One Sunday Morning
A/N: Wow, thanks for all the feedback :) FYI, SEQUEL IS UP! Just go to my profile, the story name is Missing the Green, which is from the POV of Sakura. It's a much lighter story than this depressing little one-shot.
Story Summary: A very contemplative Sasuke goes about his Sunday morning, which involves some chance meetings and sad flashbacks. There's really no ships in this story, besides a surprise crack one that I happen to ship very hard. Although if you squint, everything ranging from SasuNaru to SasuIno is implied.
Warnings: A lot of characters not dead in the series will be dead in here. Sorry, not sorry. Kill your darlings, am I right? Also, spoilers! As mentioned in description.
Disclaimer: All rights to Kishimoto and whoever else owns Naruto.
He goes there every morning. As irrational as it sounds, he thinks he is addicted to this ritual. When he is away on long missions and can't make the trip, he becomes anxious and snappy. It's no wonder no one ever voluntarily goes on missions with him.
Well, there are other reasons too, he supposes.
More often than not, there is someone else there. Sometimes there is no exchange of looks, or words, or anything to recognize the other person's presence. And that's just fine with him. He prefers it, actually. Sometimes there's a cool nod of recognition. Sometimes there's just a flicker of a glance, or a glare. He ignores those. This is a quiet place to remember.
And once in a blue moon, he exchanges words with someone.
No one could or would ever call him a talker. Back in the Academy days, swooning girls labeled him as the "strong, silent type"; nowadays, people just call him a tragedy. Or murderer. Traitor. Worst things.
But he doesn't really care. He never did. Besides, everyone he cares about is either dead, or won't look him in the face. Mostly the former.
And that is why he goes to the memorial stone so often. Because there's no one back in his apartment, and there's nowhere to go even if he wanted to socialize. The people he wants to talk to are long gone, and the only mark they left behind is etched in the black marble slab in front of him. Well, there is one person, maybe. But the last time they spoke was 3 years ago. And she only came by to tell him that she had volunteered to be the new Leaf ambassador in Suna, and to say goodbye. It had been awkward and stiff and she didn't linger. Well, what did he expect? That she would suddenly stop hating him?
He thinks he understands why Kakashi used to hide behind his little orange book. Better to be fully engrossed in erotic fiction, than to have to face the dead.
Today is a day like any other. Yes, the sky is prettier. The clouds too. And it's an infamous Sunday morning. According to old wives' tales, Sunday mornings mean something.
But he doesn't care. Of course, he hardly cares about anything. Except the fact that he is going to be sent on a week-long mission to the Sand (he flinches internally. Maybe he would be too busy to see anyone? Particularly a certain pink-haired ambassador?), and this is his last visit for a while. So on his way to the memorial, he stops by the Yamanaka flower shop.
The blonde-haired girl behind the counter arches an eyebrow when he walks in. As she shows no sign of hostility, he offers a carefully neutral "Morning, Yamanaka-san."
"It's just Ino." She smiles slightly at him, and he tries to smile back. But by the way her already tiny smile slipped off her face, it probably came out more like a scowl. Well.
He looks around the florist shop. And realizes that he knows nothing about flowers. Hell, is it blasphemy to bring roses to a memorial? Those are the only flowers I recognize.
"Need help?" Ino offers, suddenly and silently by his side. Automatically, he stiffens and reaches for a kunai. She glances at his hand, frozen halfway to his pouch, but lets it go.
"Hn."
She looks at him carefully. There was only one place this dark-haired man ever went without a concrete assignment to complete. She decided it was safe to assume.
"You'll want white lilies." She says simply, and slips back to her desk. He silently took a bouquet and fingers in his pouch for money.
"No, I don't want payment." The kunoichi says coolly. He almost rolls his eyes, and hands her the coins.
"I'm serious." Firmly, she puts the ryos back in his hand. "Think of it this way. I'm paying homage to them as well; you're just the one making the trip." She eyes him determinedly. He blinks.
"Fine." He smirks, and suddenly Ino is transported back in time to squealing girls and Team 10 and the Konoha 12 (11?) and BBQ and life was so fucking good-
"Well, I'll see you around, Yama- Ino-san." Snapped out of her reverie, she nods at the black-haired shinobi inclining his head at her.
And in a flash, he is gone. And she tries to go back to flowers but goddamnit, that one smirk has the memories flooding back. It hurts like shit too.
The funny thing is, none of her thoughts are centered on the man that just left her store. Because 10 years ago, she'd be singing a different tune.
She's changed, he muses absentmindedly as he makes his way through the streets of Konoha. Hardly anyone else is out at this ungodly hour, so he is left alone to his thoughts. Gone was the squealing fangirl. Gone was the vibrant, almost annoyingly loud kunoichi. Gone was the happiness from her eyes. But the self-confidence and determination bordering on stubbornness was still there, underneath the weary shell.
