Always
Chapter 1: Revelation
The dank network of corridors under the Uchiha estate were unforgivingly stark. Sunlight was an impermissible component, and sound, equally so.
Tonight, however, brisk, impatient footsteps beat a cacophonous tattoo against the stone path. Someone was hurrying, their stealth forsaken as whoever it was tended to urgent business. There was hardly ever urgent business in the nest. Urgency was reserved for the tumultuous world outside, and none of it was allowed inside their sanctuary.
Zetsu slapped open his door as the footsteps approached his room, and stepped outside. He had been roused from slumber, and was still blinking the sleep from his eyes when he roared, "Oi! Could you please shut the hell up! I'm trying to—!" His eyes widened fearfully when he saw who he was yelling at. Seconds after he had swallowed the rest of his profanities, an arm struck out, smashed into his chest, and hurled him back into his room, where his flying body and flailing arms crushed his bed into splinters.
The footsteps continued without a hiccup in its steady, frantic rhythm.
Kabuto knew who the person was as the footsteps rounded a corner and continued down towards his laboratory. He tsk-ed, annoyed, but fearful. Who was the rat that told Sasuke about his new experiment subject? Swiftly, Kabuto threw the peeled back sheet over her head and busied himself with something else. Just as his hand reached down for a jar of preserved liver, the door slammed open. He felt a prickling chill crawl slowly down his spine.
Two sharingan eyes burned through the darkness, picking Kabuto apart. He offered a friendly smile that came across as more patronizing than affable. "Can I help you—?"
"Where is she?"
Kabuto had had years of experience analyzing Sasuke's behavior, and now even more time since he had joined Taka. Now that the Uchiha was twenty years old, he thought he knew all his behaviors and tendencies. The low voice Sasuke used indicated anger, and perhaps, Kabuto thought, mildly surprised, an underlying anxiety that he had never seen manifested in him before. "Karin?" he inquired innocently, because she was the kunoichi whom Sasuke usually asked for. "I have no idea."
"Playing coy doesn't suit you, Kabuto."
Kabuto desperately wanted to keep the woman Sasuke was talking about for an experiment, but he knew he was throwing himself into a losing battle. Once those sharingan eyes had latched onto him, he had lost whatever resolve he possessed. "Then I don't know who you're talking about."
When Sasuke took a calculating, ominous step towards him, Kabuto involuntarily took one back. Lowering his gaze, Kabuto looked anywhere but into the sharingans. It was not wise to taunt Sasuke. His voice was growing lower, more ominous, and soon, Sasuke would resort to some kind of violent coercion as he usually did. Inwardly, Kabuto sighed. Orochimaru had bred a mini version of himself.
But Sasuke played his game with forced patience. "I'm talking about the Uchiha woman, whom you captured at the outskirts of Konoha half a day ago," he said, disturbingly calm. "The woman who has the sharingan, and who you undoubtedly wanted to keep as an experiment."
Kabuto bumped his glasses up his nose. The game was over. What could he do anyway? Fight Sasuke? 'Haha…. Good one,' he intoned humorlessly to himself when the fleeting notion crossed his mind. He could imagine himself in pieces before Sasuke's feet if the Uchiha caught so much as a faint glow surrounding his hand. "Oh…. That one."
His nonchalance slipped. "Yes, that one," Sasuke snapped viciously.
Kabuto was taken aback. He had never seen Sasuke so anxious and quick to anger outside of combat. Sulkily, Kabuto lifted the sheet he had thrown over the woman's head, slowly, reluctantly, and with unnecessary care. When Sasuke saw her closed eyes and her slow, deep breathing, he gave the medic nin a questioning look. "She's just sedated. I didn't put her under any jutsu," Kabuto explained.
"Is she wounded?"
"No."
Sasuke lifted the woman from the operating table and draped her over his shoulder. He made his way to the door, but before he walked out, Sasuke turned his head halfway towards Kabuto.
Kabuto could see Sasuke's strong profile, the knife-edged nose, the artfully sculpted jaw and chin, and, most prominently, a sharingan glaring at him under a slanted eyebrow. "If you lie to me again, Kabuto, I will split you open from navel to nose." The door slammed shut.
