Day 21: Lunch

[totallytheseme.livejournal.com]

Hikaru and Kaoru had been so caught up in their little game that they initially hadn't heard the intercom go off. The new "ding" system was far less jarring than the old SCREECH, and as such, wasn't as easily heard, even in a place as quiet as the library. All too soon, the nurses came to separate the twins and take them to the next activity--lunch.

It only felt like a few minutes since breakfast, somehow, and yet Hikaru was starved. The lunch selection was ridiculously Americanized food of the "Pan Asian" genre, as bad as when his family had wanted Japanese food in California and had gone to the "nicest" restaurant in the English language guidebook. He cringed visibly when the surly cafeteria worker poured sauce on his rice--which was supposed to be plain--but...food was food, and he wasn't feeling terribly picky right now. At least it smelled all right.

One of the good things about being the first one into the cafeteria was having his pick of the tables. Hikaru chose one of the larger ones, saving seats for Kaoru, Tamaki, and (in a fit of hopefulness) Haruhi.

He hoped they'd come soon. He hated being alone.

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[sasuke-of-sound.livejournal.com]

Sasuke knew the Sharingan's various abilities were weird -- to say the least -- but Naruto's expression still made him smirk.

"I'm a freak," he said, only half-malicious smirk still in place. "I'm not the one with a demon in my head giving me advice."

The old squinting expression made Sasuke feel strangely young and horribly old at the same time. It hadn't even been three years since he'd last seen it, and yet Konoha was a world's difference from Oto. It did seem like Naruto had swallowed the impossibility, which was a relief. Sasuke hadn't been relishing debating the issue.

"I woke up yesterday morning," he said. "Haku is the only other one I've recognised. I met another ninja last night, though."

The girl who reminded him of Naruto. They'd probably get along. What was her name? The 'President' had called her a variety of creatively incorrect names, and Sasuke had lost track of which one was the real thing.

Dumb book series ... ? Sasuke blinked, and then blinked again. Ah. Orochimaru had spoken of My former teammate's little hobby before, and Sasuke hadn't connected it to Kakashi's books until he'd seen Orochimaru snickering over a shelf of them in a Water Country bookstore.

"They want to start an endless war," he said briefly, adding to Gaara's and Naruto's easy explanation. Orochimaru wanted the same thing, which was why he'd been in Akatsuki in the first place, but his motivation was different from that of the other members, and he had conflicted with Itachi. At least, that was the version Sasuke had learned from the Sannin, after long pestering.

"As far as preparation," he said, turning to Gaara with a frown. "Akatsuki has existed for at least eight years. That's some kind of preparation. Do you remember anything of the extraction itself?"

[desertification.livejournal.com]

Gaara could not see the purpose of finding any particular ability to be strange, or anything to be normal. What was normal? It was interesting to observe the banter over something so arbitrary, so subjective. He tried the cookie and found it too sweet.

So the Uchiha had only been there one day longer. A day and night, rather, which was an awful long time for a genjutsu. Too long, as had already been established. The talk of a book series flew over his head. It meant nothing to him.

An endless war. Gaara nodded in recognition of, at least, the possibility. It certainly made sense. It was some kind of preparation, but perhaps they were dealing with extremely practical shinobi. It could even be another village of a sort--Orochimaru of Konoha had built his Otogakure, and that had taken quite some time.

To the Uchiha's question, Gaara could give little help. "I was unconscious," he reminded the Uchiha. But there was that memory of fading. It was hard to piece together. Gaara was certain that he had never woken up after the explosion, however. Not until this place.

The boxes on the walls pinged suddenly, sharply, piercing into conversation. That man spoke again. Music? Gaara had a sinking feeling that woman would be back to pester him again. "A waste of time," he stated, the obvious in blunt form. It made his hands curl with impatience, irritation that was necessarily stifled.