Remember someone else with that same obnoxious self-assurance and hardheadedness?
He could've sworn his chest just constricted.
He gets to the memorial and the tension in his shoulders eases and he sits down, cross-legged on the grass. Gently, he places the bouquet in front of the black stone, and runs his fingers over the names, no longer newly carved and raw. There are too many names.
And he sits there. Eyes closed, breathing lax. And to an enemy-nin, it may look like he's vulnerable. Letting emotions getting in the way.
Yet scarred he may be and crazy he may be and still (after all these years) grieving he may be but he is always on guard.
He is a far cry from a perfect human being. But Uchiha Sasuke is a perfect shinobi, and sometimes he hopes that will make up for it.
After what may have been 5 minutes or an hour, he senses a chakra signature.
She wordlessly sits down next to him, bowing her head politely.
"Uchiha-sama."
"Hyuuga-sama." He retorts. She takes it in stride, letting a ghost of a smile play across her lips.
"Please, Hinata-san will do." Sasuke can't help but notice that she doesn't request to be called "Hinata-sama", and this may be due to the girl- no, woman's naturally humble nature. But he has a not-at-all unfounded suspicion that "Hinata-sama" brings back unwelcomed memories of a certain fellow prodigy. And he opens his eyes and looks at the memorial stone, and he is right and "Hyuuga Neji" is carved there but it is just one name in the flood of martyrs. His gaze slides to the white lilies and there are three new white roses lying next to his bouquet.
Huh. So roses were acceptable after all.
"Sasuke-kun then." He murmurs. Hinata cocks her head questioningly.
"Call me Sasuke-kun. Since you're so bent on being… equals." He says louder, smirking at the newly made Hyuuga clan head. She inclined her head at him.
"Of course. Are we not equals, as respective clan heads?" Well shit. He could've sworn Hinata just politely, yes, politely smirked back at him. Then he decided he was hallucinating.
"Hn. But they just let me back on the council; something about one-person clans and earning back trust."
"Well, I've only just made Hyuuga clan head too."
"Fair enough, Hinata-san." The conversation lapses, and Sasuke notes her lack of stuttering, or any speech impediment. Unexpected. Of course, he hasn't talked to her in… hmm, a year or two? He can't seem to recall the last time they met. Then again, his life was a cycle of memorial, mission, report, eat, sleep, repeat. He didn't even drink; he already found his drug in the almost-sacred memorial visits and thrill of missions.
He idly looked at her profile, still dim in the early morning. She was meditating, and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd picked this up from Neji. It wouldn't be a surprise if she had; it wasn't unusual for people to remember their deceased loved ones by carrying on routines and habits they had in their lifetime.
Sasuke himself was becoming more and more like Kakashi…
His old sensei always said he and Sasuke were alike in personality; quiet, reserved, moody, distant. They were both the cold, but genius member of their genin team. They were both examples of the ideal shinobi, one who never let personal feelings interfere.
But the difference between him and Kakashi was that Kakashi had learned to love people, back when Sasuke was still wallowing in hatred and vengeance. And in the end, his sensei died protecting his precious people. But did Sasuke ever die for anyone?
He shut his eyes at the thought of the man that died with a smile on his face, managing to choke out last words that had angels banging their heads on walls.
"Can someone retrieve my Icha Icha collection from my apartment? Esteemed literature like that shouldn't be left to collect dust. Oh, and please take a look at it too; it holds shinobi secret techniques. Really. Would I ever lie to you?"
And because there was no one else to grant Kakashi's dying wish, Sasuke did it. And regretted ever feeling sentimental enough to.
After nearly being killed by the countless traps Kakashi had set, he'd made it to the famed shinobi's bedroom, where the Icha Icha series was shelved by his bed, in all it's perverted glory. He couldn't believe he'd just brushed shoulders with death for five books that were definitely not "esteemed literature" like Kakashi said.
As for the supposed techniques hidden in the text? Sasuke never found out if they existed. He'd yelped in a most un-Sasuke-like fashion and tossed Icha Icha Paradise up and away like it was scalding hot after a paragraph in. Jiraiya would've probably twitched and pompously said that Sasuke just didn't understand the unbounded passion in his writing.
All Sasuke had to say on the matter was that he hoped no one ever broke into his apartment, went to his bedroom, opened his closet and found the Icha Icha series gathering more dust than it would've at Kakashi's abandoned apartment.
That same day, he took home Kakashi's photos of Team Kakashi and Team Minato as well.
He didn't know why.
"I hate you." The voice was low and quiet, yet held so much pain and loathing and fear and despair, and the owner was of the voice just a projector for all the people who also hated him and blamed him and wanted his guts ripped out and strewn in a victory path.
