Hi. Here is a fic I wrote some time ago but never went around to posting. Now I do :)
Title: Sacrifice
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen, angst, hints of supernatural. AU
Wordcount: 7850 or so
Summary: Sasuke's day has finally come. The day he was born for. The only day that counts. The last day of his life.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Ha.
A/N: I don't pretend to describe a cult or religion that ever existed. I just picked out elements here and there and put them together to make... something (which is why you should never read too much about pagan religion at all). Also, WTF LJ, your new interface is not practical.
Sacrifice
(Lesson learned #2: Thou shall not read too much about pagan religion and rituals)
The day has finally come.
His day.
He is standing abreast with other boys and girls, some of them his age, one or two older, most of them younger. Behind him, below him, he can feel the crowd that has gathered to witness the ceremony, to see their departure and pray.
He is wearing white, for the first and last time. It's so strange. He is used to black, discreet clothes, as dark as his hair and eyes, garments that make him look like a shadow. But now he's in the sun, now he's in white, his clothes paler than his skin, and he feels exposed. But he also feels pure. Immaculate. The virginity of his mind and body revealed for everyone to see after having remained hidden for so long.
In front of him, of them, one of the priests has begun to talk. It's not the main priest, the one the Vessel took as her first servant and as her husband, the one who barely gets the right or the will to leave the temple and the goddess he's meant to adore. But the boy knows the man is watching the ceremony since the Vessel can't, he's caught a glance of his golden head behind one of the the highest windows, discreet but here.
The other priest is talking now. He's talking about their god, he's talking about luck, he's talking about sacrifice and courage. Sasuke barely listens to him, his eyes staring straight ahead, patiently waiting, ready. He already knows all the man has to say, he has already understood and accepted it.
He was born for this. He was raised for this.
On his right, the girl with pink hair has begun to cry.
Sasuke ignores her soft sobs, doesn't glance at her like the boy on her right does, wondering if he should say something. Sasuke doesn't care. She must have known, just like he always has, that this day would come. If she can't accept it, she is only weak, barely worthy of the Divinity.
She doesn't understand.
It is the day, the only day that matters. The day he was born for, has lived for, hoped for. The day that gives a meaning to his very existence, the day that'll finally make his parents proud and happy to have had him. It's the first and last day of his life.
The priest has finished talking and lowers his eyes to them, smiling softly. Standing in the middle of the row of nine children, Sasuke is meant to be the first. He is proud of it. He'll be the first to go, the first to meet the Divinity, the one people will remember above all others. The priest reaches out a hand for him, and he doesn't even need to take a deep breath before he steps forward.
There is silence, he notices. Utter silence, like the whole crowd is holding its breath while he climbs up the steps.
He won't trip. He won't falter.
And then he's standing in front of the priest, who smiles at him, his face pale and long framed by black hair that are longer still. He presses his cold thumbs on the boy's forehead, then put his large hands on his shoulders and makes him turn around to face the crowd.
Sasuke doesn't look at them, doesn't let his eyes search for his parent's faces, for his brother's anxious, tormented gaze. He's looking straight ahead, feeling like he can almost see his destination. The man talks again, speaks of the Divinity, wishes he'll find the way to It and will be deemed worthy.
He takes a breath and closes his eyes, standing straight on the altar. He won't tremble, he won't shy away from this, he won't falter. He will die with his chin raised.
The blade is cold on the thin skin of his throat.
The last second.
One
The first second.
It's a glimpse of distant times, a fuzzy memory of old days, young days. He's lying and his body is tiny, clumsy, unable to move yet, unable to grip and crawl, so small and vulnerable and dependent.
There is a figure above him, a smiling face he'll learn to identify as Mother, cooing at him and softly whispering.
"My little boy," she says. "Second son, second chance. You'll make us happy, won't you? You'll bring us luck and fortune. You're such a good boy, such a beautiful boy. Oh, how our God will love you..."
And he understands.
People will say it's not possible, just like they say he can't have always known what he was meant to be.
But that's just the thing. He remembers. And since then, he's known.
Two
Inside the temple the air is cold and hushed, even more so than around the small altar they have at the back of the garden and where Mother brings him everyday to kneel and greet the Divinity.
