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angelinasway · 3 years ago

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Regaining Hope

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Sexual Assault Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever. Authors Notes: Thank you all so much for being so very supportive. You guys have been absolutely wonderful. Seriously I couldn't ask for a better group of readers. I need to warn you all that this chapter has quite the graphic and gruesome scene in it, so if that's not your thing I highly recommend skipping the part where Clark starts to watch the video. Some major questions answered here. Hope you all enjoy, and keep the reviews coming. Special thanks to my ever amazing beta Hipkarma. She always helps and inspires me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Chapter Eight

Dawn smirked as she saw the caller ID flash. So, Buffy had talked to Wes. That was good. She really didn’t want to have to break into the Watchers Council just because she was nosy and worried for her sister. Buffy hadn’t told her much when they talked yesterday, just that there was some sort of prophecy about her and this Clark guy, which just raised all sorts of red flags for her. Dawn had insisted on seeing a copy of the prophecy and her hackles raised even more when she found out how quiet Wes and Willow were trying to keep this. Looks like big sis came through however, and now it was time to give the man on the other line hell for keeping something this important from her.

“Xand, honey, can you take Abby? Wes is on the phone and it’s time for her nap anyway.” Dawn said, reaching for the phone.

“No!” Her one and a half your old screeched at the top of her lungs, making Dawn cringe. When they coined the phrase, ‘children are your parents secret revenge,’ they weren’t lying. Abigail was just like her too, even in looks.

Xander came out of their shared office, a crooked and amused smile on his lips. “You should know by now not to say that word in front of her,” He said, kissing Dawn on the forehead before reaching out and swooping up their toddler. “Come on Abby,” he said as Dawn answered her call. “Daddy will read you your favorite story.”

“Try to get Joyce down too,” She added, before saying into the phone, “Hello Wes, so good of you to finally call me.”

She heard the groan on the other end of the line and smiled. “How much do you know?”

“That there’s a prophecy about my sister and some uber-powerful guy she’s been spending time with, on your instruction I might add.” Dawn said in a mockingly sweet voice.

She heard him sigh. “Yes, that is all true. Look Dawn, I’m going to send you a copy of the prophecy through your secure fax now. We’ve been able to translate some of it, but there are certain areas where…I don’t think the language is of this world. It’s nothing like we’ve ever seen in any human or demon writings before.”

Dawn got up and walked into the office, a frown on her face. “You mean like interdimensional, there’s gotta be a reference somewhere Wes.”

There was silence over the line and for a second and she thought Wes had hung up. She’d just opened her mouth to see if he was still there, when he finally said, “No Dawn, that’s not what I meant at all.”

Her frown deepened as the first page spat out of the machine. She slid it off the rack and looked at the prophecy. There were several different languages written on the copy, Etruscan, Ancient Sumerian, Ancient Greek, and Latin. At the top were strange symbols unlike anything she’d ever seen before, almost flowing together like cursive. The next page that came out was Wesley and Willow’s translation of that page. She bit her lip, walking over to her desk and went to work making sure what they had translated so far was correct.

“So,” she began casually, “what I’m getting from the first page is that this guy is much farther from home than just another dimension.” She paused, huffing in annoyance as she snootily added,” It was Sun God by the way, not Star God.” She sighed. “Who are you using anyway, Basile?”

“Vonten,” He answered and Dawn rolled her eyes. Of course, he was using that moron’s guide.

“Vonten is an arrogant prick Wes, that book confuses people more than it helps. Burn it, it’s better as kindling. Bachman is the best at Etruscan and Ancient Sumerian, and you already know Ancient Greek and Latin enough not to need a reference.” She said, before frowning as she came to the part about the soulbond. “Wes, what the hell is a soulbond, and why is this referencing my sister and Mr. E.T. having one?”

As Wesley began to explain what they knew so far, Dawn's face began to pale. Oh, this was not of the good. Buffy was gonna wig to the nth degree when she found out.

"Does she know any of this?" Dawn asked, turning around and grabbing more of the pages that were still spitting out of her printer.

"She knows about the bond. I told her this morning." He answered.

"And what, you’re waiting until she gets pregnant before you tell her the rest?" Dawn asked angrily. "You know this is gonna freak her out..."

"Which is why I decided not to tell her." Wes interrupted.

"If you'd let me finish," Dawn snapped, slamming her hand on the desk. "I was going to say this is gonna freak her out, but it would be better if you tell her now." She huffed in frustration. "This just proves how little you guys know my sister. She absolutely will freak and she'll probably fight it at first. Just the idea of her own children having to live the life she has, is not gonna be a happy, joyous moment for her. She's already worried that Joyce or Abby, or maybe even both will be called one day.” Dawn said, before emphasizing her next words, "However, my sister is not stupid, and when push comes to shove, she'll make the right decision like she always does. I get that you’re worried about the Slayer line Wes, we all are, but keeping this from her is not the right way to go about it.”

She heard Wes’s sigh, “I realize that Dawn, but with the bond itself needing to be fulfilled, I thought that was more than enough for both of them to handle at this time.”

Dawn looked at the pages covered in the strange flowing script, similar to the symbols on the first page. Wes was right, it was a language. "We need to find a way to translate this. Do you think this is Clark's language from his home world?"

The line was silent for a moment, before he said in annoyance, “Yes, that’s what I meant when I said I don’t think the language is of this world.”

“Do you think Clark knows how to read it?” Dawn asked.

A sigh came over the line, “I honestly don’t know. I believe he just discovered where he came from, so I don’t see how he could.” He paused in thought and then murmured to himself, “But even if he can’t, perhaps the ship has a historical archive or maybe there is some form of AI technology that could translate it for us.”

Dawn frowned, “What ship?”

As Wesley explained how Buffy and Clark met and the danger Buffy had recklessly put herself in, Dawn found her ire sparking at Buffy’s stupidity. “I’m gonna kill her!” Dawn growled. “She hasn’t done something that reckless since Joyce was born. God fucking dammit, she promised me!”

Wesley sighed. “In her defense, it could have very well been her fate that made her act so rashly.” He paused before saying, “In any case, Clark was there and according to Buffy, he saved her and watched over her after she went into a healing sleep.”

Dawn was quiet as she processed that information. So, she didn’t die, which meant Buffy actively tried to stop it from happening. That was good, she was still getting smacked when Dawn saw her, but at least she hadn’t completely broken her promise from three and a half years ago. It was also good to see that this godlike Champion the prophecy spoke of wasn’t just a creature with a penchant for destruction playing at being a white hat because of a curse. That was a nice change.

“What else do you know about him?” Dawn asked. “I’m assuming you started trying to find him as soon as you started translating this.”

“Well,” Wesley began, “We first caught wind of a possible candidate about a year ago. We’d been monitoring airwave chatter for possible beings with superhuman strength when we caught a lead. A distress call came in about an oil rig off the coast of Canada in flames and about to explode. In that communication there was talk of a man rescuing the crew members aboard the rig and preventing the tower from collapsing on the rescue helicopter with his bare hands.” He paused for a moment, before saying. “We managed to find a few other incidents of him saving people, one that happened when he was thirteen. According to the incident report, his school bus went off a bridge and into the river. Three witnesses stated that a young Clark Kent managed to push the bus out of the water and rescue his classmate.”

Dawn whistled, “So this guy really is the real deal white knight, huh?”

“It would appear so.” He sighed.

“Wes we’re gonna need to access that ship.” Dawn said, looking over a small section of Sumerian that talked about a trial of choice. The rest of the page was in the alien script however, so any clue as to what that meant was beyond her.

“I know,” Wesley agreed.

“Which means, we’re gonna have to tell Buffy and Clark everything.” Dawn reiterated.

She heard Wesley groan, but he conceded nonetheless. “Alright fine, Willow needs to bring them some pendants to stave off the worst of the compulsion the bond is creating. I’ll have her stop by and get you on her way, unless you want me to tell Buffy myself, that is.”

Dawn shook her head, “No, no. I think it will be safer for everyone if I’m the one to do it.” Then she bit her lip in thought, “And don’t bother with Willow, just call me when she gets back. I think I need to do this one on my own.”

“Very well,” Wes agreed. “Willow should be finished within the next few hours. I’ll call you as soon as I know she’s returned.”

“Alright, in the meantime I’m gonna go over this and make sure all the parts I can read are translated correctly.” Dawn said, adding, "Talk in a few," before hanging up.

She sighed, rubbing her fingers along her forehead. "Well fuck," she muttered to herself.

"Everything alright?" Xander asked, coming into the office.

"No, not really," she answered handing him the translated first page of the prophecy.

She watched his eye scan the words before he blew out a breath. "So, this guys an alien?"

"Looks like." She answered.

Xander snorted, "Man the Buffster really knows how to pick 'em, doesn't she?"

Dawn mock glared, before she couldn't contain her amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, you know Buffy. She doesn't do anything by halves."

****<S>**<S>****

As Clark followed Buffy down the hallway, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He knew she had been trying to reassure him, but her words only had the opposite effect. Were they only feeling any of what they were because of the prophecy and furthermore, given the choice, would she even choose him? She had basically confessed to falling in love with her best friend. The history they had both shared, as disturbing as it was, was an important one to her. She had cared very deeply for this man. How could he ever live up to the memory of a man who had essentially changed a piece of himself for her? Part of him wanted to erase Spike’s memory from her mind, to do whatever he could to drive this man, this demon from her past and another part of him just felt wholly lost. He didn’t want to be anyone’s second best and he certainly didn’t want her to want him only because some guy thousands of years ago decided they were destined. God, he wished his dad was still alive. This would definitely be the type of thing his dad could help him through.

She stopped at a large set of double doors and turned, catching his expression before he had time to school it into a much more neutral one. She blinked in surprise, "Clark...what’s wrong?"

He shook his head, “It’s nothing Buffy.”

Her frown deepened, “Oh no, you definitely have something face. Talk to me. I promise whatever it is, I’ll try to understand.”

Clark shifted uncomfortably, before finally admitting, “I’m just feeling a little unsure about all this.”

Her eyes widened slightly, “Because of Spike?”

Clark sighed, “Well I mean think about it Buffy. You basically told me that you fell in love with your best friend and were willing to marry him for eternity, but the only reason you didn’t is because you were too scared. Would you even look twice at me if he was here now? Are the feelings I’m having for you even real, or is this just destiny trying to force us together?”