Taka's top medic nin or not, Kabuto could not help but feel a crippling fear when he heard the promise in Sasuke's voice. Sometimes he wished he hadn't eradicated Orochimaru from his body. Without his old master by his side in one form or another, he felt defenseless. Another shiver took hold of Kabuto. Undoubtedly, if he lied to the Uchiha again, he would be feeding the crows with his own intestines.
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Three years of peace was not nearly enough to heal Konoha from the ravages of Pain's destructive rampage. Much of the village had been rebuilt, but some parts of it were left untouched since the incident, standing as the remains of the fateful day. The entire Uchiha property was such a place. Planks of dry, crumbling wood were layered into hills of rubble, and studded with boulders of upturned foundation.
The destruction of his home didn't stop Sasuke from sneaking back into Konoha with Taka and the remnants of the Akatsuki. He had recruited a few other formidable shinobi, who he personally tested before he allowed them membership into his organization. Sasuke, who had devoted himself to one goal at a time before, now had several — to resurrect his clan and to bring Konohagakure down to its knees once more so he could become the Hokage. Soon after, Fire country would crumble to pieces under the power of his organization, and, eventually, the other countries. He had another project under his personal surveillance — Itachi's revival. He was going to accomplish it no matter how many Konoha shinobi he had to sacrifice. Konoha owed those lives to him.
One hundred meters below the Uchiha estate, the secret underground meeting place of the Uchiha clan was spared from Pain's Banshou Tennin. It was now referred to as the Taka Nest, housing more than fifteen of the most powerful, brutal shinobi the world has seen since Pain. Their presence was negated by an impenetrable ninjutsu barrier Karin had set up herself. Sasuke trusted her with the barrier. As a shinobi specialized in sensing chakra, she knew what she was doing. Sasuke did not worry any further when Karin promised that "not even I could find the Nest if I didn't already know where it was."
After Sasuke had seen to some business outside, he returned underground and immediately went back to Kabuto's lab, where he was sure to find him.
"Is there any progress?" Sasuke asked by way of greeting. "You look terrible," he added unsympathetically.
His glasses flashed as Kabuto pushed it up his nose. He knew he looked exhausted, but he felt about three times worse. "No. I can't just revive him like Kimimaro."
Sasuke had heard this excuse before, and he was tired of hearing it, but he was no medic nin, so even though annoyance prickled his mood, he had no right to be impatient with Kabuto.
"Kimimaro died from a disease. Compared to Itachi's condition, Kimimaro's was easy to deal with. Itachi, on the other hand…" Kabuto turned to the clear, liquid filled capsule, where Itachi's body floated amid wires ensnaring him like vines "… Had a more complicated death. We could always force his dead soul out of the corpse and give him another soul, but that would mean only the revival of his body, not his spirit or mind—"
"No," Sasuke objected immediately without even letting Kabuto finish. "That's the last thing I want."
Sasuke's gaze was relentless. Kabuto could feel sweat beading on his forehead. "There's an answer," he blurted out nervously, although he was honest when he said it. "It's just a harder one… and a harder procedure."
Sasuke gave a single, curt nod, even though he wanted to smash the line of glass beakers next to him.
Deciding quickly to change the subject, Kabuto asked, "By the way, how is the Uchiha woman? Is she awake yet?"
"Yes. She is very… uncooperative."
Kabuto skated a cloth across a bloodied scalpel, wiping it clean. "What's her name?"
"Takeda Akira."
"What a masculine name for a girl who looks like that."
"Indeed," Sasuke agreed.
Kabuto stopped, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. He set the scalpel down. "What did you say her last name was?"
"Takeda. Strange, I know, but expected, because her father was not an Uchiha."
"Her mother then—?"
"Yes, her mother was Uchiha Fumiko, a second cousin of mine."
"She told you about her family? I thought you said she was uncooperative."
Smiling a little, Sasuke shrugged. "I didn't need her to tell me. The resemblance is unmistakeable, if not uncanny. I guess the Konoha no hana lives on in Akira."
"The Flower of Konoha…?" Kabuto echoed.
Again, Sasuke shrugged. "Fumiko was famous for her beauty, as was her little sister, although she was less well known, since her exposure to the rest of Konoha was minimal. Fumiko's little sister…." He paused for a moment. "… was Nii-san's girlfriend."