It's his first time inside the temple, and it won't be the last. He can't help but raise his head with all the awe and curiosity of his age, his young eyes trying to take in everything. The high pillars disappearing into darkness before they reach the ceiling. The candelabra holding rows of candles, the only source of light. The richly embroidered cushions on the ground for the people to kneel and pray. The cups of wrought iron where incense sticks burn and smoke slowly, the smell tickling his nose. The offerings, food and precious jewels and pieces of cloth, small weapons and coins and paper covered with thanks and wishes. The golden ornaments on the walls and tables and altar, softly glinting in the faint light, playing with shadows as the flames dance.
The statue of the Divinity, in the centre, where most of the candles are gathered. Sasuke feels how his gaze is drawn to It, but how he wishes to turn away and not see at the same time. It's a strange figure, red and orange and yellow, like It came out of the fire itself, with two faces: one calm and benevolent, eyes soft and dark, ears directed towards the praying people, ready to listen and protect and bless; the other angry and snarling, eyes red and in slits, ears drawn back, ready to bite and punish and curse. It is sitting on a pedestal in front of him, Its whole body surrounded, crowned by the nine tails that contain Its power and reveal Its age.
The figure and its plinth are encircled by a golden barrier standing high above Sasuke's small frame, with golden bars that have been carefully carved and portray the separation between the human world and beyond. The spaces between the bars allow believers to see and hope, but not to reach out with anything else than prayers and light. It's up to the Divine One to decide who It will listen to and look upon with good will - and who It will turn away from.
The barrier runs around the altar and then stretches until it reaches the walls, forbidding the back of the temple to the layman. Only the high priest is allowed beyond, the man with whom Father is talking in soft tones, never looking back over his shoulder to make sure his son is still there. Sasuke is too young still to wonder if it's a proof of trust, of the fact that Father knows he won't do anything wrong in spite of his incredibly young age, or one of his indifference, of the fact that he doesn't care about him as long as he's still here and obedient when the day, his day will come.
The priest has golden hair and beautiful clothes that mesmerize the young child with how they change color every time he moves. But there are so many things to see and admire, he can't help but let his attention be drawn elsewhere, to the paintings on the walls, shrouded in darkness, to the glint of water drops as they fall one by one into the font, the movements of his own shadow on the stones under his feet, even though he himself is entirely still.
When he looks back up towards the Divinity, he catches sight of someone standing behind the barrier, hidden in the statue's shadow and behind the thick bars, looking at him. It's a boy around his age, small and young and curious, with a mop of bright blond hair that even the darkest night wouldn't be able to put out. His eyes are light, reflecting the glow of the torches like a mirror, yellow and red.
Sasuke wonders how they would look like in the sun, under the sky, but the boy is behind the barrier, like it's the human side that is forbidden to him.
It looks like he's in prison.
And then he disappears when Father calls Sasuke, like he's afraid, like he was never supposed to be here and seen.
Sasuke doggedly follows the man outside, but doesn't forget.
Three
Itachi is his older brother. He is tall and strong and nice. He knows everything, he is good at everything, and yet he always has time and a smile for him.
He is the best thing in Sasuke's universe.
The little boy yawns over the ceremonial paper flowers Itachi is teaching him to do with so so much patience, like he doesn't notice just how clumsy Sasuke's hands are. He smiles and even compliments him, whereas Sasuke knows Itachi's flowers are far more beautiful.
"Itachi, it's time for his nap," Mother says. She is standing at the room's entrance, arms crossed, her smile never quite reaching her eyes.
Itachi looks at him. "Are you tired, little brother?" he asks, letting him choose.
Sasuke rubs at his eye and doesn't know what to answer. He is tired, but he likes being with Itachi, he likes learning how to do origami for the next feast and he knows Itachi likes to teach him. But his brother understands everything, as he always does, reading it in his eyes and gestures. He smiles and gets up.
"Come on. I'll tell you a story."
Sasuke tries not to smile too largely as he gets on his feet and raises his arms towards Itachi who lifts him up and settles him on his high, high bed. Sasuke doesn't sleep on futons, on the ground like everyone else, he has a bed standing on legs so that he stays away from the ground, untouched, like he's meant to.
"You shouldn't do all this, Itachi," Mother says, her tone laden with light reproach, as Itachi sits down on the bed's edge and tucks Sasuke in. "He doesn't need it. And it'll only be more difficult for you when he..."
"Mother,", Itachi softly interrupts, not even turning in her direction. "You know I hate it when you talk like one of us is not even in the room."
