical degree,” she said acidly, “That’s all you can do.”

Itachi stood. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Hisano.”

He left. Tsunade sat back in her chair, lost in thought.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Digging his car keys out of his jacket pocket, Itachi scowled. He’d come to the hospital every day since Neji had been admitted, asking for his condition. To Itachi’s mind, Neji should have improved drastically when put in the hospital, but instead it almost seemed like he was getting worse. Oh, Dr. Hisano hadn’t come out and said it—she was a master at the doctoral doublespeak—but he’d been able to tell from her body language.

“Hey.”

Itachi looked over and saw the doctor’s pink-haired intern peeking at him around a pillar. Oh great, another fangirl. “I’m gay, and—“

“Neji’s your boyfriend.”

“…you know.”

“Of course I do. I also know that Dr. Hisano always works in her office for an hour after talking to him. And then she goes to the lab, and doesn’t look in on him until after visiting hours.”

“I’m not family,” Itachi said. “And the risk of infection—“

“Is nothing. It’s not airborne. And I can take you to see him.”

Itachi stared at her. Gutsy, intense green eyes stared right back. “You’d break regulations?”

“I like seeing a good love story.” She tossed her hair. “He wants to see you. Whenever I go in and we talk, he always talks about you.”

Itachi felt a twinge of pride that he’d gotten his hands on the attractive man before anyone else. “Then stop talking and show me.”

The girl grabbed his hand and dragged him around the corner from the entrance to the ICU ward and through a different door, which she opened with a key-card. It was a long, dim hallway lined with offices and supply closets. Peeking out, she nodded. “Neji’s room is that one, at the end of the big hallway.” She pointed. “I’m Haruno Sakura, by the way.”

“Uchiha Itachi.”

“I know.”

“…right.”

Sakura darted out into the hallway, Itachi following her lead. They’d timed it just so, and Sakura was able to slip him into the room. Leaving it open a crack, she whispered through to him. “I’ll knock three times on the door when it’s time to leave, two if there’s someone coming that you need to hide from. There’s a closet of drapes in there you can get into.”

“Thank you,” Itachi said sincerely. She shut the door and Itachi turned to his lover, asleep on the bed. For a long time, he could only watch the breathing (he could hear its harshness even more now) and follow the up-and-down movement of Neji’s chest. Then he slowly reached up and took a hand in both of his, being careful of the IV lines that fed into the vein there.

At the touch, Neji stirred, eyes slitting open just a little, enough to look over and see Itachi there. Hurriedly the older man pressed his fingers to his lips.

“How did you get in here?” Neji asked. His hand gripped Itachi’s with all the strength he had, still weaker than anything before he’d fallen ill.

“Dr. Hisano’s intern snuck me in,” he said softly. “She knew I wanted to see you.”

Neji’s eyes, still glazed with fever, followed his every movement as Itachi fought the railing on the side down and sat on the edge of the bed. Twisting his body around, the Uchiha reached out and stroked his lover’s hair back from his forehead.

“You’re still feverish.”

“I feel like shit. Dr. Hisano’s barely telling me anything. Itachi, I feel like I’m dying.”

“Don’t say that,” Itachi snapped. “You will not die.”

Neji swallowed, looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, either.”

“Then what do you want me to say?”

“Just tell me that you’ll fight this.”

Neji’s eyes flashed intense, cutting through the fever. “I’m not going to just give up, Itachi. But…it’s not…Dr. Hisano said she didn’t know what I have. She’s keeping me on the medication as if it was just the flu, but it’s not. She’s worried, and scared.”

Itachi bent over, kissing just under Neji’s ear and breathing in a little of his peculiar scent—something like candles and secrecy, a little sweat from the fever. Clinical smells obscured it. “She’s doing all she can, and she’s all we have. We will have to trust her for now.”

Neji’s hand moved up to play with the long tail of hair the flowed over his shoulder. Itachi could hear the tubes and wires that the Hyuuga was hooked up to tapping together, and turned his head so he could rest it on the pillow next to Neji’s head. “I miss you,” he said softly.

“I know,” Itachi said. His voice was muffled against Neji’s neck and came back too loud to his ears. “Get better, and you can come home.”

There was a long pause. “I’m trying,” Neji said quietly.

They talked for an hour; sometimes they just fell silent, trying to stay as close to each other as they could. At last, three taps on the door signaled that it was time for Itachi to leave. Reluctantly, Itachi pulled out of Neji’s arms and kissed him, rubbing his cheek.

“I’ll try to get Sakura to sneak me in again,” he said, pressing his forehead to Neji’s burning one.

“Don’t get in trouble,” Neji said, scowling. Itachi smiled just a little—if Neji wasn’t sick enough to stop scowling at things, he wouldn’t worry too much about it.

“I’m afraid it’s unavoidable,” the Uchiha said. Neji’s scowl intensified, and he leaned over one last time and pressed his lips to Neji’s forehead, a blessing. “Take care of yourself, Neji. I love you.”

“Hurry,” Sakura whispered from the door. Squeezing Neji’s hand one last time, Itachi left the room. Somehow, he felt worse after leaving than he had before.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Naruto looked around in his history class while they waited for the teacher’s aid to start the lecture. Neji was again conspicuously absent.

“Hey Sakura,” he said slowly. “Neji’s been gone a few days. It’s not like him to miss classes. He must be pretty sick.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Sakura said. She was playing Spider Solitare on her laptop. “Neji’s in the hospital.”

“No shit?” Kiba said, elbowing Naruto out of the way. Naruto and Hinata knocked heads when she whipped around to join the conversation.

“He is?” she asked, her stormcloud-grey eyes wide. “I didn’t know…”

“Yeah, he was admitted over the weekend. Flu, we think,” Sakura said carefully. She wasn’t supposed to talk about it, in case word of a mystery disease started spreading. In a closely-involved community like a college campus, an epidemic could be devastating.

“Neji’s strong,” Naruto said with his usual confident grin. “He’ll fight it off and be back by the end of the week, you’ll see!”

Sakura sighed, opening her note program and beginning to type as the lecture started. She only hoped Naruto was right.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade sat back from the microscope where she’d been examining Neji’s latest blood samples. It didn’t make any sense; how had a perfectly healthy man in his twenties become infected, incubated the virus, and fallen ill? Where were the microorganisms responsible? It was a virus, of that she was certain; but even if the capsid disintegrated after the virus RNA was incorporated into the genetic material of whatever cell it attacked, she should still be seeing pieces of the original virus everywhere.

She leaned forward on her elbows, running her hands through her hair. How could it infect and then just disappear?

Tsunade looked over at her computer. An unsent e-mail was displayed on the screen; her brain and common sense told her to reach over and click SEND, but her resentment and professional wariness stayed her hand.

Haruki Orochimaru had been disgraced in his work some years ago; reports that his experiments and methods were inhumane to the animals he’d been testing the early forms of gene therapy on, and that some of his data was faked, had kicked him from his high esteem in the human genome research community. He was still working on the Human Genome Project, under intense scrutiny, and was doing some work of his own. Some aging gene or other. He’d explained it to her once, but she had already lost her passion for the field and had only listened to him with half an ear. They hadn’t talked outside of the medical field in a few years; she knew that he’d caused a stir of some sort by first going out with a boy who could be his grandson, and again by filing for domestic partnership with said boy.

Sasuke wouldn’t be a boy, now, Tsunade thought absently. He’d be…what, twenty now? Just about. Still, that was young, for a man in his fifties. But Orochimaru had always looked young for his age, and even as he grew older that hadn’t changed. Although what Sasuke saw in him, Tsunade would never know. Obviously, Orochimaru cared for the boy; after Sasuke’s father had refused to pay for his schooling when he found out that the younger Uchiha was dating someone so old, Orochimaru had gallantly taken up the bill and given Sasuke a place to live.

She also recalled that they’d been in the emergency room a couple months ago. Car crash; he’d been in the car with a friend, not realizing said friend was completely hammered. One swerve and a tree later, and he’d been in Tsunade’s care, getting bandaged and sutured back together. He’d healed nicely. Orochimaru had been there, standing unusually unobtrusively off to the side, by his young lover’s head as he hissed in pain before the drugs had taken effect. Tsunade remembered noting the surprising gentleness with which he’d handled Sasuke after that, helping him into the passenger seat and buckling him in, and taking off work to go with him to the appointments after that.

She schooled her wandering thoughts and looked over her e-mail again.

//Orochimaru,

I know it’s been awhile since we really talked last, but I need your help on something. I’ve got a potentially dangerous disease here; viral, but I can’t find the origin in the patient’s blood. No pieces of the capsid, no protein tails, nothing. It’s as if the origin never existed.

I know you focus in genetics, but this is in your area of expertise as well. Let’s talk about it. Get back to me ASAP.

Thanks,

Tsunade//

Holding her breath, she moved the mouse over the SEND button and clicked it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Orochimaru was typing his journal entry for the day’s work when the computer pinged, startling him. He hated this thing, preferring his pages of handwritten logs to it, but some things required a computer to keep organized and this was one of them.

“Kabuto,” he called. A minute later his assistant appeared. “What’s this chime mean?”

“You’ve got an e-mail, Mr. Haruki.” Taking the mouse, the young lab tech clicked on the mail service and it popped up. “It’s from Tsunade Hisano—isn’t that your old friend?”

“It is,” Orochimaru said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t know why she’d send me mail on this infernal machine when she could just call, she knows I hate computers.”

Clicking to open it, Kabuto stepped back as Orochimaru scanned the short message. In that time, his face went from surprise, to suspicion, to incredulity. “She wants to talk to me regarding a case of hers. Some viral disease she wants me to help her identify.”

“Shouldn’t she just send it off to NIH and let them work on it?”

“She doesn’t want to arouse suspicion,” Orochimaru said slowly. His greeny-gold eyes scanned the e-mail again. “I think this is serious. Epidemic, Kabuto.”

He could hear Kabuto’s ears perk up. “And?”

Orochimaru was already dialing.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade’s cell phone rang. It was that biotechnology company up in Santa Clarita; she flicked open the phone. “Hisano Tsunade.”

Tsunade-hime. Pleasure to hear from you again.

“Orochimaru. So you got my e-mail.”

Next time just call. So tell me more about this mystery virus of yours.

Tsunade looked around at the techs around her. “I can’t say here. Can I meet you?”

Of course. You are welcome at my house—all I ask is that you call when you are departing.

“We’ll be there tomorrow, Orochimaru.”

Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you again, Tsunade—but who is this ‘we’?

“My intern…and the boyfriend of the patient. Uchiha Itachi.”

Sasuke will be delighted, I’m sure. I’ll be expecting you, Tsunade.

Click.

0o0o0o0o0o0

“Itachi.”

This is Tsunade.

Itachi sat bolt upright in the bed. “Neji? Is he—“

Stable for the moment. But I’m calling in an old friend of mine to help. We’re going to meet him tomorrow; can you miss classes?

“Of course. Who is it?”

Your brother would know.

“Mr. Haruki? Why?”

I can’t say. I’ll pick you up early. Be ready.

“Very well. Thank you, Ms. Hisano.”

No problem, Itachi.

Click.

---
March 2nd
40 Days after Initial Infection
24 days remaining
---

Tsunade was at the apartment complex at eight in the morning, knocking on Itachi’s door. He answered it, dressed already.

“You ready?” she asked, jingling her keys in her hand. He nodded, and grabbed his backpack. He locked the apartment and they left. Sitting in the car going up the 5 to Santa Clarita, Itachi tried to recall everything he could about Haruki Orochimaru, the geneticist who had caused such a schism in his family.

It had been a blow to Uchiha Fugaku, head of Uchiha Security, that his eldest son had come out as bisexual. So when Sasuke, too, had announced that he favored boys over girls, Fugaku had been beside himself. First he’d denied it (“You aren’t really gay. You just do everything your brother does.”), and then he’d gotten angry (“Ungrateful little shit, if you think I’m going to let you go to college so you can chase ass all across campus, you can think again!”). Finally, he’d seemed to come to terms with it and let his second son start classes at College of the Canyons, but then he’d found out that not only was Sasuke dating a man, he was dating a man older than Fugaku.

Sasuke’s story that Orochimaru had, of course, seconded, was that he’d been on campus filling in a lecture spot for a friend. Sasuke had been in that class, and, apparently, they’d chatted a bit after. Chatting had led into an invitation to dinner, and another, and another…

Itachi had a passing acquaintance with Orochimaru; he’d come to UCLA a few times to give lectures as well, and after he started dating Sasuke, they’d talked at family dinners a few times. He was intelligent, charismatic, handsome, and fit for his age, and when he’d walked into the Uchiha residence with Sasuke under his arm, nobody had said anything further about it. Fugaku still ranted at both his sons for disgracing them and leaving Uchiha Security to go to a cousin, but truth be told, neither of them cared. Both had gone into fields dealing with the law, mollifying their father somewhat, but things were far from being repaired.

Once they reached Santa Clarita, they turned off onto a rural road. Here the houses were spaced far apart, with pastureland between them as they got up higher into the mountains. Finally, Tsunade turned into a long dirt driveway that led between pastures to a large house, nestled in trees. Each pasture had a horse in it—all colors, from a dark blood bay to a dapple grey so light that it was almost white. A chestnut mare nearest the barn had a belly big with pregnancy. The pasture opposite hers was empty, the gate open. A plume of dust was visible behind the house.

Parking in front of the double doors, they all got out of the car. The air was different here, Itachi thought as he shut his door and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Lighter, maybe.

“Nice spread,” Sakura commented. She’d pulled on a sweater. “Dr. Haruki must be well-off.”

“He comes from a wealthy family, and despite his disgrace he still has much standing in the science community,” Tsunade said. “He augments his salary enough to afford a place like this. And to spoil your brother rotten, Itachi--those are Shagya Arabians, if I remember correctly. They’re purebred, going all the way back to the beginning of the breed at the Babolna stud in Hungary.”

Sakura was talking with a gardener, who pointed toward the barn behind the house. The dust plume had reversed in direction. Sakura trotted back over. “They’re at the arena, he says.” Tsunade nodded and followed another dirt road around to the barn.

Looking around, Itachi snorted. Sasuke had kept his fascination with horses since childhood, and Orochimaru had encouraged it. Sasuke often talked about his races to the family—involved in endurance racing or something of the sort. He didn’t know much about horses, but apparently Sasuke and Orochimaru did.

Coming around the side of the house, he saw the arena and also his little brother astride a chestnut horse, cantering around the outside fence. The spikes his hair formed naturally were smashed down under a riding helmet, and when he came around to face them again his expression was one of total concentration. In the middle of the arena, jumps of varying sizes were set up, and as Itachi watched, Sasuke turned in and took the jumps in a specific pattern.

Orochimaru leaned on the fence, watching Sasuke ride. As they got closer, he looked over and nodded in acknowledgement. There was a large, pale yellow snake coiled around his shoulders. “Tsunade-hime,” he said, with a mocking bow. “A pleasure to be in your company again.”

“Stop that,” she said with the absentminded affection that long familiarity with a person’s quirks will have. “We’re here on business.”

“You are. Are they?” He gestured at Itachi and Sakura. “I’ve met Itachi before, but who is this pink-haired beauty?”

“Haruno Sakura,” the intern replied, blushing just a little under the attention. Ever the exhibitionist, Orochimaru took up her hand and kissed it. The snake watched her with beady golden eyes.

“Haruki Orochimaru,” he said, straightening again. “This fine fellow is Garin.” He stroked the head of the snake affectionately, then turned his eyes to Itachi. “And what brings you out here?”

“My boyfriend is sick,” Itachi said carefully. “I was told by Dr. Hisano that you’d be able to help.”