"Itachi killed everyone but you. How could both of them be alive?"
"That's what I thought too. But Fumiko had strong ties in Mizugakure. Her husband was a Mizu shinobi. Unlike the rest of the Uchiha clan, Fumiko traveled out of the village a lot. In any case, Fumiko was insightful enough not to go back to Konoha."
"I find it odd that Itachi would overlook Fumiko, then, if it's common knowledge that she traveled a lot."
"Yes, me too."
"So when we found Akira on the outskirts of Mizugakure…."
"That's where she was actually living."
There was nothing left to say. Sasuke took one more look at Itachi and left with a final message for the medic nin. "For your own sake, Kabuto, don't disappoint me."
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When Akira cracked her eyes open again, she found the same person who had greeted her earlier sitting at a desk near the futon, writing a letter. There was absolute silence except the scratching of the quill. The sedation still lingered in her system. She remembered vaguely waking up once before and then falling asleep again, and she remembered the man, who had insisted she tell him a little something about her. Proudly, Akira remembered refusing to talk.
The man turned to look at her, setting the quill back into the inkwell.
She looked up at him with defiant eyes. "I'm thirsty," she said in a cold, expectant tone that demanded him to get water for her.
"The kitchen is down the hall to your right."
"Get it for me."
Sasuke regarded her silently, and Akira, unaware that her imprudence was directed at one of the most vengeful, powerful shinobi, stared back disdainfully. "Hmph," he scoffed as a smile fret around the corners of his lips, "You'll die of thirst before I agree to get it for you."
"You don't treat your prisoners very well, do you?"
"If I did not think to treat you well, you would be sleeping in the dungeons with a few angry, S class, rogue shinobis. Would you prefer to go there instead?"
"Do they deliver water there?" Akira shot back.
'Definitely an Uchiha,' Sasuke thought, amused as he read the contempt in her gaze. Ignoring her for the time being, Sasuke returned his attention to the letter.
A few minutes passed. Akira rubbed her chapped lips together and felt her throat sticking to itself as it cried out for some moisture. Her dry tongue licked at her drier lips, and then licked again. Akira tried to glare Sasuke into obedience, although it was in vain, because he staunchly kept his gaze focused on the letter. Finally, she sighed. "Down the hall to my right?"
Sasuke's eyes didn't stray from the letter. "Down the hall to your right."
Throwing the blankets off with unnecessary viciousness, Akira stomped down the hall, her annoyance manifesting into a thunderstorm of footsteps.
In his room, previously resting before Akira's nonverbal tantrum woke him, Zetsu scowled and wrenched open the door. He looked to make sure it wasn't Sasuke before roaring, "Could you please shut the hell up?"
"We're trying to sleep!" his other half protested.
Akira whirled around, and saw the former Akatsuki bearing down at her. She looked him up and down. Her nose wrinkled with disgust. "Gross. What the hell are you? Are you supposed to be a plant?"
Zetsu stared at her in disbelief, her brazenness taking him by surprise, before he realized that this woman wasn't supposed to be here. "Who the hell are you?" His fingers wrapped around her throat. As if on cue, Sasuke appear out of nowhere, quill in one hand.
"Her name is Uchiha Akira. She will be staying with us from now on. No one will lay a finger on her."
"My name's Takeda Akira. Ta-ke-da," she had enunciated to him earlier when he kept talking to her about some Uchiha clan. But from her brief chat with Sasuke the first time she awoke, she knew that no matter what she said to him, he will always refer to her as "Uchiha." Who is this Uchiha person anyway? That wasn't her name.
With the soreness in his chest to remind him of what Sasuke could do, Zetsu's fingers slipped from her throat as he lumbered back into his room, grumbling unhappily.
"Down the hall to your right," Sasuke reminded her. "Are you sure you'll be able to handle the last hundred meters?"
Akira caught the sarcasm in his tone. She rubbed her throat, even though it didn't hurt. Sasuke had come before Zetsu could get a good hold. "I think I'll manage," she answered, hurling his sarcasm back.
The kitchen was as barren as the rooms and halls of the nest. Though it was "barren" to Akira, it was "organized" to Sasuke, who liked it this way. Back home, Akira's kitchen was colorful, with food overflowing the countertops. She had inherited her mother's love for the culinary arts, and it showed through the stuffed cabinets and numerous, worn aprons hanging from a coat hanger in the corner of the kitchen. Here, the pots and pans were neatly tucked away, the food all stored in the refrigerator and three other cabinets overhead.
