This idea woke me up at fuckin 5am ugh. As much as I like to rag on Sauce I don't actually hate the guy, it's just the writing that happens around him that pisses me off, like how Nart's other friendships are forgotten/ignored for the sake of his rivalry, how determined Kishi was to make him the Big Endgame Boss Battle when it probably would've been more emotionally engaging had he turned earlier in the story and we'd gotten to see him actually being friends with T7 and the other rookies, eVERYTHING involving Sakura…
But yeah, I think there was a real missed opportunity with these two cause they're way more similar to each other than Nart and Sauce or even Nart and Gaara (seriously, both betrayed at a young age by a family member that they adored, both quiet, intelligent introvert types, both genius level talents who were consumed by their own hate for a long time, both eventually discover that the one who betrayed them didn't actually hate them and loved them all along… like, I'm not pulling this from nothing here) ngl I lowkey ship these two (under Very specific circumstances, I can't really see them working in canon, if only because I hc Sauce as the most aggressively aroace person to ever exist) but this is mostly about their potential friendship.
My first time writing Sauce and fuck he's a difficult brat to work with, honestly I don't know how this guy thinks at all, so this is more probably an interpretation of his character than based 100% on canon, but it was an interesting experiment so!
Hope y'all enjoy!
He couldn't breathe.
The great battle had been over hours ago, but the air was still filled with choking dust, from endless explosions, from earth-shaking jutsu, from every single footstep that had pounded against dry sand, cracking mud and crumbling rock. And, despite all his years of training, he could never have prepared himself for the smell; dust, sweat, ash, blood, the bitter trace of long-since dissipated poison gas and the sour taste of stale piss.
All of his years of training and preparation for such battles… and he was still woefully unprepared for the reality.
And he had barely even been here, the others – everyone else – had been living this reality for months, they had become so accustomed to the stench of war that they didn't even notice it anymore. From shy, shrinking violet Hinata, to lazy, good-for-nothing Shikamaru, from arrogant Kiba, to self-centred Ino, from smart, but weak, Sakura, to that pathetic idiot he was only just starting to accept might be his friend. He had never realised how much stronger than him they all were.
How else could they have lived through all this, survived through all this, without such strength?
They were all celebrating now, throwing a party while the smell of burning corpses was still heavy in the air – even two days after the mass funeral held to honour the poor, dead, nameless souls whom most had never even known.
Everyone mourning friends, family, lovers, leaning on complete strangers for comfort, for solidarity in shared pain.
But he hadn't been there. He had no one to mourn.
His presence would be little more than an insult, to people he never knew, never cared about; this war had cost so much, but he couldn't feel anything more than indifference. He wondered if that made him worse than Madara.
Even now, when the time for sorrow had passed, soldiers of every nation had come together to instead celebrate their victory, to release all the fear and tension that they must've been carrying since before the battle even started.
He hadn't been there either. He had nothing to celebrate.
Naruto had, of course, tried to talk him into it, but he knew that the only thing his presence would bring to the party would be a sense of discomfort and distrust, even those he had grown up with were varying degrees of awkward around him and suspicious of his presence, why would strangers from other nations see him as anything other than the S-ranked criminal he was?
So, he had convinced his first – only – friend that he should go without him and leave him in peace. Naruto had accepted it surprisingly easily and run off to meet Sakura.
He didn't know if he should be hurt by that or not. For all that the blond had stayed exactly as he had been as a child, something about him had definitely changed, matured; he was still the stubborn little brat who'd persistently chased after him for three years, but there was an undefinable distance between them, so even now that he'd gotten his way, finally dragged Sasuke kicking and screaming back into the light, he didn't follow him around like a lost puppy as he'd expected and wasn't keeping him constantly in sight so he couldn't run away again, instead he was spending his time with the other rookies, with his other friends.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to punch him again, but, most of all, he wanted to be alone, where no one would see him so weak and confused and pathetic.