Sasuke sees Mother roll her eyes slightly and reply, her irritation slipping into her voice. "Itachi, it's not like he can understand..."
"He can," Itachi retorts at once, still very calmly. "He does." He ignores Mother and smiles at Sasuke. "Don't you, little brother? And you're not afraid of demons, are you?"
Sasuke vigorously shakes his head. He was never afraid. He is blessed, they could do nothing against him. That, and...
"Good," Itachi approves. "Because I'll always be here to keep them away."
"Ah, Itachi, here you are." Sasuke recognizes Father's voice and glances at the doorway where he is now standing beside Mother. "I've been looking for you. I should've known I would find you here." His expression is stern, disapproving.
"That's what I've been trying to tell him," Mother says. "But he won't leave the room. Do something, Fugaku."
Father briefly glances at Sasuke, eyes narrowed, and the little boy is tempted to hide under his sheets. He should be napping already, doing what is expected of him, instead of waiting for Itachi to tell him a story and help him find the way to good dreams.
But Itachi wants to tell him the story. And he never knows how to react when Father and Mother want something else than what Itachi wants.
"Come with me now, Itachi," Father says. "There are things we have to discuss. Important things."
Itachi doesn't look at him and takes one of Sasuke's little hands in his, smoothing out the sheet the little boy was nervously gripping. "I don't care," he replies.
Father frowns. "Your ninth birthday is coming up. There will be a fest. We must decide who'll be invited and how the clan..."
"I said I don't care," Itachi repeats, more slowly, more loudly, more harshly. He still isn't looking at their parents, but his shoulders are tense.
"Itachi," Mother tries to say, tries to use her soft, mellowing voice.
Itachi shakes his head and reaches out a hand to brush back a strand of hair that was tickling Sasuke's forehead. "He won't ever have a ninth birthday, will he?" he murmurs, and even if Sasuke can't avert his eyes from the sad, loving ones of his older brother, he feels their parents freeze for a second.
They don't answer.
Finally, Itachi sighs. "Wait for me in your office, Father," he says. "I'm just telling a story. It won't take long."
Father nods and walks away. Mother stays a little bit longer, thoughtfully gazing at the pair of them, her expression unreadable, before she turns away too. Itachi sighs once more but then his smile is back, his whole attention is on his little brother like nothing else exists, and he begins to talk.
Sasuke listens to him, lets himself be swept away by the tale of demons and gods and heroes and magic, lets himself forget for a while, even if he knows it won't be forever.
Four
Kakashi Hatake is a strange figure. Tall and lanky, with hair that are already grey even if he's far younger than Father, with an eye missing from a battle he fought when he was young. But what's stranger still is the way people look at him with mistrust, staring at his face hidden behind a dark mask, it's the way they step away or around to avoid him even though he is a warrior and as such should be revered, respected.
His appearance - the mask - is a mystery.
Some say his face is horribly mangled after a battle far worse than the one that took his eye away. Some say the Kitsune Child tricked him and painted his lips red, forbidding him from ever getting rid of the color and compelling him to try and hide it for fear of ridicule. Some say it's a punishment, because even if he believes like everyone else does, he doesn't believe right, doesn't hesitate before he frowns and openly disapproves of a ritual or of the way some ceremonies are led. Those people also say that the high priest has been too lenient with him, only condemning him to hide his face whereas he should be banned or worse.
Still, he's a powerful fighter and an excellent teacher, so much that he has the honor of being the one to guide the Uchiha's first son as he learns and hones his skills. Sitting on the planks of the covered way running around the garden that stands in the middle of the main house, Sasuke looks at the man and at his brother while they fight and takes care of never letting his naked feet touch the ground.
He loves watching Itachi while he fights. He's incredibly focused, serious, fierce even, which makes him look older than Sasuke is used to. He's so different from the soft, smiling older brother he can be. But Sasuke is not afraid. He understands it's only another facet of his character, the warrior and the heir, and he feels privileged, somehow, to have a side of him all to himself.
Itachi isn't an older brother to anyone else.
And when he fights and kicks and dodges, it's like he's dancing, and Sasuke feels his heart beat faster, feels the admiration prickle his limbs, wonders how it feels like, when Itachi jumps so high, wonders if it feels, for a moment, like he's flying.
He doesn't envy him - why would he envy someone, his brother, for something he's never been meant to acquire? - but he thinks that the only moves he'll ever learn are ones of ritual, slow dancing, and he feels very small.