“Were you?” Orochimaru said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s possible. The good doctor will have to inform me about this sickness. Your boyfriend…he’s one of those Hyuugas isn’t he?”

“Neji, yes.”

“I knew his father and uncle. Intelligent family.”

“Very.”

“Orochimaru, we should—“

“Hey, were you watching me?”

Sasuke trotted over on the horse and dismounted fluidly. He’d grown a little since the last time Itachi had seen him, filled out with muscle. His hair had gotten a little longer, and it sprung right up again when he took off the helmet.

“What do you think, is Nenet…” Sasuke trailed off as he saw there were more people there than Orochimaru. His eyes nearly bugged out when he caught sight of Itachi, and with an accusing glare at Orochimaru, he pointed his finger at his older brother. “What’s he doing here?”

“On business,” Orochimaru said lightly, looking over the horse carefully. “Cool her off and put her away, and then come inside.”

“What’s he doing here, Orochimaru?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out if you put Nenet away and come back inside.”

Sasuke huffed and jerked the reins, tugging the mare along with him almost angrily. She picked up on his annoyance and started to prance and toss her head, and Orochimaru sighed.

“I’ll have damage control to do when you leave,” he said lightly, and led the way back up to the house. On the way, Tsunade handed him a copy of her notes on the disease, and Neji’s condition every time she checked on him.

The inside was richly appointed without being too ostentatious. Orochimaru let Garin slither onto a perch in the foyer, carefully positioned to catch the weak March sunlight, and led the way past a staircase to the den, full of comfortable-looking couches and chairs, and with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Scanning the books just around the chair he occupied, Itachi could see everything from fiction novels to scientific journals. A backpack tucked in the corner, and some textbooks next to it, told him this was probably where Sasuke studied.

Orochimaru had seated himself in a chair that looked more like a small couch, and looked at the three of them, golden eyes flicking back to Tsunade. “So. Tell me about this mystery disease that’s got you worked up.”

Tsunade explained all they knew about the disease; that it was blood-borne, that it looked like the flu but produced an extreme lack of energy and induced bloody coughing and vomit. And then she brought up the lack of evidence for it in the bloodstream.

“It’s like what I told you in the e-mail,” she finished. “It’s like the original virus never existed.”

Sasuke came in and sat on the floor next to his lover’s feet, splitting his time between listening and glaring at Itachi, who remained unfazed. This was the first time he’d heard any of this, and he didn’t want to miss anything. Especially not for his idiot brother…but he did note that after he’d heard that Neji was the patient in question, Sasuke had perked up, and stopped his fidgeting.

Orochimaru had been still and silent the whole time, occasionally flipping through Tsunade’s notes to look at something that she’d just mentioned. He seemed impassive, but something about the way his unusual eyes flicked between Tsunade and Itachi, and how he focused intently, told the Uchiha he was listening. When she finished, his hand went absently to Sasuke’s hair, stroking it thoughtfully.

“You want me to develop a vaccine for this disease in less than a month,” he said slowly, “When past efforts on other vaccines have taken years?”

“Yes.”

“Impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible, Orochimaru.”

“This is. I cannot isolate a virus, analyze it, and come up with a vaccine in the time frame you ask. I might be a genius, Tsunade, but I’m not a miracle worker. I’m far from it.”

“Orochimaru, I can’t trust anyone else to help me. Please.”

Sasuke surprised them all, moving to sit on the arm of the chair next to Orochimaru. “You should listen to them,” he said to his lover. “And help Neji.”

“Sasuke, it’s not—“

“Shut up, because it’s not. Unless you lied to me and you’re not a genius, but just damned lucky?”

Orochimaru shot him a withering look. “I will consider it, Tsunade,” he ground out. Sasuke glared right back, crossing his arms. “I’ll have an answer to you by morning.”

“Thank you,” Tsunade said. She stood. “We should get going. I have to check on my patients.”

All smiles, as though nothing had ever happened, Orochimaru showed them out. “Drive safely, Tsunade-hime,” he called. Leaning against the door, Sasuke waved. Tsunade watched in her rearview mirror as he followed the older man back into the house and the door shut.

From the backseat, Itachi asked, “Do you think he’ll help us?”

Tsunade gripped the steering wheel. “I hope so.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sakura snuck Itachi into Neji’s room again. For a while, they were quiet; then Itachi spoke.

“We went to the house of a man who can help us,” he said quietly. Exhausted, burning with fever, all Neji could do was nod. Itachi swallowed.

“He’s a geneticist, a genius. One of Tsunade’s friends. Haruki Orochimaru. He’ll be able to help you get better.” If he agrees, Itachi added in his head.

Weakly, Neji spoke up. “Do they think there’s hope without him?”

Itachi remembered Tsunade’s desperate look that she hadn’t known she wore, and thought about his own reservations. Orochimaru was dangerous, shiftless, and could just as easily carry out some experiment on Neji that would kill him as help him get better.

“They do,” he said flatly. “They think you’ll pull through.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“Well?” Sasuke asked. “What are you going to do?”

Orochimaru paused a moment before pursing his lips and pulling the black silk pants he slept in up all the way. His hair was still in the bouncy ponytail, and as he sat in bed, Sasuke watched that ponytail bob up and down as Orochimaru stalked into the bathroom and disappeared around the corner. The water ran briefly.

“Tsunade’s the doctor, not I,” he said.

“You’ve got a doctorate,” Sasuke replied. “Two, even.”

“I’m a microbiologist-biochemist. I work in genetics, I learn what makes us human and why things are as they are in our bodies. I can’t save lives with these projects yet, and I don’t even know where to start on Tsunade’s mystery disease. And they’re not medical degrees, Sasuke.”

“She hasn’t given you all the information yet, either. You don’t have Neji’s health records.”

“How did you know I wanted those?”

“I overheard you talking to Kabuto.”

Orochimaru leaned back, toothbrush in his mouth, and glared at his lover. Sasuke heard him furiously brushing, and smirked. The older man was thinking about it, he could tell. Finally, Sasuke heard him spit and heard the water running again. If Sasuke closed his eyes, he could run Orochimaru’s entire routine through his head. Undress, brush teeth, wash face…come out and brush hair. But right now he was splashing water on his face, and it was dripping…

Sasuke got a very bad idea at that moment, and smirked. Shifting so that his body was thrown into light and shadow, he pushed the sheet down around his hips, just so. It never, ever failed; and if Sasuke asked at the right moment, in the right way, he would get what he wanted.

Orochimaru picked up his brush and pulled the ponytail out. His dark hair fell past his shoulders, rippled and wavy from being bound up all day. Turning, he kept on brushing but Sasuke saw the change in his expression and stance, watched as those exotic hazel-gold eyes traveled over his body. He caught how Orochimaru’s tongue slipped out of his lips just barely, just the tip wetting them. It was when the scientist wasn’t trying to be overly sexy that Sasuke found him the most attractive.

Putting his brush down, Orochimaru padded across the carpet to the big bed, climbing on and crawling across to lay next to his younger lover, nuzzling into Sasuke’s neck. The very scent of Sasuke was enough to keep him content (for nights when he worked late in the labs, he often took one of Sasuke’s shirts along with him in a Ziploc bag so he could relax), even as his fingers strayed to the other’s belly and began to doodle.

“I don’t see why they couldn’t get a person doing work more closely related to their case,” he argued. “I care nothing for your brother or his lover, and my knowledge of the field of disease research is nothing compared to that of others. I research genetics, not pharmaceuticals.”

“Tsunade came to you for a reason,” Sasuke shot back. “She has to know something we don’t, and she does. You could tell she was holding back information too—that’s why you put on the show of saying it was impossible. And Neji’s a friend of mine. I might hate my brother’s guts, but Neji’s practically family. We came out together—please,” he asked, reaching to stroke a soft, pale cheek. His eyes were endlessly blue-black, searching, and his lower lip trembled just a little. Sasuke could see Orochimaru wavering now, and poured his whole heart into the perception that he was about to cry. Orochimaru hated seeing him cry.

Biting his lip, the older man nodded finally, black hair shifting in the light. “Very well. I’ll call her in the morning and tell her I’ll see what I can do.”

Smiling, Sasuke wrapped his arms around his lover’s shoulders, kissing him and deliberately turning the kiss into a passionate one. His hands kneaded Orochimaru’s back, and the older man shivered in pleasure. When they pulled apart, their cheeks were flushed and their eyes dark.

“Thank you,” Sasuke whispered as Orochimaru leaned over, kissing his neck while reaching for the lubricant on the bedside table.

---
March 3rd
41 days after Initial Infection
23 days remaining
---

“Hisano Tsunade.”

I’ll take your case. But I want to you divulge all pertinent information—I can’t do my job if I don’t know everything you know. I want access to the patient, access to your laboratory, and anything else I think will help me in developing a vaccine for the patient.

Heaving a silent sigh of relief, Tsunade smiled at the sample on the microscope. “Thank you, Orochimaru.”

Don’t thank me yet, Tsunade. Say that when you move the patient out of ICU.

“Pragmatic as always.”

Practicality has always been my strong point. I am sending my assistant to collect copies of everything related to this case; he should be there in about half an hour. I will be in contact—and try not to send me any more e-mails.

Click.

---
Blog Entry: say we stand for nothing? Think again
Posted by: in_sight
2:34 PM 2006-3-3
---

What gets me the most sometimes, folks, is that some people don’t get out there and vote. We can’t change our country’s leadership if we never want to take a risk and have our opinion not count. We are a country of sheep now, blindly taking in anything we hear through the news without thinking about it. Just ‘cause the news says it doesn’t mean we have to take it as fact, you know? Some Greek guy who died a long time ago said “It’s the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.” Lemme tell you, whoever said that, he was a smart, smart man.

And if you’re afraid that your party will fail, that it’s not possible for it to win—like that convict who ran for prez a few years back now—you should still vote for ‘em. In politics as far as I’m concerned it’s the less evil person that you pick, and your vote for the little guy takes away from the bigger evils.

So like, get out and vote, stupid people who don’t vote. But don’t ever write “in_sight” on that little line for president. I couldn’t do it even if I were elected.

---
March 8th
46 Days since Initial Infection
18 Days remaining
---
Itachi scowled down at the case study in front of him. All the highlighted parts, all the little notes that he’d written to himself had made sense when he’d gone over it in discussion section, but now they were totally incomprehensible to him. This lack of concentration was unnerving, considering that this semester was his second-to-last, and if he didn’t pass his classes now he wouldn’t be eligible to graduate, and he’d have to stay on another semester and delay taking the Bar exam. And his father would be pissed.

Running his hands through his hair, Itachi went back over his conversation with his father last Saturday.

“Focus on your own schoolwork,” Fugaku had said gruffly. “You can’t keep up this little fling with the Hyuuga kid any more if he’s affecting you negatively. It is not conducive to your future prospects.”

“It’s not a fling, Father,” Itachi had snapped. His patience with his family had worn thin over the years, and now it was close to breaking. “I wouldn’t call a three-year relationship a fling.”

“He’s a Hyuuga, and a rich brat,” Fugaku had replied. “He’ll dump you for some up-and-coming star and you’ll never see him again except for in gossip mags. Find a nice girl, Itachi. Get out of law school, pass your exam, get a job at a well-known firm, and get your life back.”

“I’ve got a life—you just fail to see it, old man,” Itachi shot back. “It’s out of your understanding, so you do all you can to block it out. That kind of avoidance and escapism isn’t going to work with me.”

“Watch your mouth, son,” his father had said icily. “Don’t forget who pays your bills.”

Shaking his head a little, Itachi sat back on the couch and wearily went over the study again. There was a test on this at the end of the week, and he had a grade to maintain. It was hard to keep his mind on things, however, when it was continually wandering off to various places—notably, to a room in LA Memorial, with a single occupant.

Was it worth his schoolwork to keep up a relationship with a dying man? He hadn’t known anything until Tsunade had told Orochimaru the details. He hadn’t known how bad it really was until then, and even the baleful glares of his kid brother couldn’t distract him from the grim picture that Dr. Hisano painted for them. By her calculations, Neji had a little less than three weeks left to live, but once they entered the final week any chances of a vaccine working were slim at best. It would be painful, she’d said, in her clinical doctor’s voice. Painful for Neji and anyone around him.

The Hyuuga family had come to stay in LA, in a fine hotel near the hospital. They had already been to see him, and had called Itachi and given him an update. Neji had vomited twice while they were there. Bloody, they’d said. And his coughing was deeper and worse than before. For the first time in his life, Itachi had felt utterly helpless, and he hated it.

Maybe Father’s right, he thought.

Do you really want the old fool to win? Another part of Itachi cut in. Do you want to give in to his demands and prove him right?

Scrubbing his face, Itachi put his work aside and picked up his car keys. It was time to go check in with Tsunade.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Orochimaru’s routine had changed, Sasuke noted.

Since he’d gotten all the material he needed to start work on a vaccine, or at least figure out how the virus worked, Orochimaru had been at the labs from sunrise to well past nine at night. Last night, he hadn’t come back until after Sasuke had drifted off to sleep already, curled up alone in their bed. He’d woken briefly when the scientist had slid in next to him, reaching out with a chilly, disinfected hand to touch Sasuke’s arm. When Sasuke had woken up that morning, Orochimaru was already gone.

This project would make or break his career, Sasuke thought to himself. Staring into the fries he’d gotten from the In N’ Out near the police academy, the younger Uchiha wondered how much longer it would be, or if Orochimaru could beat this case at all.

Of course he will, Sasuke growled at himself. Genius, remember?

But then again…there were geniuses, and there were smart people, and whether or not Orochimaru had the capability to not only recall facts but reason them out and come to a conclusion was up for debate. All his research was geared toward this, but it could just as easily be the second author on all the older man’s papers that had come up with the actual theories. Yakushi Kabuto was a smart, dangerous man. Smart enough to think of these things on his own and give them to his boss to test out. That way his theories got publicity from the very well-known name of Haruki Orochimaru, he got recognition as Second Author: Yakushi Kabuto, and the science community went nuts over it.

Sasuke’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out—BioCon Systems, it read on the little front screen, and he flipped the phone open. “Hello?”

Afternoon, Sasuke. Just wanted to check up on you.

“Afternoon, ‘rochi. I’m eating lunch right now.”

Me too. Oh, Sasuke—I’ll be working late again tonight. I’ll try not to the rest of this week, but…

Sasuke had gotten his hopes up that they’d have a normal evening together, but just as quickly as they’d risen they were gone again. “Okay. I understand.”

Thanks, Sasu. Enjoy the rest of your day. Love you.

“You too, Oro. I will.”

Goodbye.

“Bye.”

Click.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“You lied to both of us.”

“I didn’t lie to either of you. I simply don’t want Neji to get worked up—“

“That’s why you say I can’t visit him. What do you think I’m going to do, give him head?”

“Itachi, that isn’t necessary. Don’t be childish—I know you wouldn’t give head to your sick lover here, but I’m still not going to let you see him.”

“Why not? You said it was blood-borne? I’m not going to smear his blood all over myself and hope that I get sick, either. I see no logical point in keeping me from visiting him, other than I’m not family, but you should know that gay couples don’t have as many rights as straight ones anyway—“

“Itachi—“

“Don’t try to comfort me. You wouldn’t trust me with the truth, and then you took me along and told Dr. Haruki in front of me. Dr. Hisano, aren’t you under oath to tell your patients exactly what’s wrong with them?”

“What makes you think I didn’t tell Neji and ask him not to tell you?” Tsunade snapped back at him. “He loves you, but he respects authority. If I asked him not to tell you, he would trust me because I am a doctor. This is precisely the reason I don’t want you to know, either. I didn’t have a choice when I brought you along to ask Orochimaru for help—but I should have expected you to do this. But for Chrissakes, Itachi, I’m trying to save his life. Don’t come in here and accuse me of—“

The alarms went off, blue and red lights flashing. A string of colorful curses on her lips, Tsunade grabbed her coat and ran down the hall, pulling on a pair of gloves as she ran. Somehow, she’d known that it would be Neji.