As he drifted across the empty battlefield, he noticed the air starting to clear; he could now see ten feet ahead, rather than two, the tiny pinpricks of light in the sky were actually starting to bring light to the world below and he could now breath in something other than ash and dust. Had he really wandered so far from the camp?
No, he could still hear the distant revelry, he hadn't gone that far, so why…
Oh.
He came to an abrupt halt, just inside the distinct circle of air that was perfectly clear and calm, letting the moonlight filter down – and somehow it still made him uncomfortable, even now that it was once again little more than a bright, white orb in the night sky – with a lone figure sitting directly in the middle of it. He didn't need to see his face to know who it was, if the distinctive hair wasn't enough to clue him in, the gourd he was leaning against was. Gaara almost didn't appear to have noticed him, his back was turned and his stance suggested that he was in deep meditation, but the miniscule tensing of his shoulders quickly let him know that he'd been sensed.
Neither one spoke for a long moment, he noted the circle they were in was gradually expanding and contracting, perfectly in sync with Gaara's breathing, maybe this was some kind of control exercise.
Most of him wanted to leave, of all the people he wanted to interact with right now, this man was not one of them and he was sure the feeling would be mutual, but, at the same time… he'd always felt a strange, dark connection with him, more than Naruto, more than Kakashi, Gaara had always seen the darkest parts of his being and accepted them, encouraged them even, as long ago as that had been.
He took an infuriatingly nervous step forwards, then – when the Kazekage made no move more threatening than releasing the deep breath he'd taken – he took another, more confident.
Gaara only opened his eyes to look at him when he finally dropped to the ground beside him and mimicked his meditation posture, even then it was only from the corner of his eye, his profile as unreadable as ever, in that way Sasuke still remembered from their youth; apparently some things about him never changed.
But, other things had. He'd not been living under a rock these past few years, Orochimaru's spy network was effective, if nothing else. He'd immediately heard when Gaara had become Kazekage, part of him was shocked – he couldn't reconcile the image of the Third, old, wise and kindly, with his sharp memories of the cold, wild, bloodthirsty boy who'd once bested him – but it made a certain kind of sense, the position of Kage was after all ultimately one of power and Gaara was undeniably that.
And then the other stories of him had started coming; the young, progressive leader who ruled his council with an iron fist, but his subjects with a kind heart, the man who was dragging his failing country back into relevance, who had the love of his people, who'd sacrificed himself for them.
He'd not believed that for a very long time. In fact, it was only in the last week, when Naruto was attempting to catch him up on everything that he'd missed, that he found out that, not only was it true, but he'd died for them. The terrifying, violent kid who'd boasted of his ability to 'love only himself', who'd actively encouraged him to do the same, had changed so drastically that he willingly gave up his life to protect people who'd never given him anything but hate.
Gaara certainly wasn't the only one to change – he thought of Shikamaru's suspicious, keen eyes, of Chouji's quiet strength, of Ino's determination to help others in the face of her father's death, of Kiba's private threats should he ever hurt his friends again, of Hinata's cool composure, of Shino's silent compassion, of Lee's tempered positivity, even after everything that had happened, of Tenten's unexpected leadership… of Sakura's soothing touch and hard gaze, of Naruto's matured outlook and intense resolve to change the world for the better – but even so, Gaara had to have changed more than anyone.
To think that they had started in such similar places, why was it that they ended up sitting here now as such different people? The former killer, turned war hero and the former hope of his village, returning as a wanted criminal. In another time would their places have switched? Or, was it simply their true natures overcoming nurture?
The silence was probably awkward, but surprisingly comfortable, if only because neither of them had ever been ones for needless talking, however the looming shroud of things that needed to be said was threatening to suffocate him and clearly Gaara wasn't going to start this conversation.
"I'm surprised that I haven't been arrested yet. Or executed." It was, perhaps, not the smoothest opener, but he doubted that his companion would care about that.