The sky was clear and blue and pretty. The sun was out, brilliant and shining, and why the hell was nature mocking him?
"You know who should've died? You." Sakura's voice carried on, trembling with her weight of grief, but he was numb. He was numb to it all. "Or me. Or anyone, anyone except for Kakashi-sensei and Sai and Yamato and Chouji and Neji and Ino's and Shikamaru's fathers and everyone else. Anyone, and everyone, except for Naruto." And her voice breaks at his name, and Sasuke feels himself flinch. Her glazed-over green eyes bore into his.
"Why? Why? He was supposed to be Hokage, dammit!" she sobs and sobs but he cannot hold her shoulder he cannot touch her because if he does he knows she will kill him and he will be happy to die. But he cannot let Sakura live with more guilt so he doesn't reach out a hand and he stands there, still as ever.
"How dare you show up to his funeral? How dare you?" her voice shakes with fury. "Where were you all those years? Why did you come back to Konoha's side? Do you want to properly restore your clan now? Do you want to be Hokage, Sasuke-kun?" she laughs, a bitter and hollow and terrible sound. But he still says nothing, and wonders at the monster he has created inside this girl.
But she collapses on the ground, hugging her knees, rocking back and forth. She sobs and sobs and sobs and murmurs "Naruto, Naruto, Naruto…" over and over and he knows the other male members of Team 7 would've held her. But they're dead and he cannot.
And for the first time since he killed Itachi, he cries. Underneath the blazing sun and chirping birds and forest canopy, he cries because Team 7 was cursed from the beginning. Because in the end, he still loses everything the moment he realizes he has something.
"Who do you come here for, Sasuke-kun?" Hinata's quiet voice breaks the silence.
Sasuke opens one eye and contemplates the question.
"Kakashi…sensei. Itachi. … and Naruto." Each name is enunciated carefully, and he still flinches internally at the last one. Memories come flooding back, unbidden; a hunt for demon cats and a long, frustrated, almost-fatal battle and "dattebayo!" and Ichiraku Ramen and angry words but he pushes them all back in his mind when his throat tightens.
"I come here for Naruto-kun too." Hinata says softly, and her voice is so pained and sad that Sasuke doesn't feel the usual surge of possessiveness when anyone else mentions the blond's name and how much they miss him.
It had always been a known fact amongst all of Konoha, with the exception of the oblivious person involved, that Hinata liked Naruto. A lot. Enough to go beet red and faint every time he so much as looked at her.
Naruto never caught on though. Idiot. And the schoolgirl crush Hinata had for Naruto probably developed into something deeper, except Sasuke didn't come back long enough to take note of it. He pretty much came back, and then the next instant Naruto died.
A bitter smile twisted his lips. The way Hinata loved Naruto was so similar to the way Sakura loved him. Or used to, anyway. She probably mildly detested him at the very best now.
"And Neji-niisan." Hinata looked down at her folded hands. He glanced at her. To his surprise, she wasn't crying, just looking sad again.
Sasuke felt like he should break the heavy silence with something. A hand on her shoulder, a "They're in a better place now." But the thought almost made him laugh. Shinobi didn't go to better places.
"Sasuke." He looked up in surprise, and was caught in Hinata's searching gaze. Why did she drop the suffix? But what she said next made all his ruminations scatter and brain go blank.
"It wasn't your fault."
Sasuke's mind went reeling, into high states of Disbelief and Shock and Confusion. He hadn't been there in a while; well, what did he expect? He didn't lead the most exciting life. Memorial, mission, report, eat, sleep, repeat.
He knew exactly what Hinata was talking about. In the battle with Uchiha Obito, he and Naruto had landed a combined Chidori-Rasengan on the Ten-Tails' jinchuuriki. Of course, they should've known it wasn't enough to kill a demon beast and it's owner.
At the last moment, when they were almost celebrating their victory, Obito had lashed out with one final attack, desperate to take someone down with him.
"The Uchiha line dies with you and I, Sasuke."
But Naruto had other plans. Or maybe he didn't.
Either way, Naruto had stumbled, right in the path of the attack headed straight for Sasuke. On accident, or on purpose?
Who the fuck knew?
Sasuke went rigid with horror, as the whole thing playing out in slow motion. Naruto turned his head to face Sasuke, an obnoxious smirk on his face, masking regrets of never fulfilling his dream and leaving all the people that loved him. But no fear. Dobe. Who else shows no fear in the face of certain, impending death?
"Goodbye, douchebag. You owe me one."
And then Naruto's abdomen was ripped through, and his guts and blood and his body all fell on Sasuke, who could only stared in shock as Sakura's scream rang through the air.
"Even if it wasn't, either way, I died or he died." Sasuke said harshly, snapped back to reality. "And other people don't exactly agree with you, Hinata-san."