“What’s going on?” she yelled, over the cluster of nurses surrounding his bed. She knew Itachi would be outside watching, and she didn’t care. Her patient demanded attention.

Neji was scrabbling at his throat, eyes wide with fear and panic. His nails left long red marks across pale skin. “His lungs are full of fluid,” one of the nurses said. “He’s choking!”

“Suction!” Tsunade ordered, and the nurse reached over to the wall and plugged a long plastic tube into the wall, tossing the end with a mask over to Tsunade. She fitted it over his mouth and the nurse flipped the switch. Mucusy, vaguely pink fluid was sucked up the tube and disappeared, but it stimulated Neji’s gag reflex and he vomited. Bright blood filled the inside of the mask.

Swearing again, Tsunade shoved it back at the nurse to clean out and reached into his mouth, pulling out his tongue so he wouldn’t swallow it. Blood coated her gloves and stained her coat as she worked to clean out Neji’s airway. At last the suction came back and she fitted it to him again, sucking out more fluid until he started convulsing with coughs and tried to jerk away.

“He’s clear,” Tsunade said. The nurses who had been holding him down slowly backed away; Sakura left to get a new set of sheets and things to clean Neji up with, and a new hospital gown for him, and as she was at the door Tsunade asked her to quietly get some sedatives as well.

She caught Itachi’s eyes through the glass and raised an eyebrow as she started her normal procedures, taking his heart rate (slowly coming down from the panic of choking), his blood pressure (elevated), temperature (climbing back up; he’d need another dose of the medication for that), and everything else she could think of. Sakura brought everything back and she hung the little plastic bag of sedative and ran a thin plastic tube from it, fitting a needle to the end. Neji glared hazily at her.

“More drugs?” he asked disdainfully.

“Yes, she said, making sure the needle was connected right. His eyes drifted around, settling at last on Itachi, standing outside the window. Tsunade caught the look in his eye and sighed, capping the needle.

“Sakura, help him out of the bed so we can change the sheets, and put him in a chair over there—and let Itachi in,” she said waspishly. With a strange grin on her face, Sakura did as asked, and gave Itachi a pair of gloves to put on and a smock. The blue paperlike material crunched between them when he knelt so Neji could more easily return his tight hug. Neji was weak, and thin too; he’d dropped almost eight pounds over the course of his hospital stay, and Itachi could feel his ribs beginning to poke out.

“I apologize,” Neji said. They talked quietly so Tsunade wouldn’t hear them. She did anyway, but said nothing. His lips were still red from the blood in his vomit, and they looked out of place on his colorless face.

“For all that?” Itachi asked. He hated having to wear the gloves, but he could still feel the unnatural warmth of Neji’s body. “You are ill. It’s to be expected.”

The Hyuuga leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I heard about your visit with your father over the weekend,” he said. “Itachi, I don’t—“

“Who told you?”

“Sasuke. We’ve been talking a lot lately—Dr. Haruki’s been very busy lately, working on a vaccine. Sasuke’s lonely.”

Maybe this’ll teach the little snot some compassion, Itachi thought, but kept that to himself. Neji and Sasuke were close. “Father must have called him up. Sasuke doesn’t go home except for holidays anymore.”

“Itachi, I don’t want to hold you back. I am a hindrance to your career—your future. In our families weakness is unacceptable. I—“

“Shut up, Neji. Father just hates having two gay sons. He’ll do any dirty, underhanded trick to help out his own position and his own company.”

“But—“

“I thought Hyuugas were supposed to be proud when facing adversity.”

“We are—“

“You’re not weak. Anyone else would have given up by now. Don’t prove me wrong, Neji.”

Sakura put a hand on his shoulder. “Dr. Hisano says it’s time for you to go now,” she said. Itachi leaned up and kissed Neji’s cheek, fingers brushing over the Hyuuga’s face. Neji looked at him, and the Uchiha was secretly pleased to see some of the fight back in his lover’s grey eyes.

“Love you, Neji,” he whispered.

“Love you too.”

“Hurry up and get better.”

“I will.”

Sakura pushed him out of the room and shut the door. Itachi watched as they moved him back into the bed. Tsunade slid the needle into his arm, and left with Sakura in tow; she let Itachi stay, watching as the sedative slowly took effect and Neji’s eyes closed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Naruto was doing homework in his room when his cell phone went off, playing some loud and tinny rap song and lighting up. Checking the display, Naruto grinned.

“Hey, Sasuke! What’s up?”

Nothing much. How you been, dumbass?

“Fine.”

Still a business major?

“Fuck yeah. Declared a poli-sci minor, too.”

Sure you can take it? You are blond, Naruto.

“Hey!” Even though he was alone, Naruto screwed up his face at the picture of himself and Sasuke and Sakura—they were fourteen, all three, and Mr. Hatake was standing behind them. It’d been at Homecoming that year; everyone’s faces were bright and shiny with grease, makeup, glitter or happiness, or some combination of them. He sometimes missed that closeness they’d all had. This kind of good-natured teasing made him feel close to his friends again.

It’s true, idiot.

“I’m not an idiot!”

Whatever, Naruto.

“Aren’t you busy with something anyway? Horses, or police stuff, or something? What about your creepy boyfriend?”

…Orochimaru’s at the labs again.

Something in Sasuke’s voice made Naruto stop dicking around on the computer and listen. “Something wrong?”

He’s just busy. He said he’d be late tonight but he’d try to get home on time the rest of the week.

“You sure you’re all right, Sasuke?”

Yeah, I’m fine. Just lonely.

“I’m not busy, let’s talk!”

…Naruto?

“What?”

…nothing. So, how are classes?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade checked in on Neji one last time before she left at about 11 PM. Walking into the room with the lights still dimmed so he could sleep, she called, “Neji?”

There was no answer. He was probably still out from the medication and the stress of his attack. She pulled the blanket on the bed up to his shoulders and smoothed it. His brow wrinkled for a moment before he stilled again, breathing as steady as it would get at this point in the progression of the disease.

“Sleep well,” Tsunade whispered as she left.
---
March 9th
47 Days since Initial Infection
17 Days remaining
---
“Sakura, comon. Tell us what’s wrong with Neji. Please?”

“I can’t, Naruto,” Sakura said, exasperated. Unfazed, the blond turned to his girlfriend.

“Hinata?”

“I-I can’t, Naruto,” she said. “Father told me not to tell anyone. Dr. Hisano didn’t want me knowing anyway.”

“You guys,” he whined. “Neji’s my friend too!”

“We know, but…Naruto, we can’t tell you.”

Naruto scowled at them. “We’re friends. We aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other.”

“Naruto, there are some things you just aren’t going to know.”

“But we gotta help—“

Sakura lost it. “We can’t help him, okay?” she yelled. “Not me, not Dr. Hisano, not Dr. Haruki—“

“What’s Sasuke’s boyfriend got to do with this?”

“None of us can help him Naruto, unless Dr. Haruki’s successful, and he’s untrustworthy, a real snake, and nothing any of us do otherwise will be able to save him, okay? Neji’s dying, and there’s fuck-all any of us can do about it!”

They all stared at her. Naruto, Hinata, Kiba—everyone stared at her in stunned silence while the news sunk in. Then, one by one, their faces all became determined.

“What does he need?” Kiba asked. “I know a doctor who specializes in rare diseases.”

“My family’s going to help fund Dr. Haruki’s research,” Hinata said softly.

“I can’t give money or anything, but I’m really good at making people laugh!” Naruto said. “I bet he’s all depressed, locked up in a smelly old hospital! That’s what’s makin’ him sick!”

Sakura looked around at them, exasperated. “You guys don’t understand,” she hissed. “It’s too easy for this to get out of control…”

She trailed off when she felt someone put a hand on her back. Turning her head, she saw Itachi standing behind her, expression unreadable as always. He was wearing a business suit and carrying a leather case. She remembered Neji had told her once that he did grunt work for a local firm, and that they were thinking of hiring him once he passed the Bar exam.

“I…thank you all for your concern,” he said slowly. “However, at this time your offers are not necessary. We are doing all we can to help Neji get better soon; two geniuses are working on it. I’m sure between the two of them, there will be a result before it’s—before it needs to go to someone else.”

They had all heard what he’d carefully avoided. Before it’s too late.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade looked in on Neji when she came back to the hospital the next afternoon. The sedative drip had been removed—he was napping, she thought as she took his vitals. Then she realized something…

“Neji,” she called, shaking his shoulder. He didn’t wake up. Anxiously she checked the monitors again—he should wake up, they were resting rates—a little on the low side, but…

“No,” she breathed, grabbing both shoulders and shaking him harder. “Neji, wake up!”

He didn’t respond.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi gripped the railing hard, looking down at his unconscious lover. When he spoke to Sakura, his voice was overly steady, as though he was trying very hard not to let it shake. “Comatose?” he asked bluntly.

Sakura shook her head. “He’s just sleeping. But he won’t wake up.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t know.”

Itachi sighed irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know too little about this disease.”

“It’s probably best you leave now. He can’t hear you or talk to you or if he can he doesn’t let on with it.”

“You’re probably right,” Itachi replied. Leaning over Neji, he left a kiss on unresponsive lips and left the room, creeping back to the dim hallway they always came in and left by. Sakura joined him in a minute, but instead of leading the way down to the door and opening it again with her keycard, she looked up at him with a strange expression on her face, one that he couldn’t read.

“What is it, Miss Haruno?”

She bit her lip, played with her dyed-pink hair. If he hadn’t been with Neji, Itachi would have thought her attractive—sexy in an innocent way, even, but he never would have asked her out on a date. She was friends with the loud blond friend of his brother’s, who Itachi detested. So when Sakura stood up on tiptoe, grasped his shoulders and kissed him, Itachi was completely blindsided.

Pushing her off him, he stared at her incredulously. “What are you doing?”

“I had to,” she blushed. And then she kissed him again. Her lips were so, so much like Neji’s—soft and yielding, but well-shaped and strong. She took his lack of negative response as a positive response, and pressed harder, trying to pull feeling from him.

Finally, though, he brought his hands up to her shoulders again and pushed her off and away. His eyes were hard and glaring when she met them.

“Don’t do that again,” he said quietly. She nodded, opened the door for him, and he left.

In the car he put his head in his hands and held back a scream.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Orochimaru sat back from the microscope, thinking. He’d scanned every blood sample ever taken from Hyuuga Neji, and saw no trace of anything that could possibly be thought of as a contagion. Not as many white blood cells as he’d like to see, but Tsunade’s theories involved immunity suppression, and that made up for it. But it was frustrating to know that something was going on and not see the thing that caused it.

Genetics was truly Orochimaru’s strength. In genetic research, everything had a cause that could be seen and deciphered—baldness had one gene, height another, even dispositions for certain diseases like cancer were thought to be genetic. Slowly, humankind was discovering itself. When it did, it would know precisely how to manipulate itself to become perfect. And that was something Orochimaru coveted; perfection was his goal, and he demanded it of any tech that worked under him. Kabuto was the only one who completely satisfied his obsession with it, but the other techs under him were close to perfect.

And of course, there was Sasuke; beautiful, talented, intelligent, perfect Sasuke.

Turning away from the scope for now to give his tired eyes a rest, Orochimaru pulled Neji’s health records toward him to go over again, looking for something that he might have missed. As he did so, he glanced at the clock. It was well past nine at night; Sasuke would have already been in bed, probably watched something on the television for a bit, read something, and was probably just turning out the light. The boy followed such a predictable pattern. Scrubbing his face with one hand, the geneticist leaned forward and read over the last four months of Neji’s records again.

Things had been pretty quiet until about a month and a half or so ago—Neji had been skiing with Itachi and his family in the mountains when he’d hit a turn in the stunt course too fast on icy snow and freshly waxed skis. He’d struck his head on the edge of a metal pole used for grinding by the snowboarders, and suffered a concussion and blood loss. He’d been airlifted to the nearest hospital, where they’d given him a transfusion and stitched him up. He’d gone in once more so they could remove the sutures, a little less than four weeks ago.

He’d have already been sick, Orochimaru thought. He just wouldn’t have known it. But how?

He puzzled over this for almost half an hour more, until it was after midnight and Kabuto had already left. Shutting down the lab, he put all the blood samples and the slides he’d made in the freezer and locked up carefully. It was important to be careful about these things.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi finally put aside his books and closed his laptop after firing off an e-mail to his father about how he was doing. To piss him off, Itachi put in a paragraph about Neji’s condition. Storing everything away in his backpack so he could sleep as long as he could the next morning and grab everything and go, the Uchiha padded into the bedroom and stripped to the waist.

The bed felt empty without Neji there to help fill it. They’d picked it out together when they were furnishing the apartment. It wasn’t huge, but it fit them both comfortably. The blankets smelled faintly of his lover, and on his back, Itachi reached over and touched Neji’s empty pillow. Then without a word or a crack in his mask of indifference, he rolled onto his side and fell asleep.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Stifling a yawn, Sakura picked up her bag from Dr. Hisano’s office. The older lady was typing up the day’s reports on her computer, face tired and strained.

“I’m going home,” she said. Dr. Hisano nodded.

“Okay, drive safely.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and Sakura?”

“Yes, Dr. Hisano?”

“From now on, just let Itachi in through the front door.”

A pause. Then: “I understand, Dr. Hisano.”

As she left, Tsunade smiled.

---
Blog Entry: Entropy
Posted by: in_sight
12:34 PM, 2006-9-3

I read about this great theory in Science magazine today (shaddup, I read it ‘cause my buddy’s a mad scientist, like I said, and I like to see what he’s up to every now and again ‘cause he tells me nothing) called entropy. It’s the decay of stuff, right? Well, get this—some shit can’t happen without other shit happening first, that’s what the second law of thermodynamics says about entropy. ‘Spontaneous changes’ they’re called, occur with an increase in entropy—kinda like ice melting.

This is great. This totally fucks with all the nihilists out there. “God is dead”, shit.

Kids, you can’t go through life like a frozen ice cube on Antarctica’s ass. You have to be willing to melt a little in order to experience some spontaneous changes.

Either that, or get really shitfaced. Both of them work.

---
March 10th
48 days since initial infection
16 days remaining
---
Orochimaru slid into bed with a grateful sigh around one in the morning. His body ached, vision slightly blurry as he set his alarm for six-thirty. Five and a half hours to rest. He’d have to be more careful.

I’m too old for this, he thought.

Next to him, Sasuke stirred, mumbled something incoherent, and stilled again. Looking over, Orochimaru allowed himself a small, private smile and moved over more, putting an arm over Sasuke’s abdomen and stroking his hand. Here was another thing he was grateful for.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Surprisingly, Sasuke got up with him that morning. Sometimes, if time allowed it, they would pull the covers over their heads and have sex; it seemed their libidos were always awake long before they were, but they never complained. Lately, though, Orochimaru had simply taken a shower and dressed in silence while trying not to disturb Sasuke, and left before he ever woke up. Some part of himself missed those early morning times and the calm balance he drew from it, but Sasuke had talked him into this project, and if the kid didn’t like it anymore, well, he’d just have to live with it. Orochimaru still had a sense of honor, even if it went no farther than his own skin.

Sasuke was sullen this morning, eating in silence with angry eyes glaring over every few minutes. Finally Orochimaru put his fork down and looked over. “Is it our anniversary?”

“No.”

“Your birthday?”

“No.”

“A day I promised I’d take off?”

“No.”

“Why are you so out of sorts then?”

“Riverside.”

“What?”