Realization flooded her expression, and she quickly shook her head. “I can’t speak for what-ifs, because I would be lying if I answered that either way…” She swallowed, “As for how you’re feeling, I’ve been under love spells before and granted you usually don’t know you’re under one when you are, but if the feeling’s part was being fabricated, we…we wouldn’t be able to fight this like we are. We would have probably already slept together.” She blushed, looking down. “Fabricated feelings they’re false obviously, but they’re very strong…strong enough to make people dangerous. If what we were feeling was a manifestation, you wouldn’t have these doubts Clark, you wouldn’t even realize there was doubts to be had.” She met his eyes then, her expression serious and stoic. “And as for the fear part, I didn’t want to get into it because…” She sighed again. “You remember how I told you that Angelus showed up right when I was starting to get my life back together?”

Clark nodded, “I remember.”

“Well, what I didn’t say is that I was planning on retiring.” She rolled her eyes, “I had this grand plan of going back to school and getting a degree in Art History and moving to Hawaii to open a gallery.” She shook her head, “It was stupid, I know.”

He immediately shook his head, “That doesn’t sound stupid at all.”

Buffy blushed. “I just mean it was stupid that I ever thought it could happen.” She shook her head, “Anyway, I started training a girl named Rayanne when we were first getting the new Watchers Council on its feet. She was bright, witty, resourceful and she already had the makings of someone who could be an excellent leader.” She looked at her feet, her hands clenching. “Me and Giles had agreed, in three-years-time, when Ray was eighteen, she would step in and fill my shoes. Faith didn’t want the position and the only other possible candidate that actually did, I flat out refused due to her inability to get along with just about anyone but Willow. I mentored Ray for over a year and she became…well, like a little sister to me. After the whole General Voll fiasco, I was ready to promote her to Senior Slayer status. She had been on it more than any other girl at the compound, helpful and demanding when need be. She’d fought through a horde of zombies and we came out of it with zero losses. The attack was completely unexpected and if she hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done.” She met his eyes, “I was so proud of her.” Buffy sighed, “A few months later is when the first girl, Alicia went missing, and by the time Ray disappeared, there were already six that seemed to have just dropped off the planet.” She swallowed, “Angelus revealed himself and killed Giles a few weeks later, and almost three weeks after is when we found Alicia. She was the first and youngest to go missing and she was the first he dropped on our doorstep.” Buffy shook her head squeezing her eyes shut, “I knew what he was doing to Rayanne then, and that she would probably get the worst of it because of her association with me. Alicia was just a taste of what Angelus was capable of.” She opened her eyes, meeting his. “I wanted to have Spike claim me so we would be strong enough to save her and the rest of them, and I was scared because I knew I’d be asking for the wrong reasons. I was afraid Spike would know it too and I would only hurt him by asking. Does that make sense?”

It was Clark’s turn to avert his eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly.

She pulled out her phone and began to scroll through it, “Well just in case you have any doubts…” She swallowed, “I don’t even know why I kept this. Angelus loved tormenting me and we didn’t know it at the time but there were several Watchers from the old regime who were very unhappy with the way we were running things. Some of them made deals with Angelus, gave out my email and phone number and my location.” She looked at him, her lips pursed in anger. “One of them would even take video or pictures, documenting my pain for him when he couldn’t be there hiding in the shadows to see it.” She handed him her phone, “I’ve never watched this one, it’s the morning I found Rayanne, he saved her for last. I don’t need to see it, I lived it.” She nodded at her phone, “When he sent it, I didn’t even open it. I just dropped it in an archive and it’s been there ever since.” She shook her head, “I highly recommend only opening the third video file, the one that says, ‘Are you broken yet?’ She met his eyes then, “The first two will be what he did to her. So, unless you feel like throwing up, I would skip those.” She gestured with her chin at the double doors. “I’ll be in there beating on a bag, meet me when you’re done.”

She turned without another word and went through the double doors not looking back. Clark looked down at the phone swallowing heavily, before opening the file. The video began with the image of the front of a house, not unlike the one they were in now, except there was a large tree in front and something very obviously dangling from it. It looked to be sometime in the middle of the night or perhaps early morning, but he couldn't tell either way due to the lights on the house illuminating everything.

The person carrying the camera ran towards the house and a refined British voice in distress yelled, "Ms. Summers, come quickly. I think it may be Miss Stevenson."

The front door flew open and there she was, except she looked nothing like she did now, her eyes were wild, feral even, and she was so pale and sucked up. She looked hollow, worn-down, nothing like the girl he’d spent the last couple of days getting to know. The scream that tore from her lips and the look on her face when she saw what was hanging from the tree, tore through him like a tidal wave of emotion. Clark felt himself growing angry at the Watcher, who was obviously playing both sides. Another man with bleached hair and nothing on but a pair of black jeans came flying through the door next, his eyes wild and worried.

The camera panned and followed Buffy as she ran out to the tree, falling to her knees and screaming again. Clark saw what was in the tree then and his stomach almost rebelled right then and there. It was a young girl, no older than sixteen and the only skin left on her body was on her beautiful face and near her pelvic region. The girl’s expression was frozen in a horrified scream that no one who cared ever had the chance to hear. A large white sheet wrapped itself tightly around the girl’s wrists and tied over the lowest branch, the excess linen draping behind the dead girl as some sort of sick backdrop silhouette for the body hanging lifelessly from the tree. There was hardly any blood to speak of, just a pinkish residue from where the body had touched the clean white linen, which told Clark she had been dead for more than a few hours. It wouldn’t be visible to a human through the recording, but because of his enhanced vision Clark could even see puncture wounds in places and deep gashes from where the girl had been restrained.

The blond man came into the picture then and the Watcher came towards them, circling around so he could see Buffy’s expression, or at least that’s what he assumed the person with the camera was doing. Buffy's mouth was open in silent gulping sobs, giant tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Love,” The blond man whispered in an apparent British accent not nearly as refined as the Watchers Clark had heard so far. The man fell to his knees behind her looking up at the tree. He shuddered as tears sprang to his electric blue eyes. “Don’t look Buffy…please kitten, please go back in the house.”

The man placed his hand on her shoulder, and Buffy turned at the gesture and Clark could no longer see her face as she flung herself into the man’s arms and began to sob harder. “It’s Ray,” she howled. “Oh god, it’s Ray.”

“Shh,” The blond man hushed, rubbing hands along her back in a comforting gesture. “I know,” He choked. “I know, love.”

“We…we can’t leave her like that.” She sobbed. “I-I have to get her down.”

Clark watched the blond man close his eyes and shake his head, “I’ll do it. Go back in the house, please Slayer.”

“No,” Buffy shook her head as Clark caught the silhouette of another man flying from the house and over to them. The sound of retching could be heard, and it took Clark a second to realize the sound came from whomever had just come from the house and seen the body. “It has to be me. Don’t you see, don’t you get it? I knew,” she sobbed. “I knew what he was doing to her and I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, sweet girl, you’ve been trying to find her. We all have. This isn’t your fault.” The man choked.

“It’s not good enough,” She screamed, shoving away from him and falling on her rear, “And it is my fault, all of it! They were called because of me, because I was too chicken shit to just except the power that was offered to me!”

A sob broke from her lips, and she turned looking directly at the cameraman a sudden realization dawning in her hollow eyes. “You!” She snarled, her eyes flashing. “It’s you, isn’t it?” She started marching towards the cameraman.

“Ms.…Ms. Summers,” Whomever was holding the camera stuttered and then she was there, a well-aimed kick flying towards the camera before Clark saw sky for a few seconds.

“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” She screamed suddenly hovering over the man, the wild fury in her eyes telling Clark that she had every intention of killing this man, and part of Clark couldn’t agree more. “No one else but an Angelus minion would have called me out here for Rayanne! Everyone else would know better!”

Clark watched as she threw a punch, the sickening sound of cartilage breaking ringing through the speaker as the guy howled in pain. The way her arms were angled next and the gurgling sound through the phone told him she was choking the man before three sets of arms suddenly grabbed her, pulling her off. Clark could hear the man wheeze as he tried to catch his breath while Buffy screamed and fought the three people who had pulled her away. Faith was one of them, and then the blond man, which Clark was pretty sure by now was Spike, and another man, tall, brunet, with an eyepatch. He saw Willow in the distance coming towards them and when she reached them, she touched Buffy’s shoulder before she could react and muttered a few words that sounded like Latin. Buffy suddenly collapsed and Clark realized Willow had put her to sleep. All eyes then turned towards the cameraman.

“Get her in the house, Xander.” Spike growled.

“Uh, Spike–” Xander started to say when Spike turned on him.

“Get her in the bloody fucking house, now!” He snarled, a sound like grinding bone emanating from the man as his voice altered to something more sinister. “I’m not going to kill him.” He said turning back towards the camera as two glowing amber eyes stared at Clark.

“Speak for yourself,” Faith said marching towards the man. “I’ve been getting those fucking emails too.”

“So have I,” Willow said, her eyes black as she stared the camera down.

“We won’t have to kill him,” Spike clarified as he fell in step with Faith. “Angelus will do that for us.”

“How you figure?” Faith asked, her eyes just as enraged as Buffy’s had been.

Spike suddenly sprung forward, his arm reaching out and a ripping sound emanated as the man screamed. His hand came back with what looked like a wad of hair. “This enough Red?”

“Plenty,” Willow said, sudden realization dawning in her black eyes.

“Now,” Spike said, a sinister grin stretching his fanged mouth, to the whimpering man. “The way I figure it, you got three options. The first being, you can go back to Angelus and give him this tape, at which point he finds out we now have a way to track you, and oh trust me Marcus, he will most definitely kill you for that.” Clark heard the man begin to sob, and part of him wanted to turn off the video at that point but couldn’t look away at the furious amber eyes that stared back at the camera. “Option number two, you can destroy the tape and run, which if we’re being honest would be the preferable of the three, but I’m sure you are well aware of the kind of wrath he would bring down on you if he didn’t get to see his almost masterpiece complete, so I’m sure you won’t.” Spike’s hand suddenly flew forward and the man screamed in pain, “Or option three,” He growled, “Where you run like a coward and keep the tape for leverage, hoping that your usefulness hasn’t run its course.”

He suddenly had the camera in his hands, staring directly into the screen his eyes burning into the lens. “Looks like your mole got ousted. This is your last one, Angelus. We’re coming for you and when we’re done there won’t be anything left.” The screen suddenly went black as the video cut off.