"Then they're all wrong." Hinata's eyes burned with a fire that no one in the Hyuuga clan, not even her father, had thought her capable of. "Naruto-kun chose to die for you. Obito is the only one to blame; he's the one who dealt the blow, isn't he?"
And now Sasuke was convinced both he and Hinata had gone senile.
He'd said more words in the course of two hours to Hinata and Ino than he had probably said in a year. And the Hyuuga heiress wasn't exactly known for word vomit. Quite the opposite, actually.
"..Hn." He had nothing else to say. But Hinata seemed to take this as an acceptable response, and went back to her meditating.
"Have you heard anything from Sakura lately?" The damned words fell from his mouth before he could stop himself. But Hinata graciously made no comment, uttered no curious Why? He thanked Kami for sensible women.
Hinata paused for a second, like she was turning something over in her mind. She opened her mouth, but closed it again. Sasuke resisted the urge to tell her to just spit it out, because then she would probably leave the memorial and never speak to him again.
"She's getting married to the Kazekage."
For the second time that day, Sasuke's mind went completely blank. Then-
"What?" In Sasuke-speak, as Naruto would've said, this was akin to screaming loud enough for the entire world to hear and breaking something and storming over to Suna and grabbing the Kazekage and his apparently bride-to-be and shaking them until they threw up answers.
But he was talking in Sasuke-speak, so he only sounded mildly incredulous. Okay, maybe more than mildly, because last time he checked Gaara and Sakura had exchanged little more than a few conversations in their lifetime. But then again, he hadn't really checked up on Sakura. Ever.
Hinata raised a hand to her mouth, and he could've sworn that cough was actually a suppressed chuckle.
To Sasuke's relief, the Hyuuga didn't say curiously, "What, she never told you?" He wasn't surprised. If he had received a letter of notification, or Kami forbid a wedding invitation, he would've written it off as a cruel joke fate was playing on him and gone drinking. And Sasuke didn't drink.
"Their children are going to have ridiculous hair color." He muttered, and Hinata laughed, light and tinkling and elegant and surprising. He smirked in spite of himself. "But no one's going to dare to make fun of them, not when their guts are being ripped out by Gaara and Sakura, and then again by the most volatile and dangerous little kids to ever walk the earth."
He wondered what this heavy feeling in his gut was. Regret? Jealousy? Nostalgia?
"Do you love Sakura-san?" it was a simple question, and Hinata made it clear by her neutral tone that Sasuke didn't have to answer if he didn't want to.
Did he? Was it possible to love someone you had such a conflicting paradox of a history with?
"I don't know." He said honestly, and Hinata nodded. For a second, he almost envied her undying, unwavering love for Naruto. At least she knew where her feelings lied.
But then he regretted it. To lose someone like that, without ever knowing if he loved you back…
"Are you getting married any time soon?" He asked suddenly, curious. Clan heads normally had little choice in their spouse. His own parents had been an arranged marriage.
"You know, coming from another man that would sound awfully like a marriage proposal." Hinata said lightly, raising an eyebrow at him. He cursed himself, regretting the hasty and ill-phrased words. A slight flush crept over his pale features.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out sounding so… sketchy." He finished lamely. Since when did Hinata get so intimidating?
"It's fine. But I'm not. Of course, I'll have to eventually. Clan policies and heirs and all that. But I haven't found anyone yet." Like Naruto. They both finished Hinata's forcefully airy statement in their heads.
"Well, I think that man, whoever he is, is pretty lucky. You're a good person, Hinata." Sasuke sure was talkative today. The dull flush still hadn't gone away. Why did he drop the –san? And most importantly, why were these thoughts even crossing his brain?
"Thank you." She said quietly and graciously, and then stood up and stretched her arms. "Well, I have clan affairs to tend to. But it was nice talking to you, Sasuke; you should get out and about more. Drop by the Hyuuga compound some time for tea. Sayonara." She bowed deeply to the bemused Uchiha, and began to make her way down the stone path back to the village.
Sasuke stared after her back, brow furrowed in thought.
Absentmindedly, he raised a hand to where Uzumaki Naruto was carved on the stone.
Dobe. Guess I'll have to go to tea at the Hyuugas for you.
And Sakura and Gaara's wedding too. Pride be damned.
Smirking, he disappeared in a puff of smoke, almost looking forward to Suna and future visits to the elegant Hyuuga compound.
Almost.
A/N: Okay, so as recent very confusing Naruto chapters have revealed, a Chidori-Rasengan will definitely not kill a jinchuuriki? Especially the ten-tails? Also other things but gah no more spoilers. Also I don't know what happens to Obito and the Ten-Tails in this story after they kill Naruto. Forgive me.
Yes I am an avid Gaasaku shipper. Sue me.
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