“You don’t even remember,” Sasuke growled, shoving his chair back and picking up his plate and cup. As he was rinsing them off in the sink, Orochimaru tried to think of something, anything that would connect ‘something he was supposed to do’ to ‘Sasuke’ and ‘Riverside’. Luckily, Sasuke helped him out. “The long race I wanted to take Nenet on. The 50-mile one with the $10,000 purse. Entries are due tomorrow and we haven’t even gotten anything together at all. We haven’t trained or looked over the course on a map, or even cleaned her tack once.”

“Calm down. If it’s a form I can fill it out at the lab and fax it over.”

“They want it mailed in, Orochimaru.” Sasuke put his things in the dishwasher and kicked it shut. “And there’s no way you can get vet approval and all the other associated things to them by tomorrow. So I’m out of the race already.”

“I’m sorry, Sasuke, but I’m sure there are other races we can enter in—“

“Not until May, unless we go somewhere else entirely. Weather’ll get too bad. Thanks for nothing.” Sasuke leaned against the counter, sparks all but flying from his eyes. “It’s this stupid vaccine. I never should have talked you into it.”

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it, to help your friend? It would help me—us, too—think about it, Sasuke! This could bring my career back on track! It could erase that whole business with the gene therapy and NIH and—“

“Shut up,” Sasuke snapped. “Just shut up. It’s not any of that, Orochimaru, you don’t want to help anyone. Rebuilding your name isn’t just a goal, it’s a fucking obsession.”

“Sasuke, we can talk—“

“No, we don’t anymore. Because you never get back from the lab until I’m too asleep to argue with you.”

“Wait—“

“No. I’ve done enough of that.” Sasuke pushed off of the counter. “I fucking hope you know what you’re doing, Orochimaru. Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose.” He left the room.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi couldn’t concentrate on the test. He’d studied for it, gone to the discussion sections, he understood; but it didn’t click in his mind like it always had. He left the room after handing it in covered in a chilly sweat and called into the firm, told them he didn’t feel well, and went to see Neji.

It would be awkward with Sakura today. She knew he preferred men, that he was dating one of her patients even, and she’d still kissed him.

But he hadn’t stopped it immediately. He’d even liked it a little.

His mind rationalized it for him, as it rationalized every other aspect of his daily life. He was in need of comfort because of Neji’s illness, and that was the only reason he’d delayed pushing her off him.

Satisfied with that, Itachi set himself and walked into the waiting room. But instead of Sakura meeting him, Tsunade leaned against the door around the corner, wearing the most devilish grin he’d seen on her yet.

“You can walk in through the same doors as everyone else,” she said with a grin.

Itachi stared. “…how did you know?”

“Do you think I don’t know everything that goes on in my ward?” she asked with a chuckle. “I might be old, but you two can’t put one over on me yet. I knew about it from the beginning. And don’t scowl at me, Mr. Uchiha. When you get to be my age, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

Following her back around the corner and through the double doors, Itachi sat next to the bed while Tsunade took Neji’s vitals as she always did. The Hyuuga had woken up when they came in, but his eyes were glazed and unseeing. Itachi leaned over close and took his hand, looking at him.

“Neji, I know you’re in there,” he called. His voice was low and even, and Tsunade found herself listening despite her need to get to her other patients.

Slowly, as though it was surfacing from a great depth, awareness crept over Neji’s face, and he turned his head slightly. “Ita…?”

“Good morning, Neji.”

“I was asleep…?”

“Yes. We were worried.”

“Oh.” Neji closed his eyes again. There were big, dark circles under his eyes. Itachi touched them with a finger.

“Neji, don’t go to sleep,” he murmured. Slowly, the other’s eyes cracked open again.

“I was…thinking,” the younger man said. “Thinking about my sickness.”

“You should think about getting better, young man,” Tsunade said from across the room.

“I was thinking,” Neji continued with a bit more strength. “And I found…blood. That’s how it moves.”

“We know that,” Tsunade said. She affected indifference, but her mind had perked up. “What else?”

“Blood…that’s all I could think of,” Neji said. His hand strayed to the scar at his hairline, where he’d struck his head a couple months ago. It was a nervous gesture he’d picked up rather quickly. “So much blood…”

Tsunade looked thoughtful, eyes moving between Neji’s bloodless lips and the hand rubbing the half-moon scar. It cut some scalp veins…he would have bled a lot. Not spurting like if an artery had been cut, but…

“Itachi, I think we should go and let Neji rest.”

“I’m rested. I just feel so weak…”

“You need to sleep to regain your strength,” Itachi said quietly. “Go back to sleep, Neji.”

Obediently, Neji closed his eyes and was asleep before they left the room. Outside, Tsunade looked over at the Uchiha walking next to her.

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your voice. I’ve never heard anything like that before.”

“Oh. I taught myself. There are ways of making people respond to your voice in different ways. I thought it would be useful.”

Tsunade shook her head, and pushed him through the swinging doors. Once back in her office, she pulled Neji’s file out again and flipped through it to the details of the treatment the hospital near the ski resort had given Neji.

“Airlifted...the usual mishmash of fluids…” she mumbled. Finally she found what she was looking for, and picked up her cell phone, dialing BioCon.

BioCon, how may I direct your call?

“Dr. Haruki, please.”

One moment.

Annoying elevator music played. Tsunade tapped her fingers on her desk, getting ready to hang up and just harass him on his cell phone or send an e-mail, when the familiar raspy voice picked up.

This is Dr. Haruki.

“It’s Tsunade. Orochimaru, I want you to look at Neji’s health records.”

I have looked at them at least three times today already. You seem to have a direction; what am I looking for?

“The ski accident.”

The shifting of papers. What about it?

“The edge of the pipe sliced open his scalp down to the skull, leaving him with a half-moon shaped scar. It didn’t hit a major artery—at the point it struck, the artery from the heart was covered. But it did bleed quite a bit before they managed to get it shut, and they ended up giving him a transfusion.”

Isn’t that standard procedure?

“They gave him a blood transfusion, Orochimaru.”

A pause. That would mean that the person who donated the blood got sick as well.

“We can track him at the hospital. Orochimaru, answer this question for me—the transfusion might be from the outside, but how did they manage to not transfer the bits of the original contagion as well?”

Another, longer pause. …I don’t know. His voice was grudging. Orochimaru hated not knowing something. There’s a possibility of outside contamination on the pipe when he struck it.

“Given that this thing is blood-borne, I’d doubt that.”

Then I don’t know. Viruses don’t magically appear in the blood.

“Work on that one.”

Thanks, Tsunade. His feathers were ruffled now, she could tell. He’d had that sulky tone for the same thing ever since they were shunted off to the kiddie table at family dinners.

“Don’t mention it, Roachy,” she said sweetly. He huffed into the phone.

Don’t call me that. Orochimaru, Dr. Haruki, or nothing.

“Yeah, yeah. Get to work.”

Click.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Naruto was a very safe driver, especially with his girlfriend in the car when they were driving to meet her family at the hospital. He just drove a little fast, that was all—at least, that’s what Hinata convinced herself of, as Naruto tore down the freeway at excessive speeds with the music blasting. But she knew he’d never hurt her. He could be reckless, brash, and oblivious, but those were his most endearing qualities. Still…

“N-Naruto?” she said, fingers unconsciously tightening on the seat. “Do you think you should slow down a little?”

“Huh?” he yelled over the music.

“I think you should slow down—oh, the exit’s right there!” Hinata shut her eyes as Naruto darted across lanes of traffic and finally put the brake on as they went up the offramp.

“There it is, right up there!” Naruto zoomed through a yellow light and turned into the hospital parking lot. She could easily see the cars her family used here; big black Escalades. Naruto parked next to them and the two of them got out. He locked the doors, and as they walked Hinata took his hand. Her family didn’t care much for Naruto, but Hinata had finally put her foot down about it and they’d relented. She was still the precious daughter of the family, and she’d always have more leeway no matter how strict her father was.

Hiashi was waiting for them out in the waiting room, Hinata’s younger sister Hanabi at his side. It was like seeing a smaller, female clone of Hinata’s father; the older sister must have taken after her mother. Hiashi’s scowl deepened when he saw Naruto was with her, but he said nothing. Behind him, Itachi was talking quietly with Tsunade.

The afternoon wore on, and it was nearly four when they finally got to go in and visit. Neji was awake but tiring. He smiled at Naruto’s loud demands that he get back to classes so he could help Naruto study.

“I’m afraid I’m too far behind now, Naruto,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I would be much help to you.”

“You’re way smarter than any of the rest of us, even Sakura! I bet you could catch up in one night!”

Hinata giggled. “We miss you, Neji.”

Her cousin’s face slowly became more serious. “I miss all of you. I dislike this hospital…but I’m too weak to do anything. Useless.”

“Are not. You’re just sick! Sick people go to hospitals to get better!”

“Don’t yell at my patient, Naruto,” Tsunade snapped. She started pushing him out. “It’ll upset him.”

Hinata leaned forward, clasping her cousin’s hand and kissing his cheek as Naruto argued with Tsunade at the top of his lungs. “I think it’s time for us to go, Neji. Please get better soon.”

“I will, Hinata. Take care of yourself.”

“Naruto, stop making so much noise!”

“Get your hands off me, grandma doctor! I’ll see you later, Neji, get better quickly!”

Neji smiled at the blond as he resettled back against the pillows and closed his eyes to sleep. It was so easy to get to sleep these days, he thought foggily, and then he was gone.

---
March 11th
49 days since initial infection
15 days remaining
---

Sasuke brushed Katoka in the barn. She stood quietly, even though he’d been brushing her for at least the last hour, going over and over her coat until she shone like a new copper penny. Her belly was huge, although she wasn’t due to foal for a few more months, and out of habit he pressed near her flank and could feel the hardness of the foal inside. Katoka looked back at him curiously, and he smiled absently, stroking her neck.

“You’re doing fine,” he muttered. “Won’t be long now, will it?” He unclipped her from the cross-ties and led her back to her big box stall, fed her and checked her water, and then set about cleaning the stalls for the other horses. He’d found that working up a sweat helped clear his mind, but at the same time, he remembered that he and Orochimaru had chosen the horses together. Fuck, they’d done everything together.

Finished with the stalls, he went out to bring the horses in; Anwar first, snorting and tossing his head around like an idiot, as always, then Nenet. His anger bubbled back up at the thought that he wouldn’t be able to take her on the race he’d wanted and that Orochimaru had forgotten. And that brought up his frustration with how things had been for the last week, that he took second priority to things he couldn’t even see. That Orochimaru would be at the labs late again tonight, and that he’d be gone again before Sasuke got up in the morning. And he wouldn’t just be working, he’d be avoiding his partner like he had since their fight yesterday, and after all the shit both of them had gone through with his family when they started dating, and then again when they applied for domestic partnership, Sasuke didn’t want to think that all that could be a waste of effort. He hated wasting his breath convincing people only to find out he was wrong anyway.

Suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore. Leaning against a stack of straw bales, the young Uchiha rubbed his face. He could understand wanting to help someone—but Orochimaru wasn’t doing that. Sasuke doubted he cared whether or not Neji lived or died, while Sasuke had nightmares about it nearly every night now. All the scientist cared about was getting his fucking reputation back and getting recognition. Every time Sasuke had gone with him to the parties that all the science heads got together at, he always felt more than a little inadequate; an athlete in a room of nerds.

Slowly a plan formed in his mind, and he made his way back up to the house after making sure that all the horses had enough food and water. Calling their neighbor first to ask him to come over and make sure they were taken care of, Sasuke threw what he’d need into a bag and dialed another number.

“Come on, pick up,” he muttered, grabbing an extra shirt and stuffing it in.

Hello?

“Naruto—great, you answered. Where are you?”

Eatin’ lunch with some friends. Why?

“Naruto, um…don’t know how big your dorm room is, but would you mind if I stayed with you for a few days?”

What happened, Sasuke?

“Don’t want to talk about it. I just have to get outta here.”

We told you Orochimaru was bad news—

“Shut it, dumbass. Can I?”

Of course. Do you need me to come get you?

“No, I’ll drive. Thanks, Naruto.”

No problem, stupid!

“I’m not—“

Yeah, yeah. Be careful, Sasuke.

Sasuke hung up and zipped his laptop into its case, stuffing his phone charger in with the power cord. Grabbing his car keys off the dresser he went outside again and locked the house. Maybe he’d come back in a few days—maybe he just needed to get away and cool off. Throwing his stuff in the passenger seat, Sasuke started the car and roared out onto the road.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi was about to leave the ward after his visit that day when Sakura found him and grabbed his arm. “So I’m going to get the cold shoulder?”

Looking over at her, he pointedly removed her fingers from his arm and kept walking down the hall. He had to get back to the office; he’d found some sources in the school library that he knew the lawyers working on the case didn’t have. And he didn’t want to deal with her again.

“Itachi.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you even going to look at me?”

“Why should I?”

Sakura snorted. “Maybe because I kissed you? I don’t go around kissing whoever walks past.”

“I’m taken.”

“I’m not going to be brushed off again.” Sakura ran to block his way, arms crossed and eyes defiant. “I spent for-fucking-ever after I discovered boys didn’t have cooties…all that time, I chased your brother. Until he came out, and then he started dating Orochimaru, and all that work, all my hard work to get him to notice me went out the window.” She was on the verge of tears now, shaking with frustration. “And all you fucking do is stare at me like I’m a bug. You and Neji—you’re too smart, you should be at each other’s throats, not dating. I want that devotion.”

“Then find it yourself,” Itachi said. “My lover is ill in this hospital; I am trying to become a lawyer. Your problems are not my problems. I’m sure there are others who can give you what you want, but you will not find it from me.” He turned and left, pushing the doors at the end of the hall open with a palm and leaving Sakura to stand in the way of everyone, watching him go.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Naruto went down to the entrance of the dorm to let Sasuke in. His old friend looked like he hadn’t slept well in days, and all he had with him was his pack and a laptop case. He didn’t say a word as they went up the stairs and Naruto pushed open the door to his room.

“Roommate’s out right now, he said it was okay though. I grabbed a mattress pad and a sleeping bag for ya. Sure you’re all right?”

Sasuke nodded. “I’m fine. I think.” He paused, dark eyes studying a thread in the carpet very closely. “…I don’t know yet.”

“S’fine. Bet you’re better off leaving.”

Sasuke shot him a glare—the Uchiha Death Glare, all their friends had called it in high school. “You wouldn’t know. Don’t tell me anything about my relationship.”

“Seems pretty one-sided to me.”

“Shut up, Naruto. I’m going to take a nap.”

He spread out the mattress pad and the sleeping bag on top of it, put his things down by his head, and was curled up asleep in minutes. Naruto snorted.

“Some grateful guest you are,” he said, and left the room.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Kabuto found Orochimaru sitting at the lab bench but facing outwards, lost in thought. Shrugging, he went over to check the part of the lab not devoted to finding a cure; they were separating DNA to analyze parts of the aging gene.

“It’s nearly ready, Dr. Haruki,” he sang out, knowing his words would fall on deaf ears. When the scientist started thinking, he often responded only to the most direct stimuli.

He continued to stare and think as Kabuto went about his tasks around the lab. And then, he smiled, turned to an open notebook and started scribbling along the side of a dense page of notes. Kabuto heard him mutter, “That’s it…” before he snatched up the phone and dialed.

“Tsunade? Yes—oh, that’s too bad, but I’m not going to repeat it for him. If he wants to know before tomorrow he can ask for it. I’m not being unreasonable, I’m being perfectly fair and you know it. Anyway, you wanted to know why we don’t see the virus?”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade turned her back to the rest of the lab techs, crouching over. “You found out why?”

It was easy.

“Of course it was, Orochimaru. Why can’t we find anything but the usual stuff?”