Clark let out a trembling breath looking around him and realizing he had slid to the floor at some point, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he didn’t know, he didn’t understand until that moment. That poor girl, no wonder Buffy was desperate. How many girls did she find like that before this one was left for her? How many videos did she force herself to endure before this one was sent, even Faith and Willow had said this wasn’t the first one? Clark squeezed his eyes shut, she had told him, so had Gunn but to see it. She was driven half-crazy by what that vampire had done and he could not blame her for that. What would he do if it was his mother in that position? God, he could only imagine.

He shakily got to his feet, listening as he heard the sound of a fist hitting leather, he walked to the doors and threw them open, not stopping when she paused to look at him. He had to reassure himself that she was okay, that she wasn’t that angry creature that he saw in the video. He went straight to her, his arms coming around her in a crushing embrace before his lips met hers. God, she was so strong, he didn’t realize how much until that moment. Buffy immediately melted into him, her lips parting for him as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She was such a small woman, everything about her was deceptively tiny, except her strength and fortitude both physically and emotionally. To go through what she had and still be able to function on a normal level was just short of a miracle.

He pulled away and looked down into her green eyes, haunted by her past but not dead and hateful like in the video. He bent down and laid his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “I…” He started, “I didn’t…I’m so sorry Buffy.” He whispered, and he could still feel himself trembling. “I didn’t… You hear words like torture, rape, and murder but–”

“They’re not real until you see it for yourself.” She finished in understanding.

Clark sighed, hugging her closely, her head resting against his chest. “I get it now, not…but I understand how desperate you must have been to try and save the girls from that.”

He heard her sniffle, “I didn’t know what else to do. I watched all the others you know, even…even what he did to them. It was my fault, you see; those girls lost their lives because they had a connection to me.” She shook her head, “If they hadn’t been called, they would still be alive today.”

Clark pulled away and used his hand to raise her chin so he could see her eyes, “You blame yourself for every one of them that dies no matter how it happens, don’t you?”

She closed her eyes a shuddering breath hissing through her lips, before she opened them, meeting his gaze head on. “How can I not?”

He sighed, hugging her close again and shook his head. He had no response to that; he didn’t think she should. He didn’t think it was healthy, but he didn’t want to get in an argument about it with her right now either.

They stayed like that for a little while before she whispered, “You’re shaking.”

Clark nodded. “I know, the video…I’m still upset.”

She pulled away, meeting his eyes again. “Do you want me to show you how to throw a punch properly? The heavy bags have been warded well, we can start there.” She looked down, “It will…it will help relieve some of what you’re feeling at least.”

“Yeah,” He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, okay.”

****<S>**<S>****

To say Clark was a fast learner when it came to training would have been the understatement of the year. He was an absolute natural. He moved with precision and grace, sometimes striking so fast she almost didn't see him move.

As of now she was simply holding the bag for him as he got comfortable with the rhythm of landing punches and even with the wards on the bag, she could feel the impact of his strikes. At this rate she would need her suit within a few days to let him get the feel of fighting a moving target. At some point she might even bring him back to Cleveland to put him up against multiple fighters and see how he did.

"Remember to move your feet,” She reminded. "A moving target is harder to hit."

He nodded, bounced on the balls of his feet and struck, the impact of the punch making her bones rattle. "Whoa, nice one Clark." She laughed, "Felt that one in my toes."

He grinned, striking the bag again harder. "You were right," he said casually in between punches. "This does help."

She grinned, "Nothing like getting your aggression out with a bit of violence." And then she blushed, smirking, "Well almost nothing."

He chuckled as he threw a few more punches in quick succession, his own smirk forming on his lips. He had a mischievous look in his eyes and had just opened his mouth to comment when Buffy’s phone rang.

Buffy sighed, releasing the bag. "That will either be Wes or Willow."

It was now around three in the afternoon; Clark had told her he had to pick his mom up at six and it was an hour drive to Smallville from where they were. So, she was grateful that they were going to be able to get this taken care of before meeting his mom.

Buffy walked over to her phone and answered. "Hey Wes," she said in greeting. "What's the haps?"

He was silent for a moment and she could almost hear him roll his eyes at her butchering of the English language. "Willow," He began, "should be there shortly. Dawn would also like to see you. I told her I would call her once Willow was done securing the pendants."

Buffy frowned, “What? Why?”

“Dawn and I have come to the conclusion that one of the languages in the prophecy that I have been unable to identify, is most likely written in the script of Clark’s home world.” He paused, “We are going to need access to the ship, unless of course Clark can read it.”

Buffy looked at Clark and raised an eyebrow, but he quickly shook his head. “Only a few words,” He confirmed. “I think the computer on the ship might be able to translate it though.”

“That’s a negative, Wes,” Buffy answered, beginning to pace. “But he agrees that the computer on the ship should be able to do the job.”

“Very well, I’ll inform Dawn to dress accordingly. The ship is still in the same location I presume?” He asked.

“Whoa,” Buffy said halting her steps, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want us to go tonight? Clark has to pick up his mom from work, Wes.”

“I think it would be for the best. The sooner we get this prophecy translated, the better.” He paused. “Lorne told me I needed to send out more Slayers to India, Kansas, and Metropolis within the next two weeks and I would very much like to know if I should be sending two or a few hundred. If this prophecy gives any indication of what’s to come, I would very much like to know what it is.”

Buffy and Clark exchanged worried looks. “He only told me something was coming for Clark, and we’re gonna need all hands-on deck when it does.”

Buffy watched Clark swallow nervously. “He told me my time for hiding was almost up, but he said it was in the coming month.” His eyes widened in realization. “We need to translate that prophecy.”

Buffy nodded in agreement, “And I need to train you harder than just beating on a bag, which means it’s gonna be eight-hour days from here on out.” Clark opened his mouth to argue and she held up her hand, “We’ll get as much as we need to do in the mornings done, but if for whatever reason we can’t, I would loan you the money before I would let you lose your home.”

Clark frowned, “Buffy–”

“Take it from someone who knows what those kinda money troubles feel like,” She interrupted again. “I think in the scheme of things saving the world is a little more important than pride, don’t you?”

His frown deepened. “You think it’s going to be that big?”

“Lorne said all hands-on deck and it’s you. Someone coming after you has got to be as powerful, if not more.” She watched his face fall and reached out her hand out running it down his arm, “You’ll be ready, and now that we have a general idea of where this stuff might take place, we’ll all be even more prepared.”

“Wes,” she said, addressing the Watcher once more. “Were gonna need Willow to keep close, and I would call Illyria back from Cairo.”

“I agree,” Wesley said, just as a portal opened up and Willow walked through. Her smile melting away at the look on both Buffy and Clark’s faces.

“Uh-oh,” Willow said nervously. “I know that face.”

“Is that Willow?” Wesley asked over the line.

“Yeah,” Buffy said.

“Let me speak with her, please.”

Buffy held out the phone to Willow, who frowned but took it anyway. “Hey Wes,” Willow said in greeting as Buffy walked over to where Clark was standing looking more than a little worried.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

He attempted to smile but he couldn’t pull it off. “Hey, yourself.”

She bit her lip watching him, seeing the turmoil play across his face of having an unknown enemy out there that could be responsible for hurting others when they decided to rear their ugly heads. She didn’t blame him, if she needed to pull out her big guns as Lorne hinted then it could definitely get bad. She was optimistic however, because of what she’d had to face in her past. Clark didn’t have that same luxury.

“I-I know you’re not exactly used to going up against big bads, or having to fight gods,” she started. “But I promise you Clark, no matter what it is we’ll deal with it together. Tonight, I’ll have my sister meet us at your place and we’ll go to the ship and find out what this prophecy says. Whatever’s coming, we’ll deal. I promise you; we won’t lose.”

“How do you know?” He asked, a bit of hope showing in his eyes.

She stared at him seriously, “Because I don’t lose when it’s the world.”

His lips quirked slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something when Willow walked up to them. “Wes wants me to fit you for a suit,” She said to Clark, handing Buffy her phone before saying, “And, he wants to talk to you.”

As Buffy reached for the phone Clark said, “I already have a suit and it’s Kryptonian.”

Both Buffy and Willow blinked in surprise at his words, their voices ringing out in unison. “You do?”

He nodded, “Yeah, it’s on the ship still, but I have one.”

Willow smiled, “Well then, that’s gonna make this quicker. Can you bring it to me? I can enhance it with magic, add some safety features and protect you against the mystical.”

“Will that still work, even if the material isn’t of Earth?” He asked.

“Yeah Wes,” Buffy finally said into her phone, pulling herself away from the conversation. So, Clark already had a suit, she wondered what it looked like.

“So, for the time being I’m going to send fifty Slayers to each location, but keep the others on standby incase things go pear-shaped.” He said, already planning ahead. “I’ll also be moving quite a few closer to all three locations, that way all the girls have backup nearby. I think Willow should stay there at the safehouse that way she’s not far from either of you.”

“And Dawn, Xander, and the kids? They live in Metropolis after all.” Buffy asked.

“Perhaps you should explain the situation to her when she gets there. Staying there at the safe house with Willow might also be a wise move for them.” Wes said, adding, “As well as a few Slayers. I know Faith’s been itching to get out of Cleveland for a mission, maybe she and a few of the other girls should accompany her.”

“Just as long as it’s not Tanya, that girl’s a liability and she doesn’t listen to anyone.” Buffy said.

“I concur,” Wesley agreed. “Only the girls who are focused and dedicated will be allowed to participate in this mission. I would like as little casualties as possible.”

“I agree,” Buffy nodded, “What about the mystics, how many of those can we tap?”

“I have sixty-eight on file, I’ll start making phone calls now.” He sighed. “I’m just glad we have this much to go on.”

“Me too,” Buffy agreed. “I’ll call Dawn when Willow gets done here and tell her where to meet us and to put on her suit and a warm hat.”

“Very well,” he said. “Call me when you know more and I’ll begin the preparations.”

Buffy hung up, walking back over to Willow and Clark as they spoke to each other a bit awkwardly. “So, let’s get this over with Wills.”

Willow quickly nodded opening a small bag she brought with her. “So,” she said quickly. “These were a bit difficult to make since from what we’ve read the compulsion itself seems to be based purely on hormones as well as a need to unite your souls.” She looked at them both, “It took me a little while to find what I needed and even longer to put the spell together.” She sighed, “The pendants themselves will be made out of several crystals used to block compulsion, amethyst, ametrine, chrysocolla, and ruby.”

