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Epidemic by NayanRoo

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Table of Contents

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Chapter notes: Epidemic
Chapter 1: Find Your Way

Music:
–Clear the Area” – Imogen Heap
–Cold Flame” – Cirque du Soleil: Delirium
–Legend of the Ocean” – Samurai II
–Baddest Ruffest” – Backyard Dogs
–Free” – Dark New Day”
–Convalescent” – Dredg

I can’t stop, guys. 8D This is way too much fun. I have to thank the innumerable people who helped me pick majors and worked out details for everyone~ Without them, Naruto would be majoring in Slackerism and God knows what anyone else would be doing.

Disclaimers: I don’t own Naruto.
**
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.
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