Crossing Stars
Yugao
Summary: A marriage is arranged between the children of powerful daimyos; for her clan's sake, a young woman needs to intervene. A straggler of an avenger strives to keep her from ruining their lives – as well as her own.
Author's Note: It's a huge love quadrilateral, the perennial bunch of SakuraNejiTentenSasuke in this multi-chaptered AU. I dreamed it up in library period, so here it is… a romance/action/adventure piece for you guys. Someone once asked me to do an AU NTS, so I've just added Sakura into the mix for some weird reason (since I'm not quite so good at writing her.) I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: There's nothing in Naruto I own.
Chapter 1… Love on Borrowed Time
The sun was still low in the eastern sky as two majestic brown horses led an ornate wooden carriage. The road was long, winding, and dusty, but the curtains were pulled over the doors and windows, keeping the outside from the riders' view. Still, a pair of vibrant green eyes peeked out from behind the curtains and out into the vast expanse of the landscape that surrounded them.
"Sakura-sama, close the curtain. Neither your father nor your future husband will be pleased if you become blinded by the dust on the road," her guardian said languidly as he peered at her from behind his book. The man looked rather lopsided in some way, with a mask covering most of his face and his white hair in disarray. Still, he was one of her father's most trusted advisers as well as an incredibly skilled warrior, and she was in no position to underestimate his capabilities, whatever those were.
She sighed as she brushed a few stray strands of pink hair from her pale face. She was dressed formally, rather too stiffly for her taste – her hair was tied up away from her face in a tight bun, with a little falling to her chin and framing her face. She wore a traditional red kimono, with billowy sleeves and magnificent cherry blossom embroidery from the knee down. Her under-robe was black, lined at the hem by russet-colored blooms. A black silk obi belt cinched her small waist, and a pair of red zori completed her princess-worthy appearance.
She gave him a dry smile. "I'm sorry, Kakashi-san, it's just that I was trying to push my engagement out of my mind, and I thank you greatly for reminding me once again."
"Sarcasm isn't a thing men want to see in their wives," he replied with similar flatness. He flipped his book closed and looked at her again. "In any case, there's not much use trying to forget about it. The very purpose we're traveling to the city-state of Higure is so that we could finalize the marriage dowry and the like. It's almost certain, now."
She sighed again, this time more from sadness than exasperation. She frowned at him. "I know that our village of Akegata would benefit much from my marriage with the daimyo's nephew, but I just can't help but feel I'm just a commodity being traded off for our people's future."
"Sad as that is, you'll be revered as a heroine. And who knows, maybe you'll come to like the young man. I hear he is quite an impressive warrior even at his age," he answered bluntly, because he had never been one for sympathy, "At least you should give him that much of a chance, Sakura-sama."
Sakura smiled wryly. "If it wasn't for my father, I wouldn't agree to this. I know he's been suffering lately from his sickness, and I just don't want to put more pressure on him than is already there. Alone, I'm not sure I can restore Akegata's economy and trade relations, and as far as any of our advisers can see, this solution is the best for everyone… but me."
"Come now. Don't tell me that if both your parents were well you'd rebel against such an idea. You know this was his plan to begin with, and his illness is beside the point," he pointed out. "And who knows? Perhaps it'll be the best solution for you as well. Everyone has started to say it was about time you settled down. Though personally, I believe you too young even at nineteen – when most girls your age have given birth twice over."
She giggled. She liked that about Kakashi – he was always honest with what he thought, and often his insights were both wise and amusing. "Well, I'm not really one to disobey my parents," she replied, adding, "But in situations like this, when true love is at stake, I have to wonder which is more important. I've always dreamt of having a love story the kind we see in legends, but now, it's almost certain that I won't. I just can't help but feel rather disappointed I was never given the chance to meet the one meant for me."
"True love, huh? As the daughter of the daimyo of Akegata and the bride of the future daimyo of Higure, that's an idea you'll have to forget," he said with finality. At this time the man had returned to his book, finding the characters presented there more interesting than a debate on the existence of true love.
There was an awkward silence in the carriage, and Sakura once again found herself looking out onto the long, dusty, winding road.
Apple and vanilla candles, as well as sweet-scented incense, fragranced the whole room; they were comforting amidst the stern marble memorials. The ancestral shrine was shrouded more in darkness than in light, the doors and windows were turned away from the direction of the still-rising sun. Etched on the austere black stone were different names dating back to the very first Hyuuga, the very first daimyo of Higure. Before them, a young man bowed humbly, pressing his forehead to the cold, unforgiving stone in prayer.
Slowly he pushed himself up, having said his praise and devotions to the great clan members who came before him. He knelt there in the center of the shrine, his eyes closed; for a moment, his heart was filled with satiety and contentment. He was blessed with the peace of mind that so often escaped him.
Such feelings were shattered when he opened his eyes once more.