Willow pulled out two small corked vials filled with multicolored stones and handed them to both Buffy and Clark. “Now, hold out your hands and link your free ones together.”

Buffy and Clark did as she asked, holding their hands out palm up. Willow placed a vial in each of their hands and then covered them with her own hands, closing her eyes and beginning to chant. Buffy immediately began to feel her hand heat up and for a second it almost became unbearable and Buffy even watched Clark wince from the heat. It was gone just as quickly however and in its place were two hard looking marble like multicolored stones with a dark metallic chain that would hang from each of their necks. Buffy heard Willow mutter one more spell that she recognized to be a ward against breaking.

“Well go on.” Willow said smiling happily at her work. “Try them on, see if it worked.”

Buffy quickly slipped the necklace over her head and a sigh of relief left her lips. The sexual tension that had never fully abated her all day finally easing enough to where she wasn’t thinking about sex every few seconds.

Clark had a similar reaction, his face seeming to ease slightly, but Buffy was surprised when he turned to Willow and asked, “You said the compulsion is only based on hormones, does that mean any feeling we have that aren’t sexual are real?”

Willow nodded, “Of course, real love is something that can only be based off of free will. Its why love spells don’t ever work. You can’t force someone to love you.”

Buffy watched amused as Clark seemed to sigh in relief, and then quickly blushed when he noticed her watching him. “Come on stud,” she said hooking her arm through his and dragging him towards the door of the training room. “Let me go grab my stuff before we go get your mom,” a grin creeping over her face as she turned and wished Willow a good night and a promise to catch up tomorrow. “And for the record”, she added quietly as they walked out of the training room. “I still want to jump you, that hasn’t changed even with the necklace on.”

He quickly reached out to grab her arm, but she easily dodged him and took off down the hallway, a blush and a giggle leaving her lips.

Clark was suddenly there in front of her, a crooked and devilish smile on his lips. “Is that so?” And then his lips were on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth as she squealed in surprise.

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sasusakufestival · 8 years ago

Text

Cooties

Summary: As the years inch by, the competition between them becomes more and more apparent. It’s entirely good-natured on Sakura’s side, but the same can definitely not be said for Sasuke. He is as intense in his dislike of her as he is in his love for his brother and parents. [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 10 – Prompt: “SasuSaku Rivals”]

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be pecked to death by a hawk should you be found plagiarizing.

Warning:Spoilersfor pretty much everything up to Chapter 699.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place during Part I. Team 7 goes from ages 5 – 10 over the course of the story.

Fanon Compliance: Could conceivably take place in my Meanwhiles and Neverwheres non-massacre AU timeline

AN: This is unedited. I basically powered through it in between interviews with parents tonight and scrambled to get it done. Edits will happen when they happen, maybe this weekend if I and my beta have time.

Sasuke Uchiha is convinced that Sakura Haruno is a demon.

From her ridiculous coloured hair to her too-bright eyes, to the way she walks around with a straight back, exuding total confidence in a way none of the other kids do. Unlike the other girls that silently clamour to sit beside him their first day at the Academy, she chooses a seat at the very front of the class, and reads what looks like an instructional scroll until their instructor arrives. When she notices him staring at her, she looks up and smiles in a way that makes the whole room feel uncomfortable and warm.

Like he’s her very favourite person in the world, even though they have never actually met.

Sasuke decides right then that there is something about her he doesn’t trust.

It turns out his instincts on this one are good, because she's weird.

Several mornings into the new academic year, Sasuke waits in the classroom, anticipating the moment when the first students start to trickle in and another tedious day of lessons begins. The peace of the morning is abruptly broken by hurried footsteps and a slamming door. Before he can react, he is cornered by a flushed and panting girl, who boldly plants herself barely two feet away from him.

He, of course, knows her from class, but they’ve never even exchanged two words before. Yet she addresses him as if they know each other well.

“Sasuke, I don’t have a lot of time, so there’s something I have to tell you because I might not get another chance,” she declares without preamble or even introducing herself. For a moment she hesitates, like the words are stuck in her throat, then she squares her shoulders. “I have feelings for you –” Which brings him up short, because theirs is a short acquaintance, and it’s the first time any member of the female species has said something like this to him, “ – but I can’t spend my time chasing after you. I have to become a powerful shinobi, and if I’m focussed on you right now it will take me longer. Just remember that, okay?”

And then she takes off again, leaving him utterly perplexed.

And annoyed.

Sasuke doesn’t have much patience for practical jokes, if this is what her outburst was, and he has even less for people that waste his time. Her little declaration serves no actual point that he can discern, and yet it feels like there is a significance to it. Something beyond the strange confession, like she’s trying to offer him some secret message.

Something more than a notion as ridiculous as feelings.

He spends an entire hour puzzling over it, before gravely deciding he’s too important to be thinking of such things. She’s said she won’t pay attention to him, and he takes that as an indication he won’t be bothered by any more of her strangeness.

The matter is safely stored at the back of his mind, phased out in favour of wheedling training sessions from Itachi and telling his parents about his successes in class.

But Sakura Haruno has the inconvenient, irritating talent for being noticed. And it’s not just because of her hair, but her general temperament. During breaks, she is kind to everyone she speaks to, breaks up disagreements and quietly re-explains Iruka’s lessons if her seatmate (usually Naruto) begins to flounder.

At first, he resolutely pays her no mind – she’s no challenge to him, after all. From what he hears, her parents never made it past chūnin, she’s not from an official shinobi clan and being nice isn’t going to make her a good ninja. Sure, over time, he becomes aware that she’s one of the other students Iruka tends to compliment on ability or efficiency – Ino and Shino are as well – but that’s it.

But then Iruka starts to ask her to come to the front of the class to demonstrate problems on the board. Or show other students how to perform proper kunai-throwing technique. In fact, in this respect, their teacher praises her more than he does Sasuke.

And that needles at him.

The fact that it’s someone he doesn’t like who excels as well as he does is vaguely irritating, but it’s still something he can shrug off. After all, he supposes blood doesn't always determine ability – look at Naruto. He’s the son of the Fourth Hokage and an Uzumaki, a clan known for their immense power, and yet he’s a talentless loser. And Shikamaru is probably smarter than all of them put together, but has the lowest scores in the class.

The whole issue with Sakura Haruno is a fluke, nothing worth acknowledging.

Until their first evaluations come in.

Sasuke fully expects to be at the top of the class – in fact, by his calculations he is. Except when Iruka gets up to announce the results, it’s Sakura’s name that he proudly writes on the blackboard, and not Sasuke’s.

It is as if his stomach has turned to lead.

While their classmates congratulate the flustered girl, Sasuke tries desperately to figure out how she beat him. She’s talented, sure, but he's Uchiha. His father is the police captain, and his mother was a skilled jōnin, and his brother was the youngest graduate from the Academy since the hero Kakashi Hatake. The way of the shinobi should not come more easily to her, so why is this nobody proving a challenge to him?

No answer presents itself other than the fact that maybe, just maybe, he hasn’t been putting the right effort into achieving his potential.

From that moment on, Sasuke vows to beat Sakura at all costs.

He flings himself into his studies, something he never expected to have to do, and increases his training regimen. He observes her during taijutsu exercises, cataloguing her (admittedly few) weaknesses, and races to complete classwork faster and better than she does. He even takes to sitting up front with her, if only to keep track of her progress in relation to his own. It means sitting with Naruto, too, because for some reason she’s friends with the idiot, but he accepts this as a necessary evil.

It always makes him look better by comparison, so it works out.

At first Sakura seems confused by his attention, even puzzled, but over time she starts to react to his obvious ire with something like…delight? It’s strange and weird, and not knowing why she has that reaction makes him even angrier. He thinks she has an ulterior motive of some kind, perhaps she isn’t as nice as people think, because no one is happy to have someone dislike them.

As the years inch by, the competition between them becomes more and more apparent.

It’s entirely good-natured on Sakura’s side, but the same can definitely not be said for Sasuke. From a young age, he had a tendency toward grudges, and his feelings radiate from the core of his heart to the tips of fingers. He is as intense in his dislike of her as he is in his love for his brother and parents.

“I don’t get it,” Naruto says one day in class when Iruka partners them together for sparring. “She’s nice to everyone, even the girls that make fun of her. How can you not like her?”

Which Sasuke doesn’t answer, instead soundly pummelling the Hokage’s kid to the ground.

He’ll probably get reprimanded for it later – Father will look disapproving, and Mother complain that she now has to apologise to Aunt Kushina on his behalf. And the next time Sasuke sees him, Cousin Obito will give him some long-winded lecture about friendship and respect and a final, “try not to kill my sensei’s kid, okay?”

But it’s worth it. Besides, it’s not like the popular boy can’t take a beating every once in a while. And answering Naruto would mean admitting out loud that Sasuke considers Sakura a rival, which would mean acknowledging her existence. He refuses to stoop to that level.

But the enmity is there nonetheless, and the rewards thereof fluctuate between them.

One day, Sasuke is at the head of their class in substitution jutsu, but the next Sakura produces not one but three consecutive substitutions during a game of capture-the-flag, thereby securing a win for her team. Another day, Sakura has all of her mathematics homework done perfectly, and Iruka has her name up on the board again. So, Sasuke stays up the whole night wrestling wildly with the confusing symbols and equations until his sums are perfect, earning the coveted spot as top student. He even managed to repeat this for three weeks straight.

The girls praise him and the boys mutter, and he pretends like it was no effort at all. Sakura shrugs, and goes back to whatever scroll she is studying this week.

Sasuke’s streak comes to an end when they begin learning about chakra control. Here, he finds a difficulty that can’t be fixed by mere memorization and repetition. Here, Sakura is the clear master, and again Iruka has her go around to the other kids that need help; she spends almost her entire afternoon trying to explain to Naruto what he’s doing wrong.

Sasuke resolutely tunes out everything she is saying, insistent that he will figure it all out on his own. When she comes by to offer him assistance, he barks out, “I’m fine. Go help someone who needs it.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” she tells him, and then moves on to one of their other classmates.

She doesn’t even get mad? What the hell is wrong with this girl?

By the end of the day, he manages to get a handle on it – not as well as she can do it, but better than the rest of his class – and he feels some small measure of vindication.

Then there’s the day when they both achieve a perfect score on their latest evaluation module – word problems and taijutsu forms and even a Rope Untying Jutsu. After announcing their joint results, Iruka puts both their names up on the blackboard beside one another. The boys hoot and make catcalls, the girls whisper mutinously, and at lunch some idiot (he’s pretty sure it’s Kiba) draws a heart around their names.