The person who donated blood had it too. He was probably the original case, even—and by the time his blood got to Neji, the viral DNA had already been incorporated into the cells of the host. So there’s no trace because there was nothing there to begin with. All the virus had to do once it was inside Neji was the same thing it did to the original.

Tsunade keyed in the password for the database that held the records of every donation made and where it went. Typing in the number for the packet that Neji had gotten, she ran a search on the donator’s name.

You just looked it up, didn’t you? They’re dead, aren’t they?

“Some months ago now.”

I love being right.

“So how do we cure it?”

Still working on that. Thought you’d like to know that last bit though.

“Hurry up, Orochimaru.”

You can’t rush genius, Tsunade.

“People are dying,” she hissed into the phone. “You will hurry, or for every day after this boy dies I will come over and beat you. I still take kickboxing, Orochimaru.”

I’m so very afraid. I’ll work harder, Tsunade.

“All I ask. Bye.”

She hung up and ran her hands through her hair. They were getting too close…in the last four days of the illness, Neji would be beyond their help anymore, and she did not want to have to watch him die. Or watch his lover watch him die.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Orochimaru got home at a reasonable hour that night, after a few more frustrating hours trying to work out a cure. There was something that he couldn’t quite grasp, something he knew would work, but every time he tried to recall it, it slipped away. He’d finally cleaned up what he’d been working on and left the closing of the lab to Kabuto. Sasuke would still be awake, and they could finally get everything straightened out.

“Sasuke,” he called into the house, hanging his coat up in the closet near the door. “I’m home.”

No answer. The boy was probably sulking in the den, or upstairs. Seeing there was no one in the den, Orochimaru went up the stairs and to their room. Light glimmered through the crack in the door. “Sasuke? Are you still awake?” He pushed open the door; the bed was still made up neatly, empty. There was no one in the bathroom. Going back downstairs, a little worried now, he grabbed his coat again and went out to the barn. On the way there, he checked his cell phone. Whenever Sasuke went out with friends, he always called to say where he was going. The screen showed no missed calls.

Sliding the door to the barn open, Orochimaru went down the wide aisle between the stalls. Sasuke wasn’t curled up with the pregnant mare, or brushing one of the others in their stalls. They’d recently been fed; there was plenty of water in their buckets. Climbing up the stacks of hay and straw bales, he checked up on the top. Sometimes Sasuke would crawl up here and read, or fall asleep. But they too, were empty. Sitting down, Orochimaru pulled out his phone again and dialed Sasuke’s cell phone.

This is Sasuke’s phone. I’m not here, leave a message.

“Sasuke, it’s Orochimaru. I’m home…where are you? Give me a call back when you get this, I’ve got something I want to tell you. Love you.”

Click.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sasuke pulled the phone away from his ear and disconnected from his voicemail. Part of him wanted to run home right now and apologize, but his stubborn side had already kicked in and told him to stay.

Sighing, he put the phone under his pillow and went to sleep, tossing and turning fitfully until he finally drifted off.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Naruto couldn’t hear the actual words of the message, pretending to be asleep in his bed as he was, but he could hear the tone. The damn snake actually sounded worried.

Turning onto his side, Naruto fell asleep and dreamt of Hinata.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

On his hospital bed, Neji slept the deep and dark sleep of the ill. His eyes moved under his eyelids, and in his fever he murmured nonsense and fantastical things. Tsunade bathed his face and neck with a cool cloth, instructing the night nurse to do the same thing every half-hour until the fever broke or she went off shift.

Neji mumbled something that might have been Itachi’s name, and Tsunade stroked his hair back from his head.

“You’re going to get better,” she whispered, and left.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Alone in their bed, Orochimaru lay on his back, thinking. Sasuke had every right to be angry with him, after he’d forgotten the race, and hadn’t paid any attention to him since he’d started work on this project. But to leave…?

He did not fall asleep for a long time.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi’s dreams were full of darkness and death, and he slept restlessly. In some dreams he left Neji to die; in some Sakura was standing over Neji’s bed with a bloody knife. Some were only shades of red and black.

---
March 12th
50 days since initial infection
14 days remaining
---

Kabuto found Orochimaru sitting at the lab bench again, deep in thought. His eyes looked like he hadn’t slept at all the night before, but as always he was perfectly groomed and dressed. Shrugging it off, Kabuto went about his duties in the lab.

Suddenly, Orochimaru started to laugh. Slowly at first, then building in volume, until he was throwing his head back and laughing as though he’d lost his mind.

Leaning back, Kabuto looked at his boss. “Something wrong, Dr. Haruki?”

“I found it,” Orochimaru said, laughing again. “I found the cure.”

In an instant, Kabuto was at his side. “Show me.”

“Can’t do that, Kabuto,” the scientist said, chuckling.

“Why not?”

“Sasuke.”

“Dr. Haruki, this is hardly the time for your relationship—“

“No, you don’t get it, Kabuto,” Orochimaru said. His eyes glittered insanely. “Sasuke is the cure.”


Blog entry: Meditations
Posted by: in_sight
11:50 AM 2006-12-3

Love is beautiful.

Hahaha, I know lots of you readers out there are all lovesick, disillusioned teenagers, but seriously. Love is great. When you have friends that you bond on a deep level with—that’s love. When you find someone who completes you—that’s love. Love for friends, self, family…doesn’t matter. Love is the greatest gift we as humans can give or be given, and no matter how shitty it can get sometimes, having love is better than denying love.

That’s why I don’t mind gay people. I’m a straight man, lemme say that. I like tits as much as other straight guys, but I’m not gonna get into a twist because guys like other guys or girls like other girls. The divorce rate is higher than ever no matter how much the idiot president we’ve got preaches about family values and all that shit, and finding a loving partner is a rarity. We’re all so geared for something fast-paced and intense that we never realize how important it is to slow down and relax, and that’s why more people separate than any other reason. In fact, take their reasons and dissect ‘em, and you have that. We are a fast-food, hi-speed internet society.

Another thing I can’t stand about divorces is how it tears up kids. I hate seeing kids sad or upset or without something they need. Divorce is a leading cause of depression not only in adults but also in the children from the marriage. Kids blame themselves, and think if they did just a little bit better, or worked just a little bit harder, their parents would have stayed together. I hate seeing kids like that. So why deny homosexual couples the right to adopt when there are kids who need the love and stability such a household can bring?

Oh, there are religious reasons, but nothing’s ever won when you fight for belief. Ever. All religion gives you is a place to hide, a way to know where you stand, or something to tell you what to do. It’s better to follow your own heart. There are ways to serve God that don’t result in wars in the Middle East. I find it funny that these religions all preach love but don’t deliver.

Okay, I’ve filled my monthly pessimism quota. What do you all think of Dane Cook?

--
March 12th
50 Days after initial infection
14 days remaining
--

“Dr. Haruki, I don’t understand how Sasuke can be the cure.”

Orochimaru pulled his notebook over and started scribbling as he talked, writing everything that came to mind down. “It’s so very simple, really. I’m surprised I overlooked it. Occam’s Razor and all that, I should have known. Started from the bottom up. Then all this wouldn’t have been necessary…”

“How…?”

“I’m getting there. We know what the disease does, correct?”

“Erodes the stomach lining, affects the lining of the lungs and the oxygen-blood transfer, flu-like symptoms, loss of energy, suppression of the immune system. Results in death through these and possibly secondary infections due to the lack of an immune system. Why is this important, and what does it have to do with Sasuke?”

“It suppresses the immune system, exactly. And the loss of energy is partly because it also affects the efficiency of the mitochondria—the organelles that produce energy in the form of ATP that every cell in the body uses.”

“Yes, and the cure…”

“I thought of a class I was taking in graduate school,” Orochimaru said. “I remembered it was spring, because my mind was elsewhere than the classroom…but we were studying diseases and the effective ways to treat them. Penicillin being the cure-all of the time, of course, but there were more potent ways of curing an illness. In the most extreme cases it’s possible to take blood from those who have survived the disease and separate the plasma from the hemoglobin…from the plasma, we create a serum that produces the necessary globulins that will cure the disease.” Orochimaru massaged his temples. “It was right in front of me the whole time and I never even thought to take notice.”

“But we would need a surv—are you saying that Sasuke’s had the disease and gotten better?” Kabuto vaguely remembered that Orochimaru had given him some days off a few weeks ago, saying he needed to stay home and look after his boyfriend, but then again he often said that when he wanted to lay in bed with Sasuke all day.

“He has. He got blood from the same person…they must have donated a couple times before they truly took sick. And every person who’s received their blood has been able to donate as well until they fall ill. So it spreads through our blood supply. And Sasuke’s immune system is stronger than most, it runs in his family, and he’s active and healthy—moreso than a Business student studying inside for hours a day. He survived.”

“You didn’t tell anyone?”

“I didn’t know what it was. I assumed it to be complications from the drugs they had him on after the accident, or that he’d gotten an infected cut. It passed after a couple weeks, but it was undoubtedly the same thing. Loss of energy, bloody coughing…ha, if I’d only been able to think…”

Kabuto watched as his supervisor trailed off, staring into space. “Then we should get him to come down to the lab so we can take his blood. I’m sure if he’s in class he’ll leave, this is more important.”

Orochimaru’s laugh this time was hollow. “It’s not that simple, Kabuto.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“What do you mean, ‘complicated’?”

I mean he won’t answer my phone calls, and I have no idea where he is.

Tsunade could hear the worry behind her old friend’s words. “Orochimaru. What did you do?”

Upset him.

“Obviously.”

Tsunade, it’s vitally important that we get Sasuke’s blood. I need to separate it in a centrifuge…add some things to aid in the recovery process to it…

“I’ll call around and get back to you. And you should think of what you’ll say to him when we find him, because I’m not going to be the middleman for your lover’s spat.”

You always have such uplifting words for me, Tsunade.

“Whatever, Orochimaru.”

Click.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“Itachi.”

This is Tsunade—by any chance, is your brother with you?

“No, why?”

He’s become more important to Neji than anyone thought, and no one knows where he is.

“Maybe Naruto knows. They’re friends, he might just have gone to hang out and forgotten to tell anyone where he was going. He’s not that bright.”

Your brother is a smart young man. What’s Naruto’s number?

Itachi gave it to her, scowling the whole time. “Dr. Hisano, what’s my brother got to do with this?”

Dr. Haruki’s found a cure, but he needs your brother to complete it. Meet me at the hospital in an hour.

“Of course.”

Click.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Naruto, it’s Dr. Hisano from the hospital.

“Yeah! Whatcha want, grandma doctor?”

Sitting at the computer checking his e-mail, Sasuke looked over curiously. Doctor meant Neji, and given what he knew about the disease, it wouldn’t be good news now.

I need to know if Sasuke’s with you.

Brow furrowing, Naruto looked over at his friend. “Yeah, he is, why?”

Put him on the phone, please.

Naruto held the phone out to Sasuke, who took it. “Hello?”

It’s Tsunade. I need you to meet me at the hospital in an hour’s time—it’s very important.

“Is it Neji? Is he—“

Not yet, but his condition’s deteriorating. And what I have to tell you could bring him back to health—or condemn him to death. So be here.

“Of course. What is—“

I can’t say…just meet me there.

Click.

Sasuke looked over at Naruto, eyes full of worry and questions. “I wonder what’s so important?” he mused.

Naruto shrugged. “Dunno. I’m comin’ with ya.”

“She just asked for me. I’ve gotta go alone.”

“No, dumbass. You’ll mess things up.”

“Will not!”

Naruto let him leave alone, however, his dark hair whipping around in the wind as he walked out to his car. This was something Sasuke had to do on his own.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Orochimaru, get down here now.

“You’ve found him?”

Staying with Naruto. He’ll be here in an hour.

Orochimaru ground his teeth in frustration, jealousy pounding in his chest. What had Sasuke been doing at his friend’s—his male friend’s place? “Very well.”

Hurry.

Click.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi sat beside Neji’s bed, holding a limp hand in his. Neji had slipped into unconsciousness entirely the day before, muttering fevered half-sentences and shifting sometimes, but mostly laying still and pale against the sheets. The hand he held was damp, and burning hot from the fever that was all through his body.

“Dr. Haruki said he’d found a way to cure you that involves my little brother,” Itachi said softly. “I don’t know what he could do with Sasuke that would aid you, but he knows what he’s doing, I assume.” Idly playing with long, delicate fingers, Itachi scowled. “If it uses something my brother has to give, I just hope it won’t adversely affect your intelligence.”

Even though he knew Neji couldn’t hear him, Itachi kept talking, finding comfort in it himself. Finally, though, he stood and tucked Neji’s arm back under the sheets neatly, smoothing them over his lover’s prone body, and left for the conference room.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sasuke was ready to turn around and walk back out when he saw Orochimaru seated near the head of the table, but Tsunade grabbed him and hauled him in, practically throwing him into a seat opposite his lover.

“I don’t know what went on between you two, but you both need to grow up and put it aside for now. There is something much more important at work here, and now is not the time for your quarrels.” Her voice was so stern they both winced and looked away, trying to hide that they were both looking at each other.

Peeking out of his lashes, Sasuke watched Orochimaru watch him, and wished that his glare held more potency with his lover. The scientist pretended to be looking at Tsunade but watched Sasuke, and thought with a hint of amusement that Sasuke had always been much more adorable when he was pouting. They both heaved over-dramatic sighs, and Tsunade snorted.

Itachi came in and sat next to Sasuke. His silence was a blessing to Tsunade, after the fuss the other two had kicked up.

“How is Neji doing, Itachi?” Tsunade asked, trying to break the uncomfortable, tense silence that Orochimaru and Sasuke put the room in. When Sasuke tried to edge his chair away, Tsunade propped a foot against it and gave him a glare, looking away only when Sakura came in. She took a seat next to Orochimaru and Tsunade closed the door, leaning against it.

“He’s not responding to anything,” Itachi said. Sasuke looked over at him, surprised. Beneath his brother’s calm, impassive voice, there was an undertone not of worry, which he would have expected, but of exhaustion. “He is dreaming, and nothing we do will wake him.”

“I hope to prove you wrong, Itachi,” Orochimaru said. His golden-green eyes were stark against his dark hair. Tsunade glared at him and then Itachi, too, when the student snapped his head up and sent a look that could wither flowers. With everyone more or less in order, she sighed and resettled herself against the door.

“A cure has been found,” she said slowly. “But I understand circumstances between the person bearing the cure—“ Sakura, Itachi, and Orochimaru all looked at Sasuke, who seemed to shrink a little “—and the person who plans to develop it are less than copacetic. But let us handle that separately. Dr. Haruki, if you would explain your plan.”

They all listened while Orochimaru explained how he would draw blood from Sasuke, a survivor of the disease, and use a centrifuge to separate the two components of blood. The straw-colored liquid that would be on the top of the clotted blood would produce the antibodies that would help Neji’s embattled immune system fight off the disease. When he was done, everyone sat in stunned silence.

“How long would it take to produce a sufficient quantity of the blood serum, and how long after treatment would we expect to see a result?” Tsunade asked.

“About a day; spinning it in the centrifuge won’t take that long, but then preparing the serum with the appropriate buffers and added medicines…if I started right now it would be ready by tomorrow evening.”

“And recovery time?” she pressed.

“Hard to say. Depends on the effectiveness of the mixture; ideally I’d test it, but we don’t have that option. It is generally held to take a few days for a full recovery to become apparent—perhaps more, perhaps less. And after that the patient would have to stay under watch to make sure there wasn’t a relapse and that the immune system was building back up to a level that would ensure their ability to fight off other illnesses.”