His dark brown hair was long, falling down to his back but tied neatly away from his face. His skin was pale, and his eyes an equally pallid amethyst-gray. His face was a mask of indifference and coldness, as it always was. His clothes were simple, yet he carried them with a regal air, suggesting nobility in his blood. Usually, he was one to appreciate the simple, austere beauty of the ancestral tablets, the marble floor, and even the peaceful scents mingling in the air – but that day was different.
That day, Hyuuga Neji needed his ancestors' indulgence more than ever.
"Neji-nii-san?" a soft, gentle voice came from behind him, and he stood and turned to look at whoever had called for him – though of course, after all those years, he had learned to recognize his younger cousin's voice.
"Hinata-sama," he replied, acknowledging her presence. The girl was timid, with wide, almost opalescent eyes; her hair was black and chin-length, framing a delicate porcelain face. Her clothes were similar to his own – elegant in their simplicity. She didn't look up at him directly, and it came as no surprise to him; instead, her eyes were to the ground before him. He watched her, and asked, "Were you looking for me?"
She nodded. "I've been seeking you all around the grounds, and one of the servants told me I would find you here. An emissary of Akegata has arrived, announcing that Sakura-sama and her guardian are on their way and are expected by tomorrow."
"Hn," he replied, mostly because he didn't quite know how to react. The arranged marriage was a little twist of fate he didn't understand, and he preferred not to think about it too much. He stepped out from the shadowy ancestral shrine and out into the garden, which was blanketed in soft yellow early morning light.
Hinata looked at him worriedly. "Neji-nii-san is not looking forward to meeting Sakura-sama?" she asked, genuinely curious. She had always looked up to her cousin, and the thought that he was adverse to the decision of the present daimyo, her father, troubled her somewhat. "I believe I heard from Otou-san that if all negotiations go well between him and Sakura-sama's guardian, the wedding will be set two months from tomorrow."
"Two months," he repeated, more in a reassuring statement than a question of whether he heard her correctly. He was at least relieved that it wasn't forced to be the priority in his mind at the moment. There was so much else to see to, and he didn't think he was too ecstatic about the plans for arranged marriage.
Taking his reply differently, his cousin wondered before asking, "Neji-nii-san thinks it is too far off? Several of Otou-san's advisers think so as well, but personally I believe you would want to get to know your future bride before the marriage actually takes place…"
"Hinata-sama, please stop," he said softly, as descended the stone steps from the ancestral shrine, "I'd rather be by myself at the moment."
And the girl stood there quietly, trying so hard to understand what he was going through, but failing. She watched his retreating form, wanting nothing more than to let him trust her with how he felt.
Block.
Parry.
Thrust.
Cut.
Kill.
He was well acquainted with the infamous mercenary's code, young as he was. No, he didn't sell his fighting skill and his precious time for money, or for anything in that matter. After he fled his homeland in search of revenge, he had often mused to himself that, like the assassins had to do, he had to tear his heart from the rest of him. He knew that if he ever allowed pity to overcome him, he would never accomplish his mission.
He smirked at the mere thought of how many people had fallen by his sword, how much blood had stained his hands. His sympathy, or whatever was left of it after the tragedy, was gone, along with the rest of what truly made him human. The only emotion he had allowed to control him was anger; it fueled his hatred and eradicated the feeling of humanness, of weakness.
He closed his dark, contemplative eyes and allowed himself a small sigh as he ran a hand through his dark hair. His clothes were a little more presentable than an ordinary traveler's: he wore a blue-gray kimono with a slightly darker hakama, and on his back he carried a long, slim black scabbard, one that hid a katana his mentor had once entrusted him.
He cut a path through the gnarled woods, not with the anxious speed of one being preyed upon, or the carefree wandering of a child; he walked with the measured pace of one used to walking, and that he was. He had been to so many places, seen so much, heard so much, knew so much… but he felt nothing.
He preferred traversing through the wilderness than through towns; whenever he had the chance he left the peaceful little villages to take a longer and more dangerous path through the forests that lined the hillside. He despised the communities; they reminded him too much of the bitter memories he had in the life he had long turned his back on.
He remembered one time, as he entered a village for a short while, when a little girl walked straight up to him, wide-eyed, innocent, and naïve; too gullible and trusting for her own good. She smiled up at him, and asked, "What's your name?"
And he knew not what to answer. He was no longer Uchiha Sasuke, his childhood self who reveled in games and the company of friends. He wasn't Akegata's silent warrior, especially not when he turned his back on them to pursue a greater calling: revenge. He did not want anything to do with that life, that part of him, anymore. He had grown stronger, immensely powerful, and fiercely independent. His past was something to be forgotten.
So, without a name to give the child or the interest with which to give one, he walked straight past her, leaving her standing there in confusion. Usually, the people who passed through their village were friendly enough to delight in the naïveté present in every child; he was an exception.