Sakura appears mortified, and Sasuke is furious.

The girls throw a fit and are quick to erase the offending drawing, turning on Sakura as if she is responsible, and Naruto spends the walk toward the Compound (he sometimes stays with Obito and Rin when his parents are away) loudly complaining to Sasuke, as if it's his fault it happened.

“She’s the only girl in the entire school you actually remember the name of,” he rants. “Of course people are gonna tease you! Which makes it harder for people who actually like her to get noticed!”

Naruto’s crush on Sakura is pathetic, and Sasuke tells him so.

Which may or may not result in them pounding the hell out of each other and arriving at his cousin’s house a mess of bruises and cuts.

“I feel like I’m reliving the past,” Obito laughs, while Rin heals the worst of the injuries. Sasuke is thankful for this, because he doesn’t relish the idea of having to explain them to his mother. “The only thing missing are a pair of goggles and those crappy books!”

“What books?” Kashi pipes up curiously from where she is playing with a stuffed dog.

“Books you can read when you’re eighteen,” Rin tells her daughter sternly, and the youngest Uchiha shrugs, unbothered, before going back to her toys.

Naruto sniggers. “If they’re about girls, then maybe Sasuke should read them now. That way he can learn not to be an asshole to S – ow, what the hell, you bastard?!”

“Sasuke!” Rin snaps. “That was utterly uncalled for! Do you think your father would approve of that behaviour? And Naruto, if I hear language like that coming from you again, I’m going to have a conversation with your mother, and I guarantee you won’t like the results.”

Both boys turn pale at the respective threats.

“Oh, I have a feeling this is going to be the norm from now on,” Obito muses, both too amused and too knowing for Sasuke’s liking.

But the subject is dropped, and Sasuke makes a mental note to spend less time at his cousin’s house from now on.

In class, his exploits continue.

Every month they have a progress test to check their skill levels. Waiting for the results always ends up feeling like a week of pure torture. Especially because for three months straight, Sakura ends up coming out just ahead of Sasuke.

This fact is now a topic of dinner conversations, much to his mortification and fury.

Fugaku has been asking questions, wondering distantly why Sasuke isn’t at the top of his class like Itachi was. Sasuke refuses to use the excuse of a civilian girl being better than him. Instead, he accepts his father’s belief that he isn’t working hard enough, and redoubles his efforts. Every day, he wakes up even earlier, forces himself through any subject that he finds difficult just for the possibility of overtaking her in class.

Slowly, it pays off.

More often than before, Iruka stands at the front of the class, congratulating Sasuke on being the top student of the week. Then for the term. And it happens again the next month, and the next, and by the end of their penultimate year at the Academy, Sasuke is named Rookie of the Year.

He is smug and satisfied with the news. Finally, he has done what he set out to do, and expects to be treated accordingly. On the day the news is announced, he expects Sakura Haruno to be devastated.

But his moment of triumph falls utterly flat when after class, Sakura comes up to him and beams. Her eyes shine with something that looks strangely like pride.

“Congratulations!” she says, with genuine and obvious pleasure. “I know you worked really hard for this! You deserve it.”

And his chest feels warm and the blood rushes to his cheeks and he is angry.

He expected her to be resentful, or even annoyed. Maybe he was hoping she would declare her own efforts to out-do him, or get angry at him – hoping she would do something that shows she feels the sting of defeat the same way he does.

But there is nothing there but joy, and for whatever reason, this enrages him, and the words are out of his mouth before he even understands what he is saying.

“Don’t be annoying,” he tells her coldly. “Your congratulations mean nothing to me. I beat you, therefore to me, you don’t exist anymore.”

There’s a long, horrifying beat of silence.

And there it is.

Her face falls, the brightness in her eyes fades, and the smile disappears. Her lips purse, and for a brief, brief instant, he sees an angry shadow cross her features.

He waits for her to lash out at him – she’s done it before, to Kiba or Naruto when they say something particularly obtuse, and she doesn’t hold back a tongue-lashing when it comes to Ino. But then she smiles –

Fake!

– and quietly tells him. “I’m happy for you anyway, Sasuke.”

And then walks away.

He tries to ignore the fact it feels like she takes all the colour of the room when she leaves.

He doesn’t see her for the rest of the day, or the next. She is not in class, or the hallways, and there are whispers from the other kids that he pretends not to hear. A tiny, niggling feeling that might possibly be guilt begins to pick at him.

Even if it didn’t, everyone he is on speaking terms with seems to have an opinion on the matter.

“I’ve never seen Sakura as upset as she was yesterday,” Naruto tells him that morning. “She didn’t say a word the rest of the day, and she didn’t even wait for me to walk her home like she usually does.”

“That just means she’s finally gotten tired of your voice,” Sasuke insists, but he is off-balance enough to succumb to a clumsy uppercut from his friend.

And Ino corners him around lunch, shoving a finger in his face and snapping, “Just because I like you doesn’t mean you get to be a jerk to my friend! You should apologise to Sakura!”

He turns and stalks away. “Hn.”

Kashi, who has been attending classes at the Academy now since the beginning of the year year, runs into him as he is heading home. With total solemnity, she informs him that he is a moron.

Because, of course, Sakura is hugely popular with the younger students.

I don’t care what they say, he insists to himself, even if the words in his head are beginning to sound less and less certain.

He walks home completely alone, realising that without Naruto or Kashi tagging along, he’s alone with his thoughts. It’s more than a relief when he encounters Itachi and his cousin Shisui in the courtyard outside the house.

“Sasuke,” his brother greets, a gentle smile on his face. “I heard you made it to the top of you class this year.”

Sasuke’s heart lifts. He doesn’t even question how his brother found out. “Yeah.”

“Well done.”

“Yeah, kid, that’s pretty cool,” Shisui tells him with a grin. “I guess you finally showed everyone that you’re as smart as your big brother, huh? I bet you impressed that crush of yours, too.”

Sasuke’s brief elation evaporates.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growls.

“Your little girl friend. Aunt Mikoto says –”

“Shisui,” Itachi warns, noting Sasuke’s expression, just before he snaps, “I don’t have time for girls and definitely not one who is so weird and smiles so much!”

Shisui sniggers, obviously not taking him seriously, and Itachi offers him a pandering smile.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Sasuke. You could do a lot worse.” He says this with a faraway, thoughtful look in his eyes, and Sasuke realises there’s no point to defending himself further.

So he decides to leave, but not without a parting shot and meaningful glare at Shisui. “You mean like you?”

The sound of two chokes of disbelief when he turns his back are totally worth it.

The victory is short-lived, however, because at dinner it starts again.

“I had tea with Mebuki Haruno today,” she chats brightly as she doles out second helping to her husband and sons. “She’s mending our good clothes for Inabi’s wedding next month. She was telling me about how excited Sakura is for summer. She’s in your class, isn’t she, Sasuke?”

“Hm.” He shoves a tomato in his mouth to avoid a proper answer, but off his father’s raised eyebrow, he swallows quickly and mutters, “Yes.”

“We should have them over one afternoon,” Mikoto continues. “They’re such a nice family. And talented, from what I hear. Iruka says she and Sasuke are usually neck and neck in class.”

Fugaku snorts.

“She isn’t from any known clan,” he points out, sipping his tea. “I would hope Sasuke isn’t going easy on her because she’s a girl. That dishonours your abilities and hers.”

“Oh, Sasuke would never do that,” Mikoto protests. “I mean, maybe if he liked her, but – ”

Sasuke jumps to his feet at his.

“May I be excused?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for the answer, before stomping to his room. Upon shoving the shoji door closed, he proceeds to throw himself face down on his bed in a sulk.

Even my parents!

It’s beyond frustrating, like everywhere he turns today, he is destined to be reminded of Sakura. And the expression on her face when he said those words earlier.

Growling, he shoves his pillow over his head, as if that will drown out the memory of it. This is how Itachi finds him ten minutes later. He gently pries the pillow away.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and though his voice is quiet and without the expectation that Sasuke will actually answer, it’s as if he has given permission to open the floodgates.

“I don’t understand why everyone is making such a big deal over this!” he cries, clenching his fists. “Everyone tells me how I feel and they don’t listen when I tell them I don’t like Sakura! She ruins everything She’s always in the way, and when I finally beat her – when I finally get what I’ve been working so hard for – all anyone can talk about his her! Just for once, I want someone to…to…”

He trails off, words utterly failing him in his frustration.

“Acknowledge you?” Itachi supplies.

Sasuke blinks. “…Yeah.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“When you were named Rookie of the Year, how did Sakura react?” Itachi questions. “Was she upset?”

“No,” Sasuke mutters. “She congratulated me.”

“That was rather graceful,” Itachi says mildly. “It’s a measure of character when someone can accept defeat with ease. And even be magnanimous to the person who has beaten them. Can you think of anyone else who would react in such a way?”

“No…but that doesn’t matter!” Sasuke protests. “She’s weird! She never reacts how normal people react! And the whole time, it’s like she was happy that I was beating her, and that’s just not normal!”

“She was happy for you,” Itachi repeats. “Proud, even, would you say?”

“I…yeah, I guess.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted from the beginning? For her to acknowledge you?” Sasuke opens his mouth to correct him, but Itachi goes on, “Acknowledgement doesn’t have to mean ceding to a superior in battle. Sometimes it can be as simple as a kind word.”

Which Sasuke can’t think of a way to argue against.

Now the guilty feeling is back, and with a vengeance. He shifts uncomfortably.

“Hey…Big Brother?”

“Yes?”

“Did you ever have this problem before? With Izumi?”

A rare expression of discomfort passes over Itachi’s face.

“That is a story for another time.” He reaches his hand out and waves his fingers, indicating Sasuke come closer. Sasuke frowns suspiciously, but inches forward, only to jerk back when – of course – Itachi pokes him in the forehead. “For now, little brother, I think there’s someone else that you owe at least a conversation.”

Despite the last word, Sasuke knows his brother actually means apology. The trouble is, he’s never actually had to give one, so is unsure what to do. Maybe there’s a way he can get around actually giving one, but whatever he does, he’s going to have to face Sakura.

At the brief feeling of doubt, he frowns at himself.

He is to be a shinobi one day, and if he can’t handle talking to one girl, then he might as well give up on the whole thing now.

He wastes no more time slipping out of his room – he doesn’t think his parents will be so keen on letting him go anywhere given his abrupt departure from dinner – and heads for her house. He has never been there before, but Naruto has pointed it out to him on more than one occasion over the years, and he’s memorized the location against his will.

