Redemption

Sasuke continued to walk along the path. The sight of the pale sky above him and the trees surrounding the landscape with the leaves dancing did not clear his mind. His thoughts, as always since returning to Konohagakure, was on the distant yet near past. Shortly after the Fourth Shinobi World War had ended, Sasuke had left the village that he once desired to destroy. Even now fifteen years after the battle with Naruto, Sasuke still didn't feel at ease in Konohagakure. Although the glares and the muted whispers had stopped, Sasuke felt that he didn't deserve to be there.

He had once desired to destroy everything that had meaning to Itachi and everything that stood in his path. How could he live and breathe in the same place that he once wanted to cease to exist? Even though it appeared that the village had forgiven him for the sins of his youth, Sasuke had yet to feel redemption for himself.

Sasuke's path had caused blood to be shed and tears to flow. At times, he could still remember the feeling of hate and exhilaration rushing through him as he killed Danzō. So much blood… Sasuke thought. During his darkest of moments, he had abandoned his so-called comrades and had almost killed one of them. The lack of emotion he still remembers. Back then, all he wanted was to destroy. Nothing else mattered, not even Itachi. Enough time had passed that Sasuke acknowledged that the revenge he sought after his older brother had died had not been for his sake at all. I thought of no one but myself back then, Sasuke thought as he continued to think about the teen that had been so full of rage and hate.

And I didn't even care about what I was doing to myself. Sasuke wondered why anyone accepted him for he was when he couldn't accept himself. Fifteen years after the hell ended, the seep of regret tormented him. It felt as if phantom pain stubbornly coursed through his body every time he looked at someone he loved, especially Sarada.

Sarada… Sasuke stopped and closed his eyes. His daughter had only recently entered the Academy, and yet she was already first in her class. Sasuke smirked at the thought. He was proud of her, and he loved her even though she didn't know it. He didn't want her to be stained by his past. Sakura had told him many times that their daughter was not ashamed of him or his past, but Sasuke didn't believe her. There were times when he wondered why Sarada continued to embrace him with warm arms despite not being involved in much in her life. Why did she not hate him? The Uchiha name was stained because of him. He remembered the time when she asked him if he would sew the Uchiha crest on the back of her clothes as a toddler.

Her dark innocent eyes widened in confusion when her father didn't answer and didn't return for hours, leaving her in the somber arms of her mother. Sasuke remembered too of the time when she was born; of how when he held her for the first time that a surge of happiness that he hadn't felt since the Uchiha Clan Massacre, and of the smile on his face as he allowed himself to cry. He remembered of how her bleary eyes looked at him and of how innocent she appeared to be. Sarada was in the loving care of her mother, and Sasuke wanted it that way. Someday Sarada would rightfully hate him when she would find out the truth. He didn't deserve to have her.

Sakura's tears vividly appeared in his mind. She cried so much, and I was the cause of it. She had loved him since they were children, and somehow her love had never faded despite him going deeper into the darkness. Not even when Sasuke had put her into a horrific genjutsu did her love stop. A part of him wanted Sakura to forget him during the two years of his self-imposed exile. Her pain and agony was because of his existence. Sasuke could not place how he felt about her. He had thanked her twice before he left Konohagakure, once at thirteen and again at seventeen. "I'll see you soon. Thank you…" The gesture that Itachi had given him as a child went through his mind as he said those words to her, and he softly smiled inside as genuine affection seeped through his words. Sasuke didn't want to her again. He wasn't certain what true love was until he kissed her on their wedding day.

Sasuke knew that he had done wrong almost his entire life, and sough to redeem himself by seeing the world with eyes unclouded by hate. The world had become peaceful since the Fourth Shinobi World War's end, and Sasuke enjoyed seeing the happiness and smiles on people's faces. Although much time had passed, Sasuke continued to feel to need to help people in any way he could. It was his way of redemption. It was quite odd, but people from around the world recognized him, calling him hōrō sha no yasashii, meaning kind wanderer. Although Sasuke was silent when they referred to him as such, he didn't believe he should have such a title.

He recalled Sakura's laughter when he had first told her this before Sarada was born, and recalled of how she smiled softly as he reached his hands on her pregnant stomach. Sarada's first word had been otōchan and he remembered her wide eyes as she wanted him to pick him up in her arms. How many times had he been gone from her life? How long would it be until she hated him for his constant absence?

A part of him ached to see them both again.

Another part of him whispered that he wasn't clean, that he wasn't pure, and he would shouldn't associate with them for what he had done.

And yet…the memories that had made him smile so much were there.

Sasuke smiled softly, thinking of them. He was grateful that Sakura understood that he still felt that his sins had not yet been washed away. "No matter of how long it takes, I'll still be waiting for you." Her soft melodic words echoed in his mind. Sarada too understood to an extent. She could understand partly why her father could not be much in her life, and although Sasuke believed himself unworthy of her, he still felt grateful that she could understand his reasons.

Until Sasuke felt in his heart that his redemption had been made, he would continue his self-imposed exile and live in the past. Only when he came home again would he allow himself to let go.

Until then, he was content with only having one arm.