They are training with weapons today, kunais and shurikens flying in all directions, and Sasuke knows he shouldn't watch since it's dangerous, but his eyes are glued to the scene, he tenses every single time a blade comes close from cutting his brother's cheek or arm, he smiles every single time Itachi effortlessly dodges and counter-attacks. Another flip, another series of shurikens parried with only one hand, another throw of kunais - and then suddenly one of them is flying right in Sasuke's direction.
He barely hears Itachi's cry of alarm and outrage and blinks. But his arm reacts even before he can think: he catches the weapon by its handle, stopping it five inches from his face. The sharp tip glints in the morning sun. His eyes meet the single one of Kakashi when he lowers it, calm and knowing, like he hadn't doubted for a second that Sasuke would intercept the weapon.
The boy looks down at it. He isn't supposed to hold weapons - especially not dirty ones that have already been used and won't ever deserve to be purified and dedicated to the Divinity - but he does now, and it's so strange. The metal is cold and heavy in his palm, and it's like he can feel the death it can bring in the blink of an eye.
He hastily holds it out to Kakashi when the man steps closer. But the teacher doesn't take it at once, and Sasuke can feel his gaze on him even if he won't look up.
"You would be a good pupil," Kakashi mutters when he finally seizes the weapon. Surprised, Sasuke raises his head, sees his expression full of regret before he shakes his head. "What a waste."
The man exchanges a long look with Itachi who is now standing protectively beside Sasuke, then announces the training session is over for the day and leaves.
Itachi spends the afternoon with Sasuke. The boy wonders what all this was about, but doesn't dare to ask.
Five
Autumn should be the season devoted to the Divinity.
It looks like It breathed Its fire onto the trees and into the leaves, like It lay Itself on the plains and mountains and that every single plant is part of Its fiery fur. Walking through the woods, Sasuke can feel Its presence all around him, in the air he breathes, full of the scent of dry leaves and earth, in the rustle of the golden carpet under his carefully covered feet, in the display of colors all around him, made all the more blinding by the bright light of these long equinoctial evenings that seem to last forever.
And suddenly, bathed in a golden ray piercing through the trees, stands a boy crowned with hair that is more golden still. For a second, Sasuke stops walking, stops thinking, forgets to breathe and forgets who he is. For a second, he thinks the Divinity Itself is standing there, in front of him.
But then he blinks and a cloud has occulted the sun, and it's nothing more than a boy, still standing at the same place, looking down at the ground, entirely still. Curious about what he's staring at, Sasuke hesitates then walks in his direction.
It's a bird, he notices. A black bird lying on the ground, a crow with one of its wings crooked, its beak slightly open. It's unmoving and when Sasuke is close enough, he can see tiny creatures crawling, swarming on it, in it, ants and beetles and worms...
"It's dead," the boy says.
The next second, he is kneeling on the ground, pushing away the dry, yellow leaves to clear a small patch of naked, dark earth. And he begins to dig.
Sasuke remains standing beside him, looking down at the bird, the word still ringing in his ears.
Dead.
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes never leaving the decaying crow, the insects feasting on its dead flesh. He smells it, now, a strange, sickly sweet smell that will stick to his nose and never be forgotten.
The bird is dead.
So that's what it is. Death. It's being here but not here, it's being nothing but an empty shell that can't prevent others to take pieces of you away, it's lying still while the other are still moving, moving on and away and living, it's not being able to fight anything anymore.
He'll be like that, one day. His body will be like that, when his mind leaves it. One day.
Soon.
He knows he's not supposed to, but he kneels down on the ground beside the boy, and helps him dig.
"What did you do to your hands?" Mother asks, panicked, when he comes back home, when the sun and the boy have both disappeared beyond the horizon.
He obediently raises his hands and lets her wash them with a damp cloth, ordering him never to do this again. She is not worried about him, he knows, not really. It's just that he must remain pure and clean. The earth is dirt, and he should only use it as something to walk upon. He should never bend down and embrace it like the gift it is.
But he did, and the words of the boy are still whirling in his head.
"May you find the way home, the way to your next life, wherever it is. Fly, and be in peace."
They were for the bird, they were too old and wise for the mouth that said them, but Sasuke listened to them and hopes someone will wish for him, hopes he will find his way, hopes he will fly, when the time comes.
Soon.