When he knocks tentatively on the door, he is barely given a moment to prepare a story, before it is flung open and a kind-faced woman with blond hair stands before him.

“Yes?” she asks, and then blinks at him. “Oh, goodness, you look just like Mikoto. You must be Sasuke, then – come in.”

Before he can marvel at the speed with which she comes to this conclusion, he is ushered into the house.

“Sakura talks about you a lot,” Sakura’s mother tells him cheerily, “so even if you didn’t look the spit of your mother, I’d know who you are. I hear you just got top of the class – that’s great! She was a little upset yesterday – I guess no one likes to be bumped down to second place – but she’s real happy for you. I personally think it’s good for her – she needs to take some time away from the books, you know? Go out and have some fun, but she’s so studious all the time! And she’s always down at the hospital, asking questions, wandering around the library. I don’t know where she gets it from – I hated classes, and her dad, well, he’s brilliant of course, but the attention span of a gnat. Have you eaten, sweetheart?”

Sasuke mouths wordlessly at this. “Uh…yes.”

“Well, you look like you haven’t. Do you want something?”

“I just…need to speak to Sakura,” he manages to get out.

“Oh, she’s upstairs. She should be resting, but I bet she’s studying one of her scrolls again. You go tell her to knock it off,” Mebuki tells him. “I’ll fix up some tea and biscuits for you two, okay?” She nods into the hallway. “It’s up the stairs, second door on the left.” When he continues to stare at him, she makes a waving motion. “Well? What are you waiting for? Shoo!”

Sasuke decides he doesn’t want to be subject to another barrage of rambling, and hurries up the stairs, shaking his head.

No wonder she’s so weird, with a mother like that!

He reaches the door to Sakura’s room quickly, and for a moment pauses in front of it. A sudden, overwhelming feeling of doubt hits him, and he wonders if this is what he is supposed to be doing after all. Maybe he should just wait to see her in class…

The idea of being watched apologise to her in front of their classmates makes his skin crawl.

No. Here is good. Simple and quick and then I’ll go home.

And so he takes a steadying breath, and pushes open the door.

There is a brief image of Sakura – her face red, and wet – and is she crying? He did not sign up for her crying, maybe he should just –

“KYAAAH! Don’t you knock?!”

A pillow is tossed at him, and would hit him right in the face if he didn’t duck.

“S-Sasuke?” he hears her say, tentative. When he recovers himself, he sees her face go from indignant to shocked to mortified. “Oh, my – I’m so sorry! I thought you were my mom!”

“So you threw something at her?” he inquires, studying her. He realises the reason her face is wet because it’s covered in sweat; perspiration actually soaks through her tunic. She is also positioning her body in front of something, which he thinks must have held her attention before he entered the room.

When she notices his eyes trying to see around her body, she frowns in consideration, then motions for him to close the door. When he does, she shifts aside, and gestures to the desk behind her. Or rather, what is on the desk behind her.

Sasuke realises that what she’s been hiding is a bird.

A hawk, actually.

It’s right wing is twisted at an odd angle, and some of its feathers are badly bent. The creature is arranged in a makeshift nest of a shoebox, papers and cloth, and every now and then makes feeble cooing sounds. When Sasuke takes a tentative step forward, it turns a distrustful yellow eye on him.

“It flew into my window yesterday,” Sakura explains. “I tried to heal him, but I put too much power into it and had to stop it before I accidentally hurt him. But that kind of knocked me out, so that’s why I wasn’t in school today. Mom’s been freaking out at me because I wouldn’t tell her what happened, but he’s not back to normal, so I thought I’d try again, only a little less because I really don’t want a lecture again and…and why are you looking at me like that?”

He is staring at her in amazement, the kind that only just overrides his usual jealousy, because healing and medical ninjutsu are incredibly advanced and how does she even know what to do?

“There is something wrong with you,” he informs her.

She tenses up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how are you real?” he demands. “People aren’t like this, they’re aren’t so…you’re always nice and helpful and how do you have time to be like that when you’re so busy doing stuff like this?”

He gestures to the bird on her desk, which makes a weak noise of indignation.

Sakura smiles now, that odd, almost patronizing smile of hers, like she’s somehow more mature than him. And not just in a four-months-older kind of way, but the way he’s seen his brother and older cousins look at him.

“I study a lot,” she tells him. “Not all of us are born geniuses, right?”

He can’t think of a thing to say to this.

“Was there something you wanted?” she goes on, and then a sharper note enters her voice. “I thought I didn’t exist to you.”

He shifts uncomfortably at this.

“I…might have…I mean…I shouldn’t have…” Sasuke cringes, because it shouldn’t be this hard to get the words out. Taking a steadying breath, he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

An expression of absolute shock overtakes her features, and he finds – oddly enough – that it’s not a bad look on her. When it morphs into genuine pleasure, a sense of relief fills him.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” she says softly, a faraway look flitting through her eyes. “Thank you.”

Sasuke can’t help frowning at this, because this all feels very backward. He feels as if he should be the one who is thanking her. And not just for congratulating him the day earlier.

Why does she always make me feel like things are out of order?

Noticing the way he is watching her, and she prompts, “What?”

“You’re not like any of the other girls,” he tells her, a minor accusing note in his voice.

She smirks at this. “Because I don’t throw myself at you?”

“No,” he insists quickly, the back of his neck turning red because he sort of means ‘yes’.

She laughs.

“I told you almost the first day we started at the Academy,” she reminds him. “I have feelings for you.” This time, hearing those words makes his stomach flip a little. “But I can’t let that get in the way of my training again. I’m going to become the most powerful kunoichi in the world one day. I’m going to help heal people, and protect the ones who are precious to me, and if I’m going to be ready, I have to put in the work now.”

And that at least is something he can understand. The need to become stronger, the need to live up to expectations – either one’s own or one’s family’s.

It’s possible that maybe, just maybe, he and Sakura have more in common than he considered.

“Besides,” she adds, matter-of-factly, “if I’m going to marry you one day, I have to be the best.”

Sasuke’s brain stalls at this, and he has to mentally repeat her words in his head. “…What?”

“Well, you’re an Uchiha,” she shrugs. “They’re not going to let you marry just anyone. I have to be better than everyone else, even all those talented Uchiha girls in your clan.”

Sasuke scowls and crosses his arms. “No one is going to let me do anything. I can marry whoever I want, and even if I cared about that sort of thing, it wouldn’t be you.”

She shoots him a taunting look of disbelief, and he straightens up, fists now clenched.

“In fact, I’m going to become an even better shinobi – much more powerful than you’ll ever be. And then you’ll never be able to marry me!”

It’s not his strongest argument, he’s aware, but he just wants to provoke a reaction.

Instead, she considers him thoughtfully, the way his mother and brother look at him when he is being stubborn or ridiculous. Then she tosses her hair and says, “Well, I guess there’s always Naruto.”

Sasuke sputters out an incomprehensible word, and Sakura dissolves into a fit of giggles.

“Your face – !” she cackles.

And Sasuke his entire body turn warm, and he should be annoyed – because no one mocks an Uchiha – but at the same time, he likes the sound of her laughter. It occurs to him he doesn’t hear it very often – she is generous with her smiles, but he’s never seen her actually laugh around anyone in their class.

Slowly the peals of laughter subside, and she calms herself.

“Don’t worry,” she tells him. “I wouldn’t want you to do something you don’t want. And who says I’ll ever get married? Lady Tsunade never got married and she’s a Sannin. Maybe I’ll be like her. There are worse things.” Something dark and pained crosses her features here, and in a quiet voice she adds, “I just want the people I care about to be happy.” Then she brightens up. “And that includes you, whether you like it or not.”

Without waiting for his reply, she turns around and refocuses on the bird, reaching down with her tiny hands and checking its wing.

Sasuke really has no idea what to say to this.

This girl – this strange, utterly mystifying girl – keeps tripping him up. Just when he thinks he’s figured her out, she says something or does something that completely alters his perception of her.

It’s still utterly annoying.

For once, he wants to say something or do something that puts her off balance. She’s always so resilient, always sure of everything around her, as if she already knows exactly how everything is going to turn out.

Perhaps that’s why he gives in to the first rash idea that comes to mind.

“Hey. Sakura.”

“Hm?”

She turns to face him, and quick as a snake, he leans over, closing the distance between them and pressing his mouth to hers.

It’s a brief peck, and it’s clumsy – he only catches the corner of her mouth – but she freezes, entire body going utterly tense, and he can’t help do the same because he just kissed a girl on the mouth.

He pulls back, half-shocked, half-impressed by his own daring, and stares at her. Sakura’s eyes are wide, and slowly – ever so slowly – her face turns darker and darker, steadily matching her hair.

“S-sasuke,” she whispers, like she isn’t sure how to use her voice, “why did you…?”

“I don’t know,” he snaps, all of a sudden feeling the pressing need to get out of there. He begins to back away from her, narrowing his eyes threateningly. “If you tell anyone…”

“I-I won't…” Sakura still seems too surprised and disbelieving. Maybe, if he’s lucky, she’ll think she imagined the whole thing.

Just in case she doesn’t, however, he jabs a finger at her when he reaches the door. “And this doesn’t mean I’m ever going to marry you!”

Without waiting for an answer, he yanks open the door and runs down the hallway – nearly knocking into Mebuki as she carries a tray of snacks up the stairs – desperate to get out of this weird house, with it’s even weirder women. Away from the strange girl that makes him do strange things.

Out the door and down the road, Sasuke coaches himself to run faster, to not stop until he’s back home where things always make sense. His mouth tingles oddly – not unpleasantly – and he feels the blood rushing to his face. He knows it’s not because he is running.

He doesn’t know what school is going to be like from now on. She might not say anything – he doubts she will, Sakura isn’t the type to embarrass people – but how is he supposed to look at her from now on? Was a brief moment of her being utterly stunned worth trying something so…ridiculous?

He casts his mind back, the image of her shocked, flustered expression permanently imprinted on his mind. A wan smirk of satisfaction tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Yes. Yes it was.

終わり

I hope you enjoyed the story! As part of the SasuSakuFestival, please go to the ssfest page and vote, like and/or reblog, it would be majorly appreciated!

クリ

#ssfest17 #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #ssfestday10 #submission #ssfestentry

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yourlittlestarlight-blog · 7 years ago

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Seriously - What Is A Brand?

