Unlucky

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Have I mentioned I don't own Naruto stuff? 'Cause I don't.

The Change

A burning fire raced through my body, surging with every movement. My vision was hazy, like a layer of film covered my eyes. Despite feeling like my insides had henged into a furnace, on the outside I was freezing. From the feel of it I had a layer of sweat covering my body, which was immensely uncomfortable in addition to everything else. I curled up under the futon's sheets, my breathing becoming harsher by the minute. There was this unbelievable strain on my body as it tried to withstand the pain, and it didn't even do anything to dampen the fire. If anything, it grew.

Minato had been up to something before, but the excruciating pain had overruled my instinct to find out what, as he wasn't being blatantly obvious. Now that my shirt was off and the sweat warmed by my body heat had grown cold in the frigid air I was colder than before and I completely blamed the blonde. In fact, I was beginning to convince myself all of the pain was his fault. Having something to internally curse at helped a little bit.

The bubble of agony grew larger and larger, something fanning the flames, and I began to clench my sides to try and distract myself with that lesser pain I could cause myself. But no matter what my attention was drawn back to it, as if my mind was subconsciously aware of the importance of this pain. As if it knew this was no sickness of any kind. Speculations buzzed through my mind, and I tried to distract myself with theories on what this could be. It didn't work. But then the bubble exceeded its limit in one last push and I knew no more.

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When I woke I felt something soft in my arms, and I assumed I had somehow ended up hugging my pillow after a night of twisting and turning in the nightmarish agony. Until I realized I could still clearly feel my pillow beneath my head.

I sat slowly, wary of the migraine that had yet to exit my head, and looked down to see what I had grabbed in my sleep. I yelped and scrambled backwards as if I could get away. Doing so I hit hard against the couch, making double sure Blondie would wake up.

"Hatake-san?"

Yep, there he is.

I hugged myself tightly, bring my knees up for extra protection. I dared not turn my silver-haired head around. My eyes practically burned holes in the ground with the strength of my glare, my mind focusing on the unfairness of it all. Behind me I heard Blondie pushing off his blankets and sitting up, but I still dared not turn around to look. It was like a nightmare pressing down on me, and if I had been a lesser... man, I might have cried.

"Hatake-san, are you all right?" came Minato's worried voice. I really hated him right then. His hand landed on my bare shoulder; I tensed all of my muscles in response. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked gently. I continued to refuse any part of me saying to just turn around and get it over with. In fact, I was seriously considering flash stepping to the bathroom and locking myself in.

The dreaded inevitable came to pass. Blondie stood from his - or at least what I assumed was his - sitting position on the couch and slowly but surely made his way to my front. I steadfastly kept my knees-and-arms-to-chest stance, attempting to completely disregard his presence. This was doing wonders for my denial skills.

"Hatake-san?" Minato questioned again in that irritatingly concerned tone of his. If anything, I sank into myself deeper. "Kakashi," he finally said firmly after what I'm sure was a long awkward moment for him. "What is wrong?" This time the tone was definitely no-nonsense. I stubbornly stayed silent.

The next thing I knew forceful hands were prying my limbs apart. I did my best to have muscles of steel, but Blondie turned out to be stronger than me. I considered screaming rape, but it probably wouldn't help any. Not too many do-gooders roamed this part of Konoha. A sigh gusted airily across my lips as it finally happened. My last defense - namely my arms - was broken down and my chest lay for the world to see. And don't even talk to me about being dramatic. This was traumatic. Point closed.