Tsunade nodded and looked at Sasuke. His expression had gotten darker and darker as Orochimaru had talked, and now he glared around at them all. “What makes you all think I’m going to let him—“

“If that’s your problem, then I’ll draw your blood myself,” Tsunade said briskly. “But you do not have much of a choice in this; leave because of a fight and watch your friend die, or cooperate and help Neji and others infected with this live. Will your conscience allow you to do the former?”

“If you don’t, idiot brother, I’ll kill you myself,” Itachi growled. “I’m not going to let Neji die while the cure prances around in a high-strung fit. In the real world, Sasuke, adults talk about their problems with those they presume to have relationships of some sort with. Dr. Hisano, I think you should let Dr. Haruki draw his blood.”

“What—“

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Itachi,” Sakura added. “We shouldn’t let him be a baby. He wanted to help Neji; make him help and play by our rules.”

Tsunade looked down at Sasuke, glaring feebly around at all of them. “You’re outvoted.”

Sasuke slumped in his seat, but there was a slight gleam in his eyes that made Tsunade wonder just how much of his bluster was real, and how much was meant to stir those around him into anger. She hadn’t lied to Itachi when she said that no one could put one over on her; even so, she patted his shoulder.

“We’ll start right away then. Dr. Haruki, Sasuke, please follow me. Sakura, Itachi, you’re free to do what you please as long as it’s perfectly legal. I will call each of you when we’re ready to administer the vaccine.”

The three of them left; Itachi went back to his apartment and tried to study. After more than an hour of reading the same page over and over again and learning none of it, he put his books aside and went to bed, the phone within reach.

Sakura, too, tried to study, but the words ran together and she found she couldn’t focus at all. Looking up at the top shelf of her desk, she saw a picture she’d gotten along with her senior portraits; Mr. Hatake, Sasuke, Naruto and herself, all together. Even Sasuke was smiling a little. His happiness had always shown more in his eyes and his actions…as compared to loud, obnoxious Naruto, who was all smiles and glittering blue eyes. And Mr. Hatake, with his weird habit of hiding the lower part of his face under a mask—when she went home next, she’d have to drop by the high school and see him. And there was herself—stylish as always, but in a smart way.

Next to that was a picture of Naruto and Hinata, after they’d first gotten together. Now those blue eyes only really lit up for the shy Hyuuga, when once they’d lit for Sakura.

Lost in thought and memory, she stared into these pieces of the past.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade had showed them where all the supplies they’d need were and had left, saying she needed to see to her other patients. Leaving them alone together probably wasn’t a terribly good idea, but Orochimaru had never had a good head for relationships and Sasuke was young, so she was hoping that between the two of them, they could work something out.

Sasuke was seated in the chair, exceptionally stiff to show how annoyed he was. The old hag had gone off and left him with Orochimaru, who was setting up a small plastic bag with tubing. He fit a capped needle to the end and sat on a chair next to Sasuke’s arm, turning it so the inner elbow was exposed. “Raising the veins to the skin might take a moment,” he said in his best professional voice. It sounded too harsh and artificial to Sasuke. “So just relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” He swallowed, and his lips moved as if he had something else to say, but whatever it was remained silent.

Reminding himself that he was doing this for Neji, Sasuke closed his eyes and relaxed as Orochimaru’s fingers flicked at the sensitive skin of his elbow. He barely flinched when the needle was finally inserted, and opened his eyes to watch his blood flow out of him and down the tubing.

“You aren’t taking very much,” he said quietly. Orochimaru’s eyes were on the slowly filling plastic bag, not him, as he nodded.

“Only half a liter. Given that there are other patients I’m sure we should draw more, but I’m not taking more from you than I have to at the moment.”

They were both silent for the rest of the procedure. When the bag was full, Orochimaru pressed a piece of gauze over the needle and drew it back out, taking it over to the bench and beginning to portion it out into vials. Holding the piece of gauze to his arm, Sasuke craned his head around to watch the other man as he went about his business.

“You’re free to go,” Orochimaru said. His back was turned.

Tossing the piece of gauze, Sasuke walked over to him, leaning against the counter. Each vial was inserted carefully into the larger of the centrifuges, and locked in place. The lid was placed on it, and Orochimaru set the centrifuge for five minutes and started it. A loud hum began; satisfied, he turned to Sasuke.

“Is there something more you need?” he asked. A great many answers flicked through the younger man’s head, from fuck you, I’m leaving to an appropriately dramatic tearful apology, but as he ran through them he realized none fit. So he simply stood up on tiptoe and kissed his lover, lips saying things he could not.

He left in silence, driving slower than usual on the way back to Naruto’s school. His eyes were downcast when Naruto ran over, having seen him drive up. They too were silent on the way up to Naruto’s room.

“Hey Sasuke—hey, what’s wrong?”

Sasuke sat heavily on his sleeping bag and put his head in his hands. “Nothing, Naruto. Just…I need to sleep awhile.”

“Neji—is he—“

“No. Let me sleep.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Naruto went back to reading some highbrow-looking book, and Sasuke curled up on his side, silently willing his cell phone to go off because he knew it would be Orochimaru wanting to talk. He drifted off to sleep still staring at it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade knocked on the door of the lab once before entering. “Orochimaru, I’m going off shift, and you need to rest. You’ve done all you can for tonight; we can pick up again tomorrow morning. I’m going to come in early anyway.”

Bent over the microscope, the other man didn’t even look up. “I have to make sure that the serum produces what we need.”

“It will work. Have a little faith.”

“One cannot simply have faith in a procedure. It must be tested before it can be proved.”

“Then have faith in other things.”

Finally Orochimaru turned to look at her; his lack of sleep made him seem ten years older. Inwardly Tsunade knew she looked the same right now. They all did. “If not this, then what should I place my faith in, Tsunade-hime?”

“How many times must I ask you not to call me that? That boy who loves you, for one thing; faith in him should be beyond even this to you.”

Orochimaru snorted and turned back to the scope. “He’s the one who—“

“You always blamed other people for things that happened to you,” she pressed. “Not once in the years that I’ve known you have you taken responsibility; not when your parents died in the fire that caused you to move in with us, not when your work was disgraced, and not now. But it’s not Sasuke’s fault that you’re a workaholic, would it kill you to apologize this once?”

“As a matter of fact, it would.”

Tsunade sighed. “Then perhaps separation from him is for the best, hm?”

As she walked down the corridor, she heard footsteps behind her. Wiping the smile off her face and out of her voice, she asked, “Did you lock the door?”

Orochimaru came up to walk next to her out of the wing. “Yes, I did.”

“Are you going to talk to him tonight?”

“Probably not. It’s late.”

“How considerate of you.”

“I do try.”

Tsunade watched as he drove off, and smiled. “I’ve grown cunning in my old age, it seems,” she muttered, and got in her car.

--
March 13th
51 Days after initial infection
13 days remaining
--

Itachi met the Hyuugas for breakfast before they went to go take care of changing Neji’s academic status and pulling him out of classes this semester. Even if this cure worked, Tsunade had told him in an e-mail she’d sent to Neji’s family as well that she would want to keep him in the hospital for ‘a few weeks to a month’ to make sure that he was able to fight off other diseases. His immune system was so weakened at this point that even the least potent cold could become dangerous for him.

Hiashi was surprisingly kind to Itachi. When they’d gone to visit the Hyuugas in their sprawling mansion at the Hamptons, as a native of southern California he’d always felt a little out of place in the more cultured East. Part of that he’d attributed to his sexuality, but there was an air of no-westerners-allowed at so many places that he’d politely bowed out of the more upper-echelon parties that they’d been invited to. Neji had rather welcomed the escape from it, as he was often released from his duty to go as well. Hinata and Naruto were not so lucky—although the blond looked much more clean-cut in a tuxedo and Hinata always had a beautiful grace about her no matter what she was in.

“Itachi?”

“Yes, Mr. Hyuuga?”

“Hiashi, please—we’ve known each other long enough. I thought it fitting to tell you that no matter what happens, we Hyuugas have…well, we’ve come to see you as one of our own. We do appreciate what a positive influence you are on our Neji.”

Itachi nodded. “Thank you, Hiashi, but I hope we don’t need to watch your nephew…” he trailed off pointedly. Hiashi nodded.

“If he’d been my son, he would have been in the best of care—where is it you westerners have your best medical campus? Davis?”

Itachi smiled, although it held little warmth. “I think Neji is in better hands here, Hiashi. He is surrounded by his friends.”

Hiashi smiled at him, and for the first time Itachi didn’t feel as though he was being measured against some standard and found lacking by the businessman. A sickness in the family did interesting things, he thought.

“You make an excellent point,” Hiashi said, sipping his coffee. “Excellent indeed. Tell me, do you have any job offers? Talent of your kind surely hasn’t gone overlooked by the local firms, you know how they’re all bloodhounds for up-and-coming law students.”

“I’m doing secretarial work for a firm now. It’s good experience.”

“When you graduate and pass the Bar—if there is no place here that interests you, my company is looking to expand into the market on this side of the country. We would appreciate someone such as yourself working on our team of lawyers.”

“That’s very generous of you. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Hiashi sat back, satisfied. “That’s all I ask.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Laying on Naruto’s bed watching movies on his laptop, Sasuke jumped when his phone buzzed, vibrating harshly against the desktop. Snatching it up, he looked hopefully at the display—and, disappointed, flipped it open. “Hello?”

Sasuke, this is Dr. Hisano at the hospital. I wanted to see how you were doing.

“All right.”

Naruto not being too obnoxious?

“Not at all. We’re old childhood friends anyway—I’m used to him.”

That’s good. Your somewhat reluctant Romeo tells me that the vaccine will be ready this evening. He’s bringing it at about five in the afternoon, so if you’d like to be here...I’m sure your presence would be much appreciated.

Sasuke rolled the idea over in his mind a minute before nodding to himself. “I’ll be there.”

Very good. I’ll see you then.

“Okay. ‘bye.” Thumbing the END CALL button, he glared at the phone a minute longer and flipped it shut. Why didn’t he call? Did he really want to leave? Not for the first time, the young man wondered if he’d been too brash in leaving.

Rolling onto his back, Sasuke stared at the ceiling until it was time to leave.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Orochimaru packed the neatly labeled vial and the syringes into a small cooler and snapped it shut. He was due at the hospital by five, and it was a bit of a drive to Los Angeles.

Tucking the cooler under his arm, he locked the lab door and shut it. He’d given Kabuto the rest of the week off, and had informed the supervisors at the company that he was in need of a long vacation. After some deliberation and threats of taking his research and its associated patents elsewhere (namely, to a rival company nearby) they’d agreed that a salaried leave of absence for health reasons was required for a scientist working under the pressure as he was, and had given him a full year to return. Kabuto would be conducting his own research, as well as ongoing research into the aging gene, in Orochimaru’s name.

Getting in the car, he set the cooler carefully on the passenger’s-side floor, and checked a manila folder to make sure all the papers were there before starting up and heading for the city. Every few minutes he would glance over at the cooler. Many hopes ran on the little glass vial of serum that the cooler contained, and in his ability to create the serum correctly.

Tossing his hair out of his face, Orochimaru smirked. He knew he had not made a mistake.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi was at the hospital at four forty-five, in time to see Orochimaru drive up and get out carrying a small Styrofoam cooler and a folder that bulged with papers. He waited by the entrance and walked with the older scientist as they went through the doors of the ward. Tsunade greeted them, and together the three of them went into the lab and locked the door. The blond doctor had ordered all but a skeleton crew in place that evening, and the normally bustling lab was empty save for them. Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, Orochimaru opened the cooler and pulled out the vial. They all stared at the mostly-clear liquid in it.

“Is that it?” Itachi asked. “You didn’t make much.”

“This is only one batch. The most potent, as far as I could tell,” Orochimaru shot back. “As I said yesterday, if I’d had time to test it, I would have refined the serum further, but as it is this is the best.” He tapped the vial with one finger.

“Shouldn’t we—now?” Itachi asked. Tsunade looked at him through her bangs.

“We’re expecting a few more guests,” she said vaguely.

After a few more minutes, Sakura pushed open the lab door and Sasuke walked in. He looked freshly washed and neat, and strode in confidently enough to make Itachi think to himself The idiot really knows he’s on display here, doesn’t he? But as he got closer, his steps slowed, and he stopped a few feet away from them. Beside her, Tsunade felt Orochimaru tense. They’d shifted so that the only comfortable spot for Sasuke would be between Itachi and Orochimaru.

“Come on over, Sasuke,” Tsunade said calmly, though the corner of her mouth was turned up slightly. “None of us will bite here.”

Orochimaru caught the pun and glared at her. His eyes were golden in the light. Uncharacteristically meek, Sasuke sidled over and stood next to Orochimaru. His midnight-ocean eyes were focused on the vial. “That’s going to make Neji better?” he asked.

“We hope so,” Orochimaru replied, and twitched a little. A look passed between the two of them, and slowly the tension ebbed away.

Sakura poked her head in. “The Hyuugas are here, too. And Naruto. Said he’d come with Hinata and he intends to look after his girl.”

Tsunade sighed. “I suppose it can’t be helped,” she muttered. “Knew the loudmouth brat was going to worm his way in somehow.” Looking around at the tired group of men, she nodded. “The guests have all come to our little party. I think it’s time to test this out—but it’s important that all of you believe it will work. If any of you have any doubts…” She couldn’t suppress a laugh as all three gave her dark looks. “I get the message. Let’s go.”

The hallway was crowded with people as she led the way from the lab to Neji’s room. There were the solemn, serious grey eyes of the Hyuugas; Naruto’s bright blue ones next to Hinata’s worried ones. And to her surprise, some of the other students were there as well—Kiba; Lee, a kinesiology major and old classmate of Neji’s; TenTen, who was a Women’s Studies major with an emphasis in the history of women in combat, and others she didn’t recognize. Stopping for a moment, she looked around at them all. “Who let these people in?”

Sakura stepped forward. “I did. They wanted to come.”

“I said nobody but the family and the ones I approved.”

“I couldn’t turn them away, Dr. Hisano.” Sakura looked strangely resolute. “We need all the prayers we can get.”

“It’s too much of a hassle to kick this rabble out, anyway. But I won’t have all of you crowding into that room,” Tsunade said. “Only myself, Sakura, Dr. Haruki, Itachi, Sasuke, and a few family members at a time are allowed in, no exceptions. And for God’s sake, be quiet.”

She went into the room. Neji was almost the same color as the sheets and pillows he lay on, save for the spots of fever-color high on his cheeks. He was lost in a fever dream, eyes darting under his lids. Automatically, Itachi went to take his hand but Orochimaru stopped him.

“I’m going to need that arm for a moment, and then you can have it back,” he said. His ill-timed attempt at humor brought no laughter. Shrugging it off, the geneticist pulled the syringe out of the box. Unscrewing the lid of the vial, he uncapped and pushed the needle through the permeable covering on the top, drawing out more of the liquid until the syringe was full. Turning Neji’s arm out, he brought the veins to the surface; bold, blue lines under pale skin. Very careful and precise, he inserted the needle into the vein and slowly depressed the plunger on the syringe until it was empty. Pressing gauze over the needle he drew it back out, keeping pressure on the spot until he was certain it would not be bleeding. This done, he cleaned up, disposed of the syringe in the hazardous waste container, and left the room, perfectly calm. Only Sasuke saw the blood on his lips; in hiding his nervousness and out of want of keeping his hand steady, he had bitten through the skin.

“How long will it take?” Hiashi asked.

“It depends. Neji has to be fighting this as well as the serum we just injected into him. I’m sure that he is,” she added, forestalling Itachi’s protesting, “Regardless of that. It can take a few days before progress is shown.”

The Hyuugas looked between each other, and retreated into the hallway to hold a small family meeting. Tsunade looked at Itachi, already seated next to Neji, and Sasuke standing awkwardly by the door, and Sakura leaning against the windows next to him.