Last summer was extremely busy for me. Richard Carey and I team up once again at Right Management teaching branding workshops to executives in transition. In other words, we were showing middle managers and C-Suite executives the basics of branding themselves using today's online technology. Web 2.0 open source sites are free and allow even a techno novice the ability to build their online credibility with sites such as WordPress, EzineArticles, Blogger, Flickr etc …

We based most of our work on an article that appeared in Fast Company magazine: A Brand Called You. by Tom Peters. The implication was that personal brands would become the hot new wave for talented individuals to start branding themselves for greater employment and consulting opportunities. Using our own entrepreneurial experiences, and the fact that Richard and I launched some very successful online brands, we were the obvious experts to teach the seminars.

Our approach was simple. Start with your resume. Take out everything that did not support your core competency, get focused on exactly which category you fit in, get your elevator speech down pat, and launch from there. Graphic design 101 was part of the seminar including migration to the online universe. We used the same techniques as major corporations.

It was a simple set of instructions. A few hours each night could build one's online resume, an archive of articles, or a small diary of web logs. Why create such online content? With Google becoming the dominant search engine tool, employers are turning to its capabilities more and more to weed out the bad apples. Many a student complained that they were Googled as soon as they left the office. This makes online credibility paramount to managing where your resume lands. Either at the top of the heap or in the circular file. "Do not call us, we'll call you" can be turned into "Can you come in for a second interview" with just a few hours each night. Creating your online dossier is easy.

That's why I asked myself why no one was doing it?

Everyone who took our suspects filled out their feedback form with glowing recommendations for us. But no one was running out to take action on what we just showed them. And then it dawned on me: in every seminar, the branding part seemed to leave most just nodding their heads in agreement. They understood that their business card, resume and online presence had to have the same look and feel, but was it possible that no one really knew what a brand was? Had I done my job well enough in explaining a brand? Perhaps not …

My writing is not so much to pontificate, but to give practical steps for entrepreneurs who may be launching their own companies or executives who need one piece of wisdom to complete their knowledge base. Since I speak only from experience, keep what you like and discard the rest. So the purpose of this article is to go back to basics and explore what a brand is and what branding is all about.

The best definition of a brand I could find is … "A distinguishing symbol, mark, logo, name, word, sentence, or a combination of these items that companies use to distinguish their product from others in the market."

This definition is only half of the story. The reality is a brand is much more than a symbol – it is the experience one gets from using a product or service. How does this help you? To understand some more, let's walk through a little bit of history.

Brands themselves can be traced back to their modern use in the Old West. Cattle ranchers as well as horse traders needed to mark their animals permanently with a symbol that determined ownership. They had blacksmiths design intricate logos that represented each rancher's initials or company insignia.

Burning their emblem into the flesh of the animal determined ownership. Sometimes over time some brands of livestock become more popular than others. So, when a particular rancher bought in his beef for sale, his reputation came with it. Lesser brands could not get the price for their livestock that the better brands could command. The buyers paid on repeat business and reputation.

It was the first use of brand recognition. The power of the symbol represented the reputation of the brand.

Since stealing horses was a felony punishable by death, brands were taken very seriously. Ranchers fiercely protected their brand so others could not copy the design. Copyright infringement law did not really exist in the western territories yet, so keeping their branding irons locked up and out of sight became the norm.

But branding goes back even further. The history of modern brands reads like a Dan Brown novel, but, you probably would not recognize them as brands. A golden sun symbol in Iran from 1400 BC was revitalized again in Rome, representing the sun-god Mithra. Occasionally Emperor Constantine would fuse the sun god's symbol of Mithra (of which he was the grand master) with the Christian cross to create his brand. The golden sun with a cross in the center on a blazing red shield became a symbol to fear during the Byzantine period of European history.

Or even earlier, Pythia was the high priestess presiding over the Oracle of Apollo at Delphi. Or regardless the worship of Isis, Baal or any number of cults in the ancient world. Unfortunately branding animals as well as human beings were not new. A mark determined ones status as a slave, a request of war, or worse, marked for death. Either way, it mean ownership.

The formula for religious cults was simple; create a temple with an image, get people to gather around it and give out the Gospel, then get the followers to spread the word. The ancient Greeks called this phenomenon, this worship of a holy word or symbol, Logos, (Used as both a noun and a verb). We use the same theories in today's marketing and branding techniques with out driving our followers over a cliff of course, but the theories are the same.

As the human race evolved, those brands meant less about ownership and more about who one was aligned with. Flags, hats, and special clothes are a form of branding. It is a quick and easy way for individuals to comprehend and choose sides. "The Red Coats are coming" was about the British Empire and what it meant to live under the "brand" of British rule. No one wanted to be owned by royalty anymore.

Usually, branding spread from cattle to retail products. One hundred fifty years ago when a man wanted to buy a new razor for his son, he went to a store like Macy's, looked at the display of razors, picked what he wanted and was promptly handed a package wrapped in brown paper and string. Modern packaging did not exist … partly because printing techniques needed to catch up. People evolved in their sophistication and therefore so did branding. Today we can not imagine buying a product without it's slick packaging enticing us to buy it.

To say branding has become a science is an understatement. Just look around your house and you will see brands everywhere. From the SONY television you bought to the Gillette razor you used this morning. From the Amerige perfume you just can not live without to those Jimmy Choo's your husband bought for your birthday, you and I and everyone in America is a branded consumer. Ironically, each brand has a logo for us to worship and it is getting harder to resist.

Every brand you buy has an emotional reason why you buy it. Why did you buy that Mercedes? It was not because you were looking for an economy car. Or how about that new suit? Hugo Boss says you spent a little bit extra to stand out. Paul Mitchell hair care products? What dental care system are you using? Are you brushing like a dentist or are you brushing like everyone else? You have to pay to get this kind of brushing technology. We can not let it fall into the hands of the British.

Great companies remember their name is more than a logo on a napkin, a jpeg on a website, or a neon sign calling out from interstate 95. It is the relationship you've had with them. This collection of experiences forms an opinion in the consumer's mind that rarely changes. Let me repeat that: your experiences with a brand form an opinion in your mind. Which means it may not be based on truth. It is based on perception. Every great brand knows this and does not mess with it until they get into trouble.

Since you are beginning to understand that a brand is more about the experience of using a product than the logo on it, then it stands to reason that creating the experience becomes paramount as people begin to trust their association with your company.

Branding is a huge part of your sales paradigm. Your reputation proceeds you, so why not work hard at creating a great perception?

Starbucks worked hard at developing each store. The leisure environment that invites you to sit down and relax. How about the customized service? You can order their products in over 80,000 different combinations. Everything about the Starbucks experience says you've earned the best cup of coffee in the world. Does Starbucks make the best cup of coffee in the world? Probably not, but you sure as hell feel like it is, and perception is 90% of the sale.

Starbucks also focuses on coffee and coffee finger foods. All cakes, muffins and donuts are at eye level for a quick sale. Anything else is in a case below your waste – Sandwiches, fruit and cheese, bottled water. In other words, Starbucks is focused on one thing: Coffee! Anything that does not support coffee never makes it inside the store.

In marketing this is called brand focus and has made the difference for many a company struggling to define what they are. If you are known for many things, your brand may fail. Dropping all services that interfere with your core competency will give your brand a major boost. Companies who do this statistically lose 25% of their clients. But, by focusing the brand companies can increase revenue by 75%!

So get as focused on one category as quickly as possible. After all, do you want to have a jack of all trades or a master of one? Would you go to a doctor who is a generalist or a specialist? I am guessing your answer is the specialist.

If you are confused by categories try this: What is FedEx known for? What is Gillette known for? What is McDonald's known for? Each answer is a simple sentence that tells you what category these brands dominate. Interestingly as well, these three companies are the leader in their categories. They were also the first.

If you are the last to enter a particular market, invent a category. Apple could not compete with IBM as a computer company, so they positioned themselves as the personal computer for everyone else. They not only dominate that market, they forced the other manufacturers to follow their lead.

As you launch your new brand, ask yourself these questions:

What experience does the consumer get from interacting with my brand?

How can I make that experience better?

Is the perception true?

Do I own my category?

Can I create a new category?

Is my logo reflective of my product / service?

Should my company be separate from my brand?

Does my brand reflect thematic consistency in my signage, website, and collateral?

Once the consumer has formed an opinion in their minds collectively, it is almost impossible to change it. So be very careful when launching a new product or service. This is why marketing firms get paid so well. They spend months interviewing tens of thousands of people on your new brand and where to position it. Positioning is important, but that is for another article.

Depending on the size of your company I would hire a brand manager who knows all the techniques to create a mega brand. Scott Bedbury comes to mind. He was in charge of a couple of brands you might have heard of; Nike, (he was responsible for the Just Do It! Tag line) and Starbucks. His big coup was to increase Starbucks store base from 350 stores to several thousand stores world wide. That's the power of a top tier brand and marketing manager.

Sometimes I get so used to marketing and branding that I see them as one and the same. But if you want to learn more about how to market your brand, I suggest The 22 Immutable Laws of Marketing: Violate Them at Your Own Risk! by Al Ries & Jack Trout. It will help you to understand the science behind building and maintaining a strong brand. I would not start a project until my clients read it from cover to cover. It's an easy read and can be devoured in a weekend. Enjoy!

Ata Rehman

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aawarning-blog · 7 years ago

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New Post has been published on AAW

New Post has been published on http://www.anamericanwarning.com/2017/09/nfl-first-amendment/

The NFL - First Amendment Debate: This One Needs Some Clarity

There have been many opinions thrown around about the NFL Players and their kneeling protests. Some are saying it’s their right to protest and that it’s protected speech, and some argue that it’s a disruption and that they can be fired for it. So these two groups go back and forth, arguing about which side is right or wrong when the truth of the matter is that they are both right. That’s right! The players have the right and CAN be fired for it. So how can that be?

The First Amendment states “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” It doesn’t say anything about corporations.

To explain this, let us start with the recent statement by Teresa Stanton Collett, a professor at the University of St. Thomas School of Law who says “I don’t watch football. I don’t care about football. But I do care about constitutional literacy. Please stop saying football players have first amendment rights to disregard the direction of their private employers while engaged in privately sponsored activities — which is what NFL football games are.” She said that “They have no more constitutional protection for their expressive activities than I do for mine at my private Catholic university. Any ‘rights’ they have are based on their contracts and employment law.”

