Sequel to Living with the Prankster. Ariel and I started a challenge. She wanted to write a story similar to my Prankster universe and… she just wanted me to write more.
Blame the Cake
Ugh, what time is it?
Itachi turned bleary eyes to the green glowing clock on the wall and had to wait for his sluggish mind to work for a moment. Analog. Why did it have to be analog? He blinked. Two-thirty?
A thud sounded from the hallway. Like a melon tapping on cement.
Carefully, Itachi eased himself up, feeling just a little light-headed. Maybe it was Akamaru. Kiba had asked them to watch his dog for a week. Something about repainting the apartment. Chemicals not being good for the pup. Couldn’t tell who was sadder, the dog or the man.
Another thud. Was that dog sleep walking? Why else would he walk into walls?
Itachi pulled the blankets away—when did he have beige covers?—and turned to the side. Rails? Why did his bed have metal rails? “What?”
Something tangled on the pillows and the sheets as he reached for the rail. Confused, the man frowned at the tubes running out of his left arm. An IV drip?
He reached for the tubes and somehow the world decided to turn clockwise and just a tad South.
Staring at the ceiling, one pillow on the floor, leaning precariously on a lowered metal railing, Itachi frowned again. Why couldn’t he feel his knees?
On the other side of the door there was a muffled yelp and a scraping noise. The door shook with a strong bang, but it held. Then the knob turned.
Uzumaki Naruto’s eyes were slightly wild as he rushed into the room. “Itachi! You okay?”
Itachi turned his head to look at the machines beside him and only then heard the beeps that accompanied his heart beat. The hospital. My roommate has put me in the hospital. There was a sense of resignation to that thought.
“Why—” the pale man broke off in a fit of coughing.
“Whoa!” The younger man lurched forward, grabbing at Itachi’s shoulders and thumping him on the back. “Easy dude!” Naruto’s warm hands helped the confused man back onto the cushions and straightened the blankets.
Itachi was faintly ashamed at how much effort it took to shove the excitable blond off him. Thankfully, the boy stood back as Itachi took in his surroundings with more awareness.
With the predictable result of the Uchiha glaring at Naruto expectantly.
“Uhm… You’re in the hospital.” The tanned young man rubbed his left shoulder and looked at the floor. “You fell down the stairs.”
Itachi frowned. Swallowing a few times, he whispered, “Stairs?”
“Yeah.” The blonde glanced up once, winced and looked at the machines as they beeped. “Thinking might be hard right now. They pumped you with some pretty hardcore drugs.”
“Dude…” Shift to the left. Shift to the right. Blond brows scrunched above blue eyes. Itachi noted that one eye was bloodshot, the other ringed by a dark bruise. “You really can’t feel that?”
“Your ribs man. Your whole side is cracked.”
Itachi’s head tilted to the side. Couldn’t feel a thing. His free hand patted at his side, but his roommate shook his head and pointed to the other. So he reached for his unexplored left side.
Which is exactly when a doctor walked into the room to see the Uchiha’s face pale as loose bones slid inwards with a grinding sensation that he distinctly could feel.
“Uchiha-san! Hands off the ribs!” the woman ordered as she rushed to the side of the bed. “Naruto!”
Firm hands pressed the stunned man back down to the bed and the woman spoke again in a softer tone. “You need to let those heal. The more you agitate them, the longer it will take.”
Itachi shook his head. “I don’t remember…”
“Stairs, Itachi,” Naruto murmured from the doorway, ignoring the look the brunette nurse gave him as she looked away from her charge.
“Naruto,” the doctor growled and the blond cringed.
Instead of backing out through the door completely, he looked at Itachi guiltily. “And maybe a drunk Lee,” he admitted very very quietly.
Rock Lee? Drunk? Crawling signals through the brain shuddered from the thought. There had been alcohol in the apartment that night, cases of it, but Lee knew better than to drink. Baked goods, junk food, but not…
“The cake?” That little?
Naruto dredged up a small smile. “Kisame’s rum cake was good.”
The woman, Shizune said the name tag, huffed and frowned at her patient before visually coming to a decision. “Naruto.” She turned and moved implacably towards the young man by the door, aggravation radiating off her stiff shoulders. “He needs to rest, which means no talking. Get out!”
“Er… Right!” Blinking, the kid waved his hands in the air and flashed a more genuine smile towards man with the broken ribs. “Happy birthday, dude!”
Itachi shut his eyes on the bright grin and groaned. If the bloody nuisance didn’t leave soon, he would help Shizune put the boy in traction, busted ribs or no.
Next year, celebrations will be me, Kisame, and the cake. No more friends of Naruto’s.
The depressing part was he was certain he had made a similar vow last year.
Prompt #7: Break My Bones