“Sakura, you’ll be in charge of making sure that any and all visitors here are orderly,” Tsunade said. “I’ll tolerate no shenanigans in my ward. No one but those I mentioned are to be in here. No more than two of his family members at a time, and no more than four in here total…although I have a feeling that someone will be constant, so make that three.” She nodded at Itachi. “You’ll also be in charge of making sure that he doesn’t starve himself for want of staying by his lover’s side. I’ve already got one of them in here sick, I don’t need the other. They cause far more trouble than they’re worth.”

“I can take care of myself,” the older Uchiha muttered.

“Like hell. Sasuke…you’re free to come or go as you please. Your part here is done for now.”

“I’m going to see this through,” he said, tilting his chin up proudly.

“Very well. Then stay, or go outside as you will. I’ve got to break up the pow-wow out there.”

Sakura left with her and shut the door, leaving Sasuke with his brother and a dying man. For a long time, nothing was said; Sasuke walked over to the other side of the bed and leaned on the edge, chin cupped in one hand. They watched Neji in silence.

“Do you think – do you think it’ll work, Itachi?” the younger brother asked slowly. “Is my blood strong enough to save him?”

“For your sake, I hope so,” Itachi replied waspishly. “But be proud, little brother. For once, you have something I do not.”

They were quiet again for a long time; the discussion outside moved down the hall. There was the sound of the others rustling around outside the door, and the big doors between the ward and the waiting room opening and closing.

“Itachi…”

“Yes?”

“Do you and Neji ever get into fights?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask for advice on that, Sasuke.”

“What do you suggest I do then?” The snobby edge was back in his voice.

“Find someone else to bother.”

Huffing, Sasuke left the room. Itachi rested his head on Neji’s belly, faintly able to hear his heartbeat through the blankets, and closed his eyes.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“How’s he doing?”

Itachi looked down at Neji, still lost somewhere between reality and dreaming. “I think he feels a bit cooler,” he said. “But that could just be my body absorbing the heat.”

“We can hope,” Hiashi said. His voice was calm and his hand steady as he arranged his nephew’s hair on the pillow.

“Hope is but a waking dream,” Itachi said, watching Neji’s face carefully. Hiashi smiled.

“You remind me much of Neji…and of myself, in our younger years,” he said quietly. “The two of you are very much alike.”

“I think that’s why we get along so well, sir.”

“Quite possibly. But as to hope—well, you are hoping right now that he’ll recover, aren’t you?”

“Yes…”

“And that’s a very real possibility, is it not?”

“It is.”

“Then your hope is not a dream.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sasuke flopped into a seat next to Naruto and Hinata. “Stupid brother,” he muttered.

“Itachi seems nice enough. He’s always very welcome with our family when he comes to visit us at home,” Hinata said quietly. “They seem to like him.”

“Seems to be,” Sasuke muttered. Other arm around Hinata’s shoulders, Naruto nudged Sasuke in the ribs.

“Shouldn’t you go see how your boyfriend’s doing?”

“Lover,” Sasuke corrected automatically. “And I—“

“I’m sure he’d appreciate something to eat,” Hinata said. “He looked exhausted.”

“He’s been working hard on this cure…”

“It would do you both good. Just go,” she pressed.

Sighing, Sasuke rose again and went off to find the cafeteria, following the arrows on the signs above until he got to the place. It was half-empty, and he walked right up to the counter and got some coffee for Orochimaru, a bottle of water for himself, and some delicious-looking pastry. He hadn’t eaten since that morning, and he was famished.

Winding back through the corridors, Sasuke got back to the ward and asked Sakura where Orochimaru had gone.

“I think I saw him head to the crash room,” she said, leaning against the wall next to Neji’s door.

“Crash room?”

“Place for the doctors and nurses to grab some sleep if they need to. Down the corridor, room 156.”

“Thanks.”

Pushing through the gaggle of Hyuugas in his way, he watched the room numbers until he got to 156 and pushed it open with his hip. It was dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner; the room was full of bunks.

“Orochimaru?” he called. There was a stir from one of the bunks, and Sasuke let the door close and walked over to a suspicious lump under the blankets of one of the bottom mattresses.

“I brought you some coffee,” Sasuke said, standing uncomfortably at the foot of the bed. “Or water, if you don’t want it. And a pastry sort of thing.”

“Water, please,” Orochimaru rasped sleepily, struggling to his elbows. He gulped it in great swallows, wiping his mouth when he was done and looking at the now half-empty bottle. “And what do you mean by ‘pastry sort of thing’? Is it or is it not a pastry?”

Sasuke smiled, just a little. He’d missed the other’s strange humor. “It is. Would you like some?”

“Only if you’ll sit here and share it with me, and not look so out-of place.”

Watching Orochimaru nibble at the food, Sasuke looked down at the half in his lap. “Orochimaru, I—“

“Don’t say it,” the older man cut in, eyes intense. “I know.”

“But I—“

“I said, I know.”

“Whatever.” Sasuke cast around for another subject, feeling much better. His eyes lit on a manila folder on top of the now-empty cooler. “What’s that?”

The glint in his lover’s eyes took on a devious edge, as though he knew something Sasuke didn’t. “Why don’t you have a look inside?”

Sasuke set the coffee down on the floor and opened the clasp on it, pulling out a thick pile of papers and glossy magazines of some sort. His brow furrowed as he looked over the first one. “Itinerary for a trip to Europe?”

“Monthlong trip,” Orochimaru said. “You didn’t happen to grab something like napkins, did you?”

The younger Uchiha pulled them from his pocket and handed them over, studying the itinerary more closely. “We’re going to visit Hunga—the Babolna stud? If this is a joke—“

“It’s not,” the geneticist said, obviously delighted with himself. “Arranged around your vacation from the academy, so you won’t miss classes.”

“A week there…and another in Italy?”

“Something for the both of us as well, not just the equestrian of the pair.”

“Orochimaru, I don’t know what…”

“Keep on going through that stack,” he urged. “There’s much more.”

Setting those papers aside, Sasuke thumbed through them one by one. There was a trip to Australia…to Japan, to visit Orochimaru’s family, his birth home, and to do some sightseeing...various other things that were closer to home and some that were farther as well—a race listing of meets in California, all over…and a sheaf of papers clipped together. Setting all the others aside, Sasuke stared at it incredulously.

“Registration for the Riverside meet? But I thought that we couldn’t make it!”

“Nothing is impossible, Sasuke,” Orochimaru said. “You wanted it, so I got it for you. We’ve got some training to do…that is, if you plan on coming home…”

Sasuke glared at him. “Of course I am. But things are going to be different with you and work.”

“Worry not about that!” Orochimaru waved his arm, grandiose. “I’ve taken leave from BioCon.”

“What? What about your research?”

“It can wait.”

“What if more of this vaccine is needed?”

“I made more than enough. Used correctly, it’ll be enough for the next year or so, if the disease is contained. Don’t worry about what-ifs, Sasuke, just come here closer. I’ve a need to feel you again that has been ignored for far too long.”

Setting the whole stack on the ground, Sasuke crawled up the bed and curled against his lover. Almost immediately, his body remembered how to mold and nestle against the curves of the other’s body, and he relaxed. Orochimaru’s fingers playing through his hair were familiar, loving even, and the warmth seeping through them both was stupefying.

Tsunade found them like that, Sasuke comfortably couched in his lover’s body and Orochimaru with his chin on the other’s head. Pulling the blanket up around them, Tsunade grinned, tossed the long-since cold coffee, and closed the door quietly behind her.

--
March 14th
52 Days after initial infection
12 days remaining
--

Itachi was jolted awake by Sakura pushing a sandwich at him. “Eat,” she commanded, standing over him and glaring until he obligingly took a bite. His stomach reminded him that it was hungry, and he ravenously downed the rest. She held out a bottle of water. “Drink, but not too fast or you’ll—choke,” she finished with a sigh, rubbing his back until he stopped coughing. When he had, she checked the monitors and sighed again.

“How is he?” Itachi asked. It was unclear to him what most of the readouts meant.

“Still in Wonderland,” Sakura replied. “Itachi, I’m sorry I put you in the place I did. Wasn’t very professional of me.”

“Don’t do it again,” Itachi grumbled, massaging his legs. They’d fallen asleep with him, it seemed. “Time is it?”

“One fifty-two in the morning, according to my watch,” Sakura said cheerily. “The crash room is occupied, too. Unless you don’t get grossed by seeing your brother cuddle.”

“Sasuke does not cuddle.”

“They look pretty cuddly to me.”

“They are very strange, different people.”

Sakura giggled. “I think it’s cute. Still wish I coulda gotten my hands on your brother, but…” she shrugged. “I found someone else, anyway.”

Curious, and looking for a distraction, he asked “Who?”

“Sai Jiro, a Studio Art major. Japanese exchange student, he’s very gifted.”

“I am happy for you.”

“Oh please,” she said, giggling again. “You’ve got as much happiness for me as you do for ants. Take care of him, Itachi.”

She left, and he put his head back on his arms and dozed off again.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He woke to whispers.

“How’s he doing?”

“No signs of change.”

“Do you think it worked?”

“I hope so…look at his eye movement, it’s like he’s darting around scared.”

A pause.

“Wonder what’s going on in his head?”

“Doubt we wanna know. Why don’t you go back to that old mad scientist you left sleeping…”

He was gone.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Naruto woke with a jolt. Hinata was asleep on his shoulder, breathing soft and even. Someone had covered them with a blanket in the night. The atomic clock on the wall read 4:45 AM.

Most of the rest of Neji’s family had gone back to the hotel; Hiashi and a few others were still here, but other than them, Naruto and Hinata, and Neji’s old classmates they were alone. Sasuke had disappeared off, presumably with his boyfriend, and Sakura had gone back into the ward to sleep around 2 AM.

Pushing Hinata off him and into a comfortable position in her chair, Naruto got up, stretched, and padded into the hallway. He wasn’t allowed into the room, of course, but he could look through the windows. Pressing his nose to the glass, Naruto looked in at his friend.

“Still asleep,” he murmured. “Get up, sleepyhead.”

“I don’t think that’ll work, Naruto,” a soft voice from behind him said. Turning, he saw Hinata wrapped up in the blanket. Pulling her over, the blond put his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. They both watched.

“We gotta believe it’ll work though. I’m scared of what Sasuke’s brother would do to us if we didn’t.”

“Do you think it’ll work, Naruto?”

“Of course I do!” His voice echoed strangely down the corridor, and he dropped it to a whisper. “Of course. Neji’s my friend, and I don’t want him to d—yeah,” he muttered.

“We weren’t close after his father died,” Hinata murmured. “But he came around eventually. And I grew up.”

“He’s a good guy. Might be an asshole sometimes, but…”

Hinata giggled. “He’s just so serious, it scares everyone.”

“What are you two doing?” Tsunade came up next to them, looked in for a moment before looking back at them.

“Just watching. We’re not in the room,” Naruto started, but she put up a hand.

“I understand. You both look bushed—don’t you have classes tomorrow?”

“This is more important, Dr. Hisano,” Hinata said. Her voice was quiet and strong.

“You kids,” Tsunade said with a grin. “Then there’s still space in the crash room. G’wan with you two.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Itachi woke up and went back to sleep a half-dozen more times, fading in and out like his lover did. Sometimes there were people in with him, sometimes it was just Sakura or Tsunade checking the monitors, sometimes it was just random. Once, he thought he heard his father’s voice.

“They still in there…”

“Been almost a full day now…”

“Get him out of there, I…”

Sometimes he thought Neji was stirring and jolted himself awake. Reality had become fused with dreaming, and so it wasn’t until Sakura shook him awake holding breakfast on a tray that he was able to ground himself again.

Eating the sterile-tasting bacon, he watched Sakura checking the monitors. “Still asleep,” she said. “I wonder what his dreams are like?”

“Probably nightmares. He was waking up with nightmares a few days before I took him here.”

Sakura tilted her head. “He looks so peaceful sometimes. When he’s not twitchy and muttering…and before he lost consciousness, he and I would talk a lot. I’m sure he told you that though.”

“He did.” Itachi started on the cereal. He was always more hungry when he had nothing to do, it seemed.

“He’ll get better. My father would say he’s got a spirit of fire in him. Those kind…don’t give up so easily.” She took the tray and left.

An hour later, Orochimaru and Sasuke came in. Somehow they managed to look as though they hadn’t been up half the night or scrunched together on a mattress meant for one person.

“Still spinning dreams?” the older man asked. Itachi nodded. Orochimaru studied Neji’s face for a long time.

“It won’t be long now,” he said. “We’re going to go get breakfast.”

“I already ate.”

“Suit yourself.” They left. Itachi pillowed his head on his arms and slept.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tsunade was sitting at her computer when it chimed, and her e-mail counter moved from 0 to 1. Curious, she clicked it and opened the e-mail. Incredulous, she read it again, and then smiled.

“Damn kid’s finally turned up,” she muttered. “Of course.”

Her fingers flew over the keys as she typed her reply.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dreams became myth. Myth became reality, and slowly his body began to wake itself up. Systems that had shut down began to come back online, one at a time. His brain performed checks; it saw there was still a weakness, a great chasm between How Things Are and How Things Used To Be, but that given time it would be bridged and life could resume its normal, smooth course. Awareness was last to come back, creeping up from the smallest, most insignificant cells in the body to his conscious mind. After a long, long time, Neji woke up.

It took him a moment to orient himself. Hospital bed. ICU. I’ve been sick.

There was an unfamiliar weight on one arm that was not from the IV or the various monitors. His neck was stiff, like he’d been sleeping in one position too long. It popped a couple times, and then he was able to look down at what—who—it was holding down his arm.

“Itachi…?” he murmured hazily. His free hand went to touch the familiar, dark hair, black shot through with dark brown from the California sunshine. At his name and the soft touch, his lover stirred, and Neji smiled weakly. He was still so weak, so tired…but he felt a little bit of strength returning to him.

Blinking, Itachi sat up and watched him quietly for long enough to make Neji start to worry. “Itachi, is something the matter?”

“No,” he whispered, unfolding his arms and brushing his fingers over a cool cheek. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“I feel as though I’ve slept for years.” Neji grimaced as his back popped in his struggling up to a sitting position. “I’m still tired, even…?” Surprise flitted across his face as Itachi sat up more and wrapped his arms indelicately as far around Neji as he could reach with the cords and monitors and IV. “Itachi?”

“You’re awake now. This isn’t another dream.”

“I hope not. I’ve been having such strange dreams…”

“Itachi, what on ear—Neji! You’re awake!”

It took most of Neji’s strength to move Itachi so he could look up at the blond doctor now standing next to him. “Dr. Hisano—how long have I been asleep?”

“More than two days, now. We feared a coma. But you’re awake now, and…” She carefully checked all the monitors and pulled a thermometer out of a cabinet on the wall and pushed it into his ear, checking his temperature.

“Your fever’s broken, too,” she said. “This is…how do you feel?”

“Tired, weak…but better than I have since I came here.”

“More energy?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful,” Tsunade said. Her eyes had picked up a glitter in them. “Let me—oh—“

Sakura poked her head in to see what her mentor was fussing about, and stared in shock when she saw that Neji was sitting upright. “Neji!”

“Good morning, Sakura,” he said around a yawn.

“It’s afternoon, actually,” she said. Her big green eyes had begun to fill with tears. “Just after six.”

“Ah, I see. Sakura, why are you crying?”

Her mouth moved for a minute before she ran from the room in tears. Neji looked confused until Tsunade patted him.

“These past few days have been rough on everyone,” she explained. “Don’t blame yourself, though, boy.”