I think in this case, Professor Collett is right and she’s wrong. Now, before I explain myself, I should note that I am not debating whether or not any of this is the right thing to do. I am merely discussing the right to do it. Please don’t read into the words and try to remain objective.

Is Kneeling Protected Speech?

Of course it is. First, it should be known that protected speech is determined by using the “clear and present danger” test. This precedent was set by the famous Schenck v. the United States case from World War I. Basically, free speech is protected unless it presents a “clear and present danger” to United States security or someone specifically. Taking a knee doesn’t harm anyone. It’s actually considered a peaceful form of speech and protest because it does not present a danger to anyone.

However, kneeling doesn’t involve actual speech (words), so it is considered “symbolic speech”. Because of this simple fact, it needs to be put into contrast with cases such as Texas v. Johnson were the Supreme Court upheld the right of an individual to burn an American flag if they choose to. So yes… it would be protected speech.

The question that so many should be asking is “protected from what or who?” I’ll get to that in a second, but before I do, let me clarify something. The professor makes a decent point when she says “They have no more constitutional protection for their expressive activities than I do for mine at my private Catholic university. Any ‘rights’ they have are based on their contracts and employment law.” This is true because we are talking about a private organization with a contract with a private citizen that just so happens to be engaging in protected speech. That is basically what I was saying in my recent article concerning the NFL Players and their protests. I wrote “You still have the freedom to say what you want and you won’t go to jail for it, but that doesn’t mean your actions are without consequence when you are being paid by someone else for your time.” We must understand that the business has rights too. This is especially true if the player is under contract.

Do Contracts Alter Rights?

Not really. It is true that you can attempt to waive your right or restrict your freedom of speech by signing a contract or gaining employment with a company that forbids it, but all this does is set up a situation where you can be fired for violations of certain terms or be made to pay back certain funds if those terms are violated. The government will more than likely not jail you for a breech of contract in a private matter.

I said “attempt to waive” for a very deliberate reason though. A “right” in this context is a “natural right”. A natural right is something you are born with. It is something that cannot be traded, signed away, taken away or anything else. The Founders recognized the natural right of individuals speaking freely and enumerated its protection by the First Amendment’s prohibition on Congress from making laws abridging freedom of speech. That’s a hint by the way.

By definition, there can be no law which can curtail or deprive someone of their right… such as speech. This actually includes contracts and employment law. This is because any law that is repugnant to the Constitution is null and void according to the Supreme Court – Marbury v. Madison. However, your decision to participate in something that somehow infringes upon the right of a business owner to conduct business as usual is something else that needs to be considered. To explore this, we need to look at Article 1, Section 10 of the Constitution and the 9th Amendment.

I bring up Article 1, Section 10 because it involves contracts. It states that no State shall . . . pass any . . . Law impairing the Obligation of Contracts. This plays into the argument that a right can be waived if done so under contract. This is a valid argument and I concede to that. However, it is also irrelevant in this case for a number of different reasons. For the most part, government tends to stay out of private contracts and agreements unless there is a dispute. Furthermore, no contract can truly infringe upon a Natural Right because rights actually exist in the absence of authority, not because of authority. If an agreement or contract attempts to infringe upon your rights, and you agree to it for whatever reason, all you’re saying in such contacts is that you are agreeing to not exercise said rights during the course of that contract. Essentially, you are willfully suspending them for a while, which is your right to do so. Your rights still exist though; you just consented to have them suspended for a bit in your private matter. There’s another hint. It still exists though and your will to exercise it is really the only thing that separates the thought from the act. Proof of this comes in the idea that workplace violence is illegal and when you sign up for a job, you agree that you will not engage in it. Yet… somehow it still happens.

Furthermore, I think it’s important to point out that the Contracts Clause has been almost read out of the Constitution by the courts. This is why we are witnessing an unbelievable amount of torts litigation as of late; because courts no longer respect contracts protecting businesses from liability and I think this may alter the debate in some instances. Still, the business has the right to conduct business as they see fit so long as it does not infringe upon the rights of an individual or violate mutually agreed upon contractual agreements. This is similar to how you can exercise your rights so long as it does not infringe upon the rights of another. This is where the line gets a little thin though and we need to examine the details very closely.

On December 20, 1787, Thomas Jefferson said that “[A] bill of rights is what the people are entitled to against every government on earth, general or particular, and what no just government should refuse.” This is actually our biggest hint. We should take note of the order.

It is also imperative that we examine the 9th Amendment because it states clearly that “The enumeration in the Constitution of certain rights shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.” In this context, this means that the players have the right to protest as they see fit. It also means that the teams have the right to conduct business without disruption and it also means that the two parties can engage in business if they choose to. So who gets the win?

To add some perspective (or perhaps some confusion), the Supreme Court has repeatedly ruled that even hate speech, no matter how bigoted or offensive, is still free speech. Yet, people are fired for engaging in hate speech all of the time. So how can hate speech be protected speech but people still get fired for it? Well, according to Katherine Stone, a law professor at UCLA who focuses on labor law, “it’s not at all uncommon—or illegal—for private-sector workers to get fired for what they do in their free time if it reflects poorly on their employer.” So if you are engaged in free speech that makes your employer look bad, you may be out of a job. This is especially true if you are in an “at will” employment situation. Of course, these statements apply to what you do in your free time; what you do on paid time is even stricter. Employment on contract is even more so.

Will the Government Protect the Players?

Probably not but that’s not really the question we should asking. The debate seems to be whether or not the players have the right to do it on “team time” or “on the clock”. Some suggest that if it’s free speech, then they do and that the government will protect them. Some are saying that they need to be fired for their actions. Honestly… it really depends on what those contracts say. It’s not really up to us and again, they have the right, but the teams have rights too. So let me provide some clarity for you.

What is important to note here is something I have tried to express for many years. The Constitution is not a document that “allows” the people to do anything. Instead, it is a document that restricts government. This was made very clear by what Thomas Jefferson said in the quote I provided above saying “a bill of rights is what the people are entitled to against every government”. It doesn’t saying anything about businesses or corporations either. This is important to note because the Bill of Rights really only applies to government action. It defines what our founders decided the government couldn’t do to its citizens. It does not apply to what corporations do to its employees. This is similar to how you have the Right to Keep and Bear Arms but probably cannot strap an AR15 to your back while sitting in the company lunch room without permission.

To be clear, understand that the 1st Amendment involves the government. These players have a private agreement with the teams they play for. These private agreements may not require them to stop kneeling, but said agreements could have other clauses that allow the teams to dismiss them for stirring the pot if it gets out of hand. This is where the customer’s power to boycott or patronize comes in. So let’s go ahead and ask the million dollar question.

Can NFL Owners Fire Players for Kneeling?

It’s quite possible. According to Sports Illustrated, the standard NFL player contract gives the team owners a considerable amount of power. The fact that players signed the agreement opens them up to all sorts of issues if they step out of what the clubs consider “their line“. Two lines in particular of the NFL player contract are of particular interest in this discussion.

Paragraph 2 for “employment and services.” The player pledges to “conduct himself on and off the field with appropriate recognition of the fact that the success of professional football depends largely on public respect for and approval of those associated with the game.”

Paragraph 11, which concerns “skill, performance and conduct,” stipulates that the team can terminate a player’s contract if the player “has engaged in personal conduct reasonably judged by Club to adversely affect or reflect on Club.”

If we think about the money being lost and the decline in ratings that have resulted from these protests, one has to wonder how much longer these will go on. If the people continue to pressure the NFL, no doubt they will cave at some point when the money is being lost. The point is that under these two clauses alone, one could say the players could be terminated at any time and it wouldn’t be a violation of their rights to do so. Or… if the owners wish for them to stop, they could try and compel them to stop under the terms of their contracts and it still wouldn’t be violation of their rights considering that the players willfully engaged in that contract.

So I have written all of the preceding to provide the necessary context for the following:

Nobody is really stopping them from kneeling right now and nobody will be able to stop them from kneeling if they are fired and forced to leave the stadium. The point is that they can still kneel either way. They have that right. We know that because nobody will physically stop them from kneeling short of removing them for trespassing if they refuse to leave private property. They could just be out of a job if they don’t abide by their agreements they willfully engaged in. Remember, federal law in this regard does not protect workers in the private sector — only government employees.

Contracts and Rights are two separate issues. Constitutional Rights concern a private citizen and the government, and in this case, contracts concern a private citizen and a private corporation. As I said in my article, “this is no different than if you worked at a bank and decided to use the front lobby as your platform.” If your actions are disrupting business and making the employer look bad, you CAN get fired for it and be barred from the grounds. You still have the right to say it or do it though; the government will not stop you from doing it unless you are trespassing or otherwise violating the rights of another.

Of course, there is another factor that muddies the water a bit, and that would be the billions of public dollars used by the these teams to help build their stadiums. Since taxpayer dollars are being used, a government hand is now involved. This could sway this debate in a number of different ways but I would imagine that would need to be settled in the courts and it would be a battle I would pay attention to.

Remember; we were all born with certain unalienable rights and nobody can take that away from you. The first amendment does not give anyone the right to say whatever they want without consequences… it just gives them the right to say it without the government infringing upon anyone actually saying it. Never forget that the Bill of Rights protects you from government but there is no right of employment. If you are willing to sign a private contract that will get you fired or fined for exercising your rights, then that’s on you. This is why I say that you may have the right, but you are not protected from making dumb decisions.

And yes, of course there are various forms of speech that are prohibited beyond that of the “clear and present danger” I spoke of earlier and they probably will get you some jail time. These include:

Obscenity

Fighting words

Defamation (including libel and slander)

Child pornography

Perjury

Blackmail

Incitement to imminent lawless action

True threats

Solicitations to commit crimes

Among a few others…

These forms of speech will probably land you in hand-cuffs and that’s not what we are talking about.

The Bigger Problem

Now, with all of that out of the way, I must say that as a nation, we have really dropped the ball. This NFL / National Anthem situation has been a massive distraction for us. For only the second time since 1929, the Republican Party controls the House, the Senate and the White House. You would think that they would be able to move mountains. Many were elected on the promise that they would do just that. Republicans vowed for seven years to abolish Obamacare and promised that if we put them in office, they would. But while the nation was wrapped up in another flag distraction, Republicans failed to do the one thing they were elected to do and repeal it. Unfortunately, this may have been the last chance to do it and we were all busy fighting among ourselves instead of providing pressure on Congress. We should be ashamed of ourselves.

Divide and conquer works and this is all the evidence you need to prove that it does.

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