He vowed never to return to that village again.
He paused awhile, and for a moment it seemed the world around him froze: the sky, peeking in through the highest boughs of the trees that encircled him, was a bright blue. Shafts of sunlight broke in from treetops here and there. Lush green foliage surrounded him; somewhere high up in the trees, birds were twittering in their usual gaiety. But for all its beauty he felt only emptiness inside.
And so this was how he lived: alone in the world, revenge being his sole purpose. He told himself it was his reason for being, the end he needed to accomplish to have reason to salvage the spirit he had thrown away.
A windmill shuriken cut through the still mid-morning air, its metallic sheen giving the allusion to a morbid glimmer. It spun dangerously close to a young woman, forcing her to cartwheel out of the way to evade it. Usually she didn't resort to such fancy stunts in mere training sessions, but her sparring partner didn't usually make the margin so lethally close with a particularly deadly weapon, either. She scoffed at the miss, mischief in her eyes.
No sooner had she moved, yet another young woman swept down from the trees to catch the spiraling weapon in one hand. She caught it with ease in one of her slightly calloused hands, yet she didn't appear so proud of her expertise at the moment. Her brown hair, usually neatly tied up in two buns, fell down to her shoulders in the heat of battle; a frustrated yet determined look was in her dark brown eyes.
The first woman lunged at her, kunai in hand, with indeterminable speed. In defense she lifted the fuuma shuriken she was holding, and metal met metal, emitting a few sparks that died as quickly as they came.
"Sorry to interrupt," came a young man's voice, "But Gaara-sama sent for you, Tenten."
At once, the two warriors paused to catch their breath. The first, a tall woman with wheat-blond hair and striking eyes, chuckled between breathless gasps. "And when Gaara-sama calls, you'd do well to come at once."
"Sorry, Temari. I hope you don't mind," the other said, smiling sadly at her opponent. "Personally, I really would've wanted to finish our fight."
Temari laughed. "Sorry? Don't be. Maybe we can continue our fight elsewhere. Go!" she urged with a wide grin. "I'll see you afterwards."
Tenten smiled, nodded to the young man, and asked, "Do you have any idea why he called for me, Kankuro?" He responded with a shrug, but she didn't miss the knowing, worried look he sent to Temari; soon the three of them sped back towards the camp where the rebel army's leader, Gaara, waited.
She had been a wanderer before Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari took her in and treated her as they would their own sister. She had gone for years aimlessly, but because of them she found herself around people who cared for her, who stood up for their beliefs and protected each other. Sure, she and Temari had had disagreements at first, but the years passed and they had grown close enough to call each other sisters. To them, she was eternally grateful.
She gave a courteous bow to the red-haired, green-eyed young man before she asked, "What do you need of me, Gaara-sama?"
Though he was young, she knew the rebel leader was not to be underestimated. His abilities were still a mystery to her, but she knew just by being around him that he emanated immense power. He was one who commanded respect, if not fear. Still, he looked at her rather anxiously. "Tenten…" He motioned for her to follow him into the tent, and she sat down as he instructed her to. He looked at her expressionlessly before finally saying, "There is a threat being posed against the army, and it needs to be eliminated right away."
"And you want me to do it," she said, purposefully letting it curl into a question.
He nodded. "I have already discussed this with Temari and Kankuro. They believe you are the obvious choice for the mission."
"What does it entail?" she asked.
"The daimyo's daughter, Haruno Sakura, is currently on her way from Akegata to Higure. We have learned that the purpose of the journey is to seal an arranged marriage between her and the nephew of Higure's daimyo," Gaara explained calmly, denying the fact that he thought the matter urgent.
Tenten nodded. "And you do not wish for the union to take place."
"Akegata has always known of our presence, but their armies were too weak to eliminate us. If the land is united with Higure it could possibly bring about our downfall," he pointed out, "So your mission is to stop the wedding at all costs, using any means necessary."
She smirked. "You wish for me to kill one, or the other."
"Or both, if it is needed," he replied listlessly.
There was a long, tense silence in the tent before finally, she stood. "You know I can never refuse anything you ask of me, Gaara-sama. I will be leaving in a few hours, Higure bound."
Author's Note: That was a lot longer than any other chapter I've written, so I guess I have loads more explaining to do than normal. Here I'll help explain the extremely AU plotline, where this is going, the characters, and the like, especially if you didn't understand quite yet. Akegata is the vassal state over which Sakura's father reigns. Apparently, it is also where Sasuke was originally from. Literally it means "dawn." Higure is the vassal state where Hyuuga Hiashi is the current daimyo. Literally, it translates to "nightfall." Rebel armies were common in feudal Japan, because there was a constant power struggle for the position of daimyo (as is suggested in the Bird Country filler arc.) In this fic, Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari lead a rebel army, though there are several other unnamed members as yet.
Phew, that was a mouthful. Please leave a review?