The rest of the hour was a haze of people coming and going—Orochimaru and Sasuke first, both looking proud (and like everyone else, exhausted); his family, his friends…Neji thought a couple of them made the rounds twice, until finally Tsunade shooed everyone out and told them to go get rest in a proper bed, and that they weren’t to bother her patient unless she was there to supervise. At last she came back to Neji’s room, smiling just a bit when she saw the two lovers still together. Putting a hand on Itachi’s shoulder, she squeezed it.

“You need rest, boy,” she said quietly. “Neji needs it too. I’ll be here watching him all night.”

“I should stay?”

“No, off to your own bed with you. Neji won’t be going anywhere.” She caught the younger man’s scowl and grinned. “Not until he has my okay. Now say your goodnight and go.” She left the room to give them a little privacy, and when Itachi finally came out and closed the door behind him, Tsunade smiled at him.

“He’ll be here until I think he’s really making a recovery. Then we’ll move him to long-term care. I’d say a month, two months at the most. And he’ll have to come in for checkups after that.”

“I can take him. His family’s going back home at the end of the week anyway.”

“Good. Go home and rest. He’s in good hands here.”

She watched Itachi leave the building, wondering if she should have someone go with him, but figured he was capable of driving himself home without crashing. Looking into Neji’s room, she found him already asleep and neatly tucked in, and left. Orochimaru and Sasuke were in the crash room, talking quietly. Sasuke looked bright around the edges, and she eyed him warily.

“Where do I need to have the janitorial staff clean up?” she asked. He grinned.

“Nowhere, Dr. Hisano,” he replied brightly. “We don’t do the broom closet thing.”

“Too many sharp edges in there,” Orochimaru said from where he was zipping his bag shut. “We’re heading out. Going to get Sasuke’s things from his friend’s dormitory, and then go home and sleep for about a week.”

“Sounds a plan to me,” Tsunade said. “Oh, Orochimaru—Jiraiya turned up.”

“He did? Where was the pervert hiding?”

“He’s an inspirational blogger—not religion so much as his own ramblings. He’s coming out to visit us for awhile, probably until May.”

“What part of May?”

“Early part, why?”

“I’ll be off in Europe with Sasuke for a month starting the twenty-first of May.”

“Really? You’re actually taking a vacation?”

“Yearlong leave from BioCon. I thought it was time to relax for a bit.” A secretive look passed between the two lovers, and Orochimaru stood and shouldered the bag. “We must away now, Tsunade. The serum, should you need more of it, is in the fridge on the second shelf. Hopefully he’ll make a full recovery, and you won’t need it.”

“I’m hoping that as well. You two had better go. Thank you for all your help—really, Orochimaru.”

She watched them leave, hand in hand, and settled down on an unused bunk. Her cell phone alarm was set to wake her up in three hours so she could check on Neji; but for the first time since he had come into the hospital, Tsunade slept peacefully.

--

Blog Entry: To The Wire
Posted by: in_sight
3:45 PM 2006-14-3

Hey guys. Just a quick note to tell all you faithful readers that I’m not gonna be updating for awhile. I finally had the balls to get into contact with an old friend of mine—and I’m gonna be heading out west to visit her and my other friend for awhile. I figure it’s time to get back in contact and all. If I do post, it won’t be as regular as usual.

So until then, kids! in_sight signing off.

Epidemic
Chapter 6: Lotus

And with this chapter, the story of Epidemic is complete. I have so many people to thank but I’d rather get on with the story—you know who you all are, anyway. Thanks for staying with me on this wonderful cracky adventure!

April 14th

Tsunade walked in through the doors of the hospital, smiling at the people she passed. Everyone waved or called a hello to her as she walked through the ward, checking on her patients and taking care of their needs. She had a short conversation with those who could, let them know how they were doing and what she had planned for them sometimes; sometimes she just joked around. Seeing them laugh and smile brought her hope.

Humming, she took the elevator up to Long-Term Care, and found her way to a certain room. The walls inside were covered with get-well cards and there were no less than three vases full of flowers on the bedside table. And the occupant of the room was sitting up, reading a book, and looking healthier than ever.

“How are you doing today, Neji?” she asked brightly. It was nice to see his color was coming back, and his silver eyes that had been dead and dull only a month before were now full of life again. He set the book down and smiled at her.

“I’m fine. When am I going to get out of here?”

“When the doctor checks you off. There’s still a risk of secondary infection.”

“I can take medicine just as easily at home as I can here.” Neji scowled. “This place is driving me insane.”

“Don’t become an axe murderer and we’ll call it even.” Tsunade grinned as she sat next to him. “Do you think you didn’t drive me crazy, walking the line between death and life?”

Neji plucked at the sheet with his fingertips. “I still want to get out of here.”

“I understand. It won’t be long now, okay?”

“Yes, Dr. Hisano.”

“Hang in there, kiddo,” she said affectionately. Tsunade would miss him when he finally went home, but at the same time, she’d be glad to see him get back to normalcy.

On the way out, she ran into Itachi coming out of the elevator. He nodded calmly; another welcome change from his edginess when his lover was sick.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Hisano,” Itachi said politely.

“On the way to visit him?”

“Yes. When will he—“

“I’m the wrong person to ask. But it won’t be long if he’s back to being prickly like he is. Go on with you, now.” She watched his back as he walked down the corridor, and smiled as she got into the elevator. It was going to be a good day.

She found a quiet young man sitting in her office when she got back down to the ICU ward. He had a sketchpad out and was quickly covering the paper with a beautiful portrait of Sakura. Leaning over, she watched until he stopped and looked up.

“It’s Sakura to the life,” she said encouragingly.

“I am not so sure,” Sai said, studying it with a critical eye. “I don’t think I put her forehead in proportion. It’s rather large compared to—“

“Don’t finish that sentence, Sai,” an irate voice called from the scrub room. Sakura walked out with her hair in a ponytail. Tsunade had the strangest notion that she’d continue to dye it until she breathed her last, but shrugged. Pink hair fit Sakura more than her natural mousy brown. She was getting off shift, and hung up her plain blue outfit on the rack.

“I am sorry, Sakura,” the artist replied and closed his pad, putting it away neatly in his bag. “But you do—“

“Hush,” Tsunade said. “Enjoy your date tonight, you two.” Their hands laced, they walked out. Smiling, the doctor sat at her desk and worked on the day’s reports.

On the desk next to her computer were an abundance of pictures; ones of Orochimaru, Jiraiya and herself as children and teens; there was one of Naruto and Hinata at a beach nearby, silhouetted against the sunset; one of Sasuke after he’d won the race that had nearly torn his relationship apart, with Orochimaru standing proudly at the horse’s head. In the place of honor was an eight-by-ten of all of them, plus Hiashi, standing around Neji’s bed after he’d been transferred out of ICU. They’d all looked tired, and at that point Neji had still been sickly-looking, but was well on the way to recovery.

About an hour later, Itachi knocked on the door and let himself in. Tsunade looked up from the screen.

“Yes?” she prodded.

“We just wanted to let you know that they cleared Neji for discharge. I’m taking him home.”

“That’s wonderful! I’m sure he’s overjoyed.”

“Massively.” Itachi’s expression was dark. “He didn’t like it here.”

“The only people who do are the doctors, and we’re all insane to begin with.” She smiled. “Take him home and treat him right, will you? And come visit every so often. I’ve become fond of the brat, and you.”

Her eyes might have just taken that moment to fail her, but Tsunade could have sworn a tiny, secretive smile flitted across Itachi’s lips. “We will, Dr. Hisano. Goodbye.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Neji hadn’t walked very much over the time he’d been in the hospital, and although his body would never forget the how, it was more than possible to be a little shaky after long periods of laying around in a hospital bed. After slowly walking out of the hospital, he got the hang of it again and was only a little wobbly on the way from the car to their apartment. It still took most of his energy away, and once inside he collapsed heavily on the couch. The apartment looked freshly cleaned (were those vacuum-cleaner lines on the carpet?) and everything was neat, and while he knew that his lover liked things organized, he didn’t think that he’d had the time. Itachi caught his confusion and shrugged.

“My brother’s one of a pair of neat freaks,” he said. “I can take you to the bedroom if you like.”

“I’m fine here.” Neji looked around the apartment again, and saw that there was a stack of movies on the table—the same ones they’d planned to watch when he’d gone into the hospital. Nodding his head toward them, he smirked a little. “Aren’t those a little overdue?”

“I said we were going to watch movies that night,” Itachi answered with a shrug. “I don’t lie.”

They spent the rest of the night curled up, watching one movie after another. By the time the last one spun itself out and the first light of dawn had cut the sky, they were asleep.

May 15th

The phone rang, and it was obnoxiously loud. But, being half-asleep as he was, he mistook the phone for the alarm clock and brought a pale hand down on that instead. All that accomplished was knocking the thing to the floor.

Finally, his brain engaged and he fumbled for the phone, grabbing it out of the cradle and thumbing the TALK button.

“It’s damn early,” he growled into the phone. “This had better be important.”

Graduation?

In half a second, Orochimaru was out of bed and fully awake. It registered that at some point he vaguely remembered Sasuke nuzzling against him, saying something about going somewhere, and then burrowing back into warmth and sleep, but ever since he’d taken leave from BioCon he’d been more inclined to sleep in. It felt good to wake up in a sun- and lover-warmed bed. “How much time?”

Enough.

“Thank you for the reminder,” he said, and then hung up. It was a drive to LA, and he needed all the time he could get.

By some chance, he made it just as the graduates were walking in, and sat down in one of the two empty seats in the row as though he was only fashionably late and had meant it all long. Of course he had.

Neji sent a pointed look at him. “You’re late,” he whispered.

“I noticed.”

“Where’s Sasuke?”

“He’ll be along.”

Neji scowled disapprovingly and turned to watch. Orochimaru had never liked graduation ceremonies; he found them too showy and optimistic. Perhaps he’d just grown chilly over the years.

The diplomas were given out alphabetically by last name, he discovered.

Somewhere between L and M, Sasuke sidled into the room and quickly took the last seat in the row. Several sets of identical glares shot his way, but he gracefully ignored all of them. They applauded politely (the students and some of the faculty who knew him cheered) when Itachi walked across the stage and took his diploma, looking very serious and accomplished. His Bar exam was set for later that month, and then pending his passing score he would be accepted as one of the team of lawyers that the newly-expanded Hyuuga Shipping Corporation, West Coast Branch, employed. His starting salary would be very generous indeed.

That evening, Itachi and Neji went out to a party thrown by some of the other graduates; Fugaku and Mikoto went back to Pasadena. And Orochimaru and Sasuke had their own private party at their house. The older man was a surprisingly skilled cook, and it had been far too long since they’d sat down like this and had dinner together. Their nights lately had been going out somewhere, clubbing (something Orochimaru found amusing despite the fact he was twice the age of most people there) or doing something else. The first week had been quiet, mostly, finalizing travel plans and getting life back on track.

When they’d finished cleaning up, it was late, and Sasuke murmured that he was going to bed. Watching him walk, Orochimaru smirked and put the last dishes into the dishwasher, started it, and followed him upstairs.


About a year after the whole thing had finished, after Neji had had his last checkup and after the remaining cases were cleared and the blood supply treated with a vaccine created from a gay man’s blood, Jiraiya sat outside an internet café in Rome. He loved Europe, and was delighted to know that his old friend had enjoyed his stay here as well—although he found it surprising that he’d made it out of the hotel room with the kid who seemed to be everything he’d ever wanted.

Nice to know Tsunade had found her spark again, too—he’d been worried for a long time about her. Her loss of faith had been long in coming, but he’d had some things to do and had to leave right when it was getting worse. And God knew Orochimaru was no help at all, wrapped up in his DNA and his lab coats and mad scientist trappings. They were an eccentric group, the three of them.

And that blond kid, Naruto—he had talent that his father hadn’t. His father knew people, sure, but Naruto could stir them up. His father had never been able to inspire—which was probably why Naruto had taken to that Hatake kid.

It was a big web, Jiraiya thought. Layers upon layers, each generation a copy of the next, but with corrections and changes. They were all connected, especially by this sickness that had threatened them all. And about that…

Chuckling to himself, the professional blogger logged into his blog service and wrote an entry he’d been thinking over for the past year, ever since he’d met the tight circle of friends and family that had been involved. Some things needed to be said.


And that’s how it was. Neji got stronger over time and when the fall semester started and he resumed a normal class load, no one but those involved would have never known he was sick. But a brush with death doesn’t always leave physical marks; more often than not, everything is purely mental. He graduated, went on to business school, and ended up heading the west coast division of the Hyuuga Shipping Company—proof that family traditions could be overcome.

Itachi passed his Bar with flying colors and became an outstanding lawyer, working out the details of policy with whomever the company needed him to, and taking on other cases when his services weren’t needed. About two years after the ordeal was over, he and Neji became partners for life. To this day, they wear simple silver bands on their left ring fingers.

Sasuke became a full police officer in record time. He took to it like a fish to water, finding his own fulfillment in administering justice and keeping the peace—both of which placated Fugaku, who upon Sasuke’s taking the oath as an officer said that he had two fine sons. Sasuke continued to race and breed his horses using the knowledge he’d learned on his trip to the Babolna stud, and Snakeskin Ranch became one of the premier Shagya Arabian studs outside of Hungary.

Orochimaru finished his research on the aging gene after returning to BioCon a much more relaxed and focused man. It turned out to disappoint in the areas of extending lifespans, but it provided valuable insights into the mechanisms of aging. He published a paper on it with Kabuto, and the two of them went around the world giving presentations. But never again did he forget a race or a holiday, and he was always home on time.

Tsunade continued her practice with new fervor, and helped sponsor Sakura through medical school. The pink-haired doctor moved to Japan to live with her boyfriend—and then husband—Sai, and opened her own practice. She e-mailed weekly.

Naruto and Hinata got married after they graduated, and Naruto moved back east with her. She got her teaching credential and became an elementary schoolteacher in New York; he became the mayor. When his term limit was reached he said he wasn’t done messing with the state just yet, and became governor.

So everyone lived happily ever after—as happily as can be expected, anyway. Everyone was healthy and had most of what they wanted, and everyone was loved in some way, and that was all that mattered.


Blog entry: Lotus
Posted by: in_sight
2007-7-7

What an auspicious date! Something good’s gonna happen to all of you today, I know it. You’ll get laid, you’ll find a $20 in your pocket, you’ll figure out the answer to a tough problem on your homework…

Or someone you love who’s in a coma will wake up.

Or someone will say “I’m sorry, I was wrong. May I have another chance?”

Or someone will say “I love you.”

Miracles happen every single day, I said once. All we have to do is pray hard enough—but that’s not just it. Prayer, hope; these are empty without hard work. And there are hundreds, thousands, millions of people who make miracles every day. And it’s never, ever who we expect, is it? We don’t expect miracles, nor should we, because more often the miracles we experience are helped along by people.

These people who make miracles are as normal as you or I. They have issues, they have mental problems and personality traits that are annoying; they make faces that are unacceptable in society; they fight with their loved ones. They’re pigheaded, strong-willed sonsabitches. Or just bitches, for the ladies. They’re not arriving on a magic carpet. They’re not galloping up on a white horse—unless you live somewhere that doesn’t use cars for transportation, or they don’t own a white Mustang. And they sure ain’t saints, but they deserve to be, for even though they often don’t realize it they do things that are so selfless and beautiful that it makes me want to cry.

They’re the people we take for granted. They’re always there, but you never really see them. They’re the strength behind your voice; they’re the little nudge that helps push you to do just that little bit better on your work. They’re the shoulder to cry on. We often take unfair advantage of these people, because they’re so selfless they’ll bend over backwards to help those they care about (they’ll whine about it, but they care for their friends).

Find these people. Tell them you appreciate what they do. And look for your miracle.