A/N: Today I went to uzumaki addiction. Very pretty art site;
you should try it. It's got really good variety couples-wise
(whoo, Ino x Naruto! XD). Then I checked out the link list and
pretty much died.
I've been locked in my room and scribbling off Naruto fics all
freaking day because of the art on just the first two or three
sites there. I have never typed this fast in my LIFE. And I
have NEVER wanted to learn Japanese more than when looking at
those comics. Excuse me while I go have a heart attack.
*hyperventilating* See, this is why, when you're bitching at
Sunfreak the Slow to update all you REALLY need to do is find a
good art site and push it at her. What can I say- I'm a visual
Warnings: shounen ai-ish, het-ish, threesome-ish.
Three is a strong number. Don't desert it. Don't pull away:
this is the best thing that has ever happened to you. You just
don't know it yet.
It's everywhere, you know. All your life, these things have
been coming at you. There are three stripes on each side of his
face (are they scars? how the hell did that happen to him
anyway?). There are three shades of green in her eyes (but
you're not supposed to notice that).
There are three of you here, together. Id, Ego, Superego. The
Instinct, the Control, the Morality.
You might be surprised to know that you are not the Control.
You are really anything but.
She is the Control. He is the Morality, laughable a thought as
that may seem.
You are the Id. Instinct, like quicksilver and mercury, who
jumps in headfirst and never really thinks things through at
all. Primitive and wild, with only one goal- like a starving
animal wanting nothing more than the sweet taste of blood.
You are one of three, and you can never forget that. You, who
were the loner, have been quite mercilessly drafted and dragged
kicking and screaming into the real world, where- surprise,
surprise- sometimes you have to get along with people. Isn't
that terrible? Having to deal with those bastards who dare to
care about you? And not just the face: but the soul beneath it,
the one you thought you'd locked up so well.
Well, guess what.
Oh, you tried, and you pushed people away and ignored those who
wouldn't be pushed and grew thorns around your heart, but it
didn't really work.
And now you have them to deal with.
Her. Flighty, flirty (and not very good at it, mind). Wears a
shell like yours, but not at all for the same reasons.
And him. Immature, overconfident (and can't back up his mouth).
You think he doesn't need a shell, but you're wrong.
You don't understand them at all.
But she is so afraid of being rejected that she'd never let
anyone see her soul. And he is so afraid of going unseen that
he screams what any other fool wouldn't even whisper.
The real problem, though, is that you know what's coming up.
You're going to be with them all the time; you're going to have
to talk to them and work with them and defend them and trust
them to watch your back. Two stupid kids who both annoy you to
the point of homicide, and they're going to be your teammates.
Worse, you're afraid they might grow on you. That they might
somehow worm their way into your affections.
What you don't know is, they already have. So slowly and slyly
they slipped in. A kiss. A look of adoration. Such wisps of
emotion have tangled themselves up in the ragged thorns of your
And someday, there will be more. Threads and bits of fabric,
all catching hold and wrapping you up tightly, until the thorns
are buried beneath them and your heart is safe from those who
might do it harm. And then the thorns will become useless and
drop off, and then . . .
Oh? Now you want to know?
Too bad- no one's telling.
Just remember: threes are important. Three stripes. Three
shades of green.
And the three of you.
But you already know that- even if your brain has yet to catch
up with your heart.
* finale *
. : three times three is . . . : .