Where were the glasses? Akira opened one cabinet, followed by another and another to no avail. She couldn't find them. Her eyes raised to the second row of cabinets overhead, and then flickered to the sink. Maybe she should just drink with her hands.
Grabbing a stool that squatted by the refrigerator, Akira moved it to the cabinets and stepped onto it, tip-toeing to reach the handle on the doors. When she got it open, she was disappointed to see only stacked bowls and plates.
She moved to close the door. But wait! Her eyes caught a gleam of glass. It was a cup. Akira nearly cried with relief. She quickly brushed the stacked china aside when one of the stool legs snapped.
A falling sensation washed over her. Desperately, Akira grasped at the shelf, and then watched, in horror, as two stacks of plates and bowls slid forward when the shelf gave way under her fingers. With her balance lost, Akira synchronized a fall with the dinnerware towards the linoleum ground. Her eyes shut, and she braced herself for a big bruise and the cacophony of shattering china.
The fall stopped. The shattering was a mere clatter.
There was a dizzying rush from the surge of adrenaline. Akira didn't realize she was leaning against someone's chest until a quiet voice asked, "Are you alright?"
Her eyes were still wide, her face blanch. "Huh?" she breathed shakily.
"I asked you if you were alright." No sign of annoyance broke through the muted voice, but no sign of concern, either.
She was frozen, her back still leaned against the person's chest. Her eyes looked to the side as one arm set the still stacked plates onto the counter, followed by the other arm with the bowls.
"Yeah. I'm alright."
"You're shaking."
"I—" she looked for the right words to describe her state of mind. "I'm just… — I was just scared. The plates —"
There was silence for a moment. The forthcoming crash that didn't happen still rang in Akira's mind.
"Are you ready to get off me now?" Whoever it was, his tone was too polite to be sarcastic.
"Sorry! Sorry…." She was still jumpy. Akira leaned away from the man and turned around to face whoever had stopped the disaster.
"Who are you?" he immediately asked when he saw her. "Are you supposed to be here?"
"N-No…. I mean… this S-Sasuke guy brought me here."
"You're still shaking."
"I was spooked, alright?" she snapped. "I was nearly buried under a stack of china. Who are you, anyway? What's your name?"
"My name is Kimimaro." His pause invited Akira to make a similar introduction.
"I'm Ta-ke-da Akira," Akira said, enunciating her family name. She was going to beat that name into everyone's head — even that Sasuke guy.
Kimimaro's eyebrows lifted slightly. "'Ta-ke-da Akira? Is your family name meant to be said brokenly?"
Glaring, Akira pushed herself away from him. "No, but you better remember it. It's not Uchiha, alright?"
"Why would I call you Uchiha?"
"I don't know. Why don't you ask that Sasuke guy?"
Kimimaro was silent for a moment, and then he understood. So that's what was going on. The resurrection of the clan. He almost felt sorry for her ignorance. He picked up the broken stool and handed her the glass when she asked for it. As he was about to leave, Akira said, "Wait."
He turned back to her. "Um…." Her hands fretted over the glass, turning it over and over in her fingers. "Thanks." She beamed a smile at him, a smile that typically made men woozy.
Akira thought he had just ignored it when he turned away again. She didn't see the very slight, and very rare upward twitch at the corners of his lips.
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Author's Note: Hi, everyone! MaliciousFrost here. I hope you enjoyed the first installment of Always. I had been writing for the Naruto community as pbjsandwich for quite some time, though I've been on hiatus for a while now (a year, I think?). It wasn't until recent that I caught up with the Naruto manga plot line, so if there are a few mistakes, a few holes here and there in my plot, you can tell me, and I'll change it.
Anyway, I'm very excited about this fic, because I'm trying to go for a darker tone. Although… it doesn't seem like it in the first chapter, huh? — sweatdrops — But hey, I said I was going to try =]
As mentioned in the summary, the pairing will be KimimaroXocXSasuke. Er… no slash, sorry XD
I hope you'll return for the next chapter. Feedback is appreciated and loved.