Sasauke was exhausted from running, tired from sleepless nights, and emotionally taxed. Far more than he expected, in fact.

Reaching the final destination with the Sound Four, having given up everything to get to this moment. His home, his friends, any notion of stability.

All of it gone. Like the wind.

It was his choice, of course. He knew he would feel this way and he had spent plenty of hours practicing exactly how he planned to face this man, the one that had offered to train him. But he hadn't understood how it would feel, even if he knew.

But, in any case, his mask was on, his arrogant façade fixed in place.

And he followed the Sound Four into the hideout, down the dreary stairway.

This is what he wanted. He had no delusions about what he was doing. He had researched the man thoroughly and even that had not deterred him, despite the fact the man was a Monster, in every way possible.

It didn't matter if Orochimaru beat him, tortured him, raped him, so long as he could reach his goal. So long as Itachi lay dead before his body in a few years to come, be it inhabited by Orochimaru or otherwise.

Or so he told himself.

(He thought he knew this man, from all the books he read and the tales he heard. It was easy to forget he was once a beloved member of the village when all people had to say about him was that he was pure evil. It was easy to overlook the fact he was a genius when people spoke of his insanity. An oversight, on his part.)

Sasuke stepped into the small, cavernous room lit by candles. It was bare save a shoe rack, on which he followed the lead of the Sound Four and deposited his shoes before turning to face the pale man waiting patiently in the middle of the room, arms crossed.

He looked… not as Sasuke remembered. He did not look monstrous and bloodthirsty, ready to kill at a moment's notice, nor did he look sinister. He simply looked… ready for bed.

It took Sasuke a moment to add this version of Orochimaru to his preconceptions.

His eyeliner was gone, making his eyes look less sharp and angular. His hair was in a loose ponytail, strands hanging loose, and he was wearing a night kimono. He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

Maybe Orochimaru had just woken up to greet them. It was almost one in the morning, after all.

(Maybe Sasuke should have suspected something at the time. Maybe he shouldn't have.)

The Sound Four dropped to their knees in front of their master, but Sasuke remained standing. He didn't know what to expect from the man at this point, but whatever it was Sasuke would take it with his chin held high. He would not bow to him.

Orochimaru seemed to have eyes only for him, not even glancing at the four kneeling forms at his feet. He said nothing about the fact that Sasuke remained on his feet, setting his hands in his pockets as casually as his body would allow.

(An action he'd had time to master after being the student of Kakashi himself, the most aloof of them all.)

Those piercing golden eyes were watching him intently, strangely emotionless.

"Kimmimaro," he said, with no context attached. For a moment Sasuke thought he was addressing him, and his brain froze.

Thankfully, it was not the case.

"Dead," the one with six arms said stiffly.

Orochimaru let out a long sigh.

"You four are dismissed."

And suddenly Sasuke was left alone with this man, this very dangerous man. He didn't know what to expect, did not even know where he was or what this place was that he had come to. All he could do was exude an air of confidence and pretend to be that which he did not feel in the slightest.

Then there was the swish of silent footsteps and suddenly this terrifying man was standing before him. Sasuke stood his ground, clenching his fists to hide the slight tremoring in his fingers. He crafted a glare and aimed it at the man.

For the first time, Orochimaru smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It wasn't ugly, either, it was just… amused. Like Sasuke amused him. Like he knew something Sasuke didn't.

(In hindsight, he did.)

"Come, Sasuke-kun."

Then he turned on his heel and glided towards a door at the end of the room. His gait was far too refined to simply be considered walking; it was elegant and poised, like that of a geisha.

Sasuke grit his teeth and after a moment of gathering himself, he followed.

Orochimaru lead him into a small room with a single couch and a fireplace, a fire crackling warmly in the hearth before the couch. To the side of the two-seater couch was a table with a teapot that had already been filled.

The familiar aroma of a tea he remembered from a much simpler time.

It was cinnamon and jasmine, the odd combination that was the staple of the Uchiha clan. Of course, it wasn't just the Uchiha clan that drank it, it was a rather popular tea all around Iwa and some parts of Konoha. It just so happened that the Uchiha clan had a penchant for serving this tea at meetings and events, and his Mother used to make it for him quite often.

He inhaled the scent discreetly, fond memories returning to him. His stiff shoulders relaxed just the tiniest bit.

His first mistake.

(It really was so obvious what was going on, if only he knew to suspect for such things.)

"Tea, Sasuke-kun?" Orochimaru asked politely, that amused smile still lingering on his lips.

Sasuke frowned at the civility of it all, but…

"Please," he said, in that polite way his mother had taught him.

Orochimaru poured the hot water into the two teacups that were already set out on the small table between the couch and fire. They were intricate teacups too, too; like the ones found at the old tea ceremonies his parents forced him to be part of. And the refined manner in which Orochimaru poured the boiling water reminded him of the gentle housewives (or on higher end ceremonies, geisha) that took on that role. His mother had done it, too.

(The man was far too cunning.)

Sasuke was still standing in the entryway to the room, blank-faced. He was unsure what to make of this situation. He had expected… well, he had not expected this.

Then Orochimaru delicately placed the teapot down and approached him. He reigned in a flinch when he placed a slender, long-fingered hand on his shoulder (gently, gently).