He didn't speak immediately, but when he did, it was with a voice that suggested exhaustion. "They are still discussing your fate, most of the Lords and Kage would like to have your head, but Tsunade-sama has been fighting viciously for your safety-" he made a huffing noise that might've been a chuckle from anyone else, "-I do not believe the others will last long against her."
That was unsurprising, while she had made her personal distaste for him abundantly clear, she cared too much about Naruto to let his friend be taken away when he'd only just got him back. "And, what about you?"
Gaara made a sharp inhale, the stark ring of clear air suddenly contracting a few inches. Apparently he wasn't quite as amiable as he had appeared on the outside. "You've hurt Naruto deeply, more than I think you realise. I will never be able to forget that, though one day I might forgive, however… I do understand. Everyone deserves a chance, to believe otherwise would be hypocritical."
"Hn." He felt there was something he should say in response to that, a conformation that he was going to take that chance maybe; but honestly, he didn't see the point, no one other than Naruto had believed him thus far and he had no desire to prove himself.
They sat in silent meditation for a while longer, Gaara still practising his control by pushing back the granules drifting on the breeze and Sasuke taking a welcome opportunity to breath the clear air.
Eventually though, the silence was broken.
"Your eyes, they have changed," his voice was soft, but something about it demanded upmost attention, he wondered if that was a side effect of being a Kage, or if it had always been there, "I am, glad, to see it."
"Yeah, well… I guess I no longer have any desire to live in the darkness."
Eyes that shone silver in this light glanced over at him, before they closed again. "No, there is always a desire. Darkness is comfort, it is familiarity, it is safety, even when you discover how much lighter you feel by day, night always comes and your shadow will always weigh you down. But, eventually, the need for darkness will lessen."
"Is that really any way to live? Always seeking the light, knowing that you'll be dragged down by your own nature, no matter how much you fight…"
His eyes opened again and this time he actually turned his head to look directly at him, that gesture alone imprinted the importance of this moment. "It is the only way to live, anything else is not living, you know that as well as I. You fight, or you are consumed. But, you need not worry, you have friends – many more than I ever did – who will hold you up, who will help you carry that weight. They will be both your salvation and your crutch, at least until you find a new purpose to drive you forward."
Sasuke quickly clamped down on the tremble that was threatening to break his voice and drew up the comfortable mask of indifference that – for the first time in a long time – was threatening to fall, "So that's it? Just lean on your friends and everything will be fine?" he said, his attempts to hide his turbulent emotions just made him sound bitter, but that was ok, anything as long as he didn't look weak-
"When it is the ones you love who have caused you the most pain, it is difficult to learn how to trust again."
Again, again he had somehow seen right through all the bullshit and cut a wound deeper than any he'd ever gotten in battle, he'd seen the fears he tried to keep hidden, even from himself and spoke them so plainly that he could no longer deny the fact that he was weak, useless, pathetic!
He knew his mask had crumbled to pieces, his body might not be visibly disturbed, but he felt like he was trebling like a leaf in a gale, his insides twisting and lurching and when he spoke, his voice was even shakier, "Is it even possible?"
Gaara took a distressingly long time to answer, every second grinding away at his patience and nerves.
"Yes, eventually, but it takes a lot of time and hard work… from both parties. Have you told him your feelings?"
"What do you think?"
"Then, you should tell him. He will understand and he will do everything in his power to make this transition as comfortable as possible for you," he said, in his deep, quiet, surprisingly soothing, tone. With one last deep breath, he pushed himself gracefully to his feet and idly brushed the dust off his clothes. "The process can only start when you decide to take those first steps into the fearful unknown, however… I don't think you need to worry. After all, you've already made them." He turned to walk back to the camp, sending once last glance over his shoulder, before disappearing into the haze.
Sasuke stayed in the circle of calm a little while longer, thinking over the conversation and the implications of it, the air around him stayed clear and breathable long after Gaara had left.
Eventually, he stood up, and walked to the hard line between the cool night and where the atmosphere filled with dust and sand and ash.
He stepped forwards, into the fearful unknown.