Normally, he would have slapped off the hand. But he was reeling, taking all his energy to keep his indifferent façade fixed. So he allowed it, allowed the man to guide him onto the couch and sit beside him. The couch was just small enough so that their shoulders brushed.

Sasuke took the teacup Orochimaru handed him and held it in his hands, the warmth seeping into the cold, tired bones of his small hands.

They no longer trembled.

(He really should have picked up on the signs.)

For a while, they sat in silence, the fire cackling and spreading warmth and light throughout the room. Only after Orochimaru had taken a sip did Sasuke raise the cup to his lips and do so also.

The flavour was just as he remembered. If he was honest, he didn't like it very much; didn't even like tea as a rule. But it was a comforting flavour, and the tightness in his chest eased just a bit.

(In the future, Sasuke would learn that Orochimaru also didn't like that tea.)

Sasuke did not break the silence between them, did not even look at the man, his eyes on the fire. He watched it move, each flame distinct from the rest, each moment in time creating a new combination of movement. It was familiar in a way it shouldn't be; with each passing millisecond the fire would shift and take on an entirely unique position. Familiar because one could label it 'fire' and still recognise it without realising it was ever changing.

Sasuke had worked with fire a lot, had sometimes spent hours watching it with his sharingan activated. Never would a fire, even a small one such as this, take the same form twice.

Unwillingly his mind drifted when no words were forthcoming from the Monster, and turned to what he had done. The uncertainty welling up inside him despite his efforts to quash it down; thinking of his teammates, wondering if they would hate him forever. The village he had spent all his life in creating bonds, only for him to pull the rug out from under everyone, to undo those years of memories with a single sweep.

Was it worth it, really?

He wouldn't know, not until after everything was said and done. And it was this thought, knowing that he could have made the worst decision of his life and he didn't yet know, that created the first chip in his perfect façade.

He was so lost in thought that he had forgotten where he was, forgotten time itself, and so when there was movement from the corner of his eye, a hand placing a teacup back on the table, he was not entirely aware. Sasuke saw the black hair, the delicate posture, the gentle movement and-

He startled, his head turned, his eyes wide watching as his mother gently took the empty teacup from his hands and placing it down.

But then his mother disappeared and in his place was his new sensei, and he hurried to resume his façade, yet it took a moment longer than it should have and he knew the man had seen, as much as he wished to deny it.

Sasuke looked away and bit his lip, so angry at himself. And his mind was clouded, far more clouded than it should have been. He didn't think anything of it at the time, this strange amount of sluggishness in his thoughts. It could easily be put down as his lack of sleep for the last few days and his mad dash from Konoha.

(Hindsight is 20/20)

His self-hatred at letting his emotions get the better of him for even a second in front of this Monster only made it worse, and suddenly all he could think was-

Everything. Everything to finish that man.

He felt his mask shatter like porcelain.

He faced away from the man, did not dare show him his features, and yet he knew the movement itself was telling. Just like the way his shoulders began to shake, just a little.

He felt humiliation and shame overcome him. He was meant to be ninja. Ninja did not cry, especially not in front of Monsters. He had not cried since the night his clan were massacred. Not only that, he was an Uchiha.

He wanted to leave, wanted to escape this nightmare, yet he did not know where he was, did not know which rooms went where. There was no point.

Still he couldn't stay in this room. Could not lose control of himself in front of the very man he intended to give everything except his pride and dignity. His legs tensed as he prepared himself to bolt, but then…

There was an arm around his shoulders, and he was being pulled to the man's chest, the movement soothing and gentle.

(Trapping him.)

In any other moment, he would have fought. Touch was impermissible. People only touched him if they wanted their bones broken.

But as it was, he was more concerned with trying not to hyperventilate. His body was shuddering, and a small part of him simply could not believe that he, the mighty Sasuke Uchiha, had somehow been reduced to this mess by only a familiar tea, a crackling fire and a well-placed silence.

(And maybe a bit of something else too, sprinkled amongst jasmine and cinnamon.)

He didn't know what was wrong with him, and all he could do was cover his face with shame as the tears began to come.

There was a hand running through his hair and a warm heartbeat against his ear. It reminded him of the times when Itachi would reject his attempts to play, and his father would scorn his progress, and he would run to his mother.

She was so gentle.

This man was terrifyingly good at playing gentle, too.

He didn't know how long they sat there, but Sasuke felt the last strangled sobs escape him, felt tiredness cloud his mind, the exhaustion deepen in his bones.

Felt his consciousness slip away. Such a fatal mistake in the presence of a Monster.

NOTES

So basically I've been wondering how Sasuke would have been received, and how he would have acted when he arrived at Orochimaru's lair for the first time. Personally, if I was running off to some psychopath's hideout, ditching the only safety and security I have, I'd be scared shitless. Bearing in mind that he was only twelve at the time, I did consider that perhaps Sasuke wouldn't have thought his actions through very much, but I decided that since he is supposedly smart he would understand the possible consequences of what he was getting into.

Also I have crafted a very distinct interpretation of Orochimaru. In my opinion, there are many ways he can be interpreted, and if you give it enough thought you could probably wrap your mind around him acting like this.

Anyway, hope you guys liked it! I didn't edit this properly and will probs end up rewriting some of it cos I feel like it has potential but I am way to lazy right now to actually make it good lol. Still it was fun to write.

Feel free to drop your opinions in the review section XD