Six
There is a bird embroidered on the back of Mother's kimono. Dark red on black, and when she walks and slightly moves her arms, it looks like the bird is flying.
Sasuke is walking behind her and Father, Itachi at his side. They are walking back from the Nakano shrine, the small altar the Uchiha clan built on the mountainside centuries ago and where they go for familial ceremonies.
This time, they brought Sasuke and bathed him there, in the back room where there is no light and no warmth, they bathed him with cold water perfumed with jasmine and lilies, all along softly singing. He understands the meaning of all this. He must be pure and remain pure for the Divinity to look well upon him, to grace his family with good will and fortune. So he didn't say anything, even if the water was so freezing it almost hurt, even if he sometimes wonders how this will help.
As they walk, they pass a blond boy going into the other direction. His cheeks are whiskered, his eyes are narrowed into two satisfied slits so that Sasuke can't glimpse his eye color, but his blond hair...
He's wearing an orange tunic, red shorts reaching mid-calf, and a pair of straw sandals. He's eating some onigiri that he's clumsily holding as he walks.
"Look where you're going, little brother," Itachi says, putting his hand on his head when Sasuke begins to turn it to keep on looking at the strange boy. Itachi acts like he doesn't even notices him, like he's not meant to be noticed. So Sasuke obeys, but can't help but glance back after a little while.
Only there is nothing on the road behind him.
When he turns his head back forward, there is a man lying against a tree on the side of the road. His eyes are closed and his backpack looks like it has been too carelessly discarded.
He looks like a traveler. He shouldn't be sleeping here, so imprudently.
Sasuke and his family stop, and Itachi puts a reassuring, protective arm around his shoulders while Mother leans over the man, wondering if she should shake him. Before she can decide, the man abruptly opens his eyes and sits up, making everybody start and Father call out Mother's name. Then the man blinks and takes in his surroundings: the family standing in front of him, all with dark hair and eyes; the man holding his wife's arm and severely looking down on him, the two boys with the tallest one standing slightly in front of the youngest.
Itachi has stepped in front of him like he didn't even have to think about it.
"Good day, sir," Mother pleasantly says. You can hear the smile in her voice.
"Er, morning, day," the man replies, looking a little lost. "M'lady."
"Are you alright, sir?" she asks, her tone slightly amused. "You were passed out on the edge of the road."
The man now looks bewildered. "Passed out?" But then he remembers he was lying down not a second before. "Huh. I wonder what happened?"
"Can you remember anything?" Mother speaks again.
The man frowns slightly, scratches his jaw then his hair. "I... I was walking. Trying to reach the next village before lunch," he says slowly. "Then this... this brat popped out of nowhere and demanded I give him my lunch. Annoying little shi... thing."
"And then?" Mother presses on.
"And then there was..." The man abruptly stops and surprisingly, his cheeks take on a light pink color. He doesn't look like he believes what came up in his mind, but doesn't look like he dislikes it either.
"What was it?"
The man sheepishly glances at Mother, but her nice expression and regal air has always made it impossible for people not to answer her. So he does, even if he remains strangely subdued: "Then appeared one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And... Beg your pardon, my lady, but she was very... scantily clad."
Mother doesn't feel insulted or shocked. Instead she laughs, a clear sound ringing like chiming bells and birds. "Don't worry, dear sir," she says. "I only see you've been the victim of the Kitsune Child."
The man's eyes widen. "Kitsune...?" he repeats.
"Haven't you heard of it?" Mother replies, tilting her head to the side. "The Divinity blessed us with his presence. You drew his good will upon yourself."
"Did I?" he asks, finally standing up and picking up his pack. At once he seems to notice that something is missing, looks through several pockets, comes up empty. "From what I can see, I only lost my lunch."
"Then we're inviting you to share ours," Mother offers at once, the idea coming naturally to her since she's been raised that way, a generous, condescending noble's daughter.
The man has no choice but to bow in front of her. "Your ladyship is too good."
And then he follows them. Father asks him what he does for a living. He says he is a traveling scribe, a monk, a hermit.
After a while, he notices the curious glances Sasuke keeps throwing at him from his brother's side, smiles in his direction.
"You've got strange marks on your face," Sasuke says.
"Huh?" the man says, like he doesn't know it. He raises his hand to his cheeks and when he draws it back, his fingers are covered in red, red like the paint he smudged on his jaw and under his eyes. "Wha-?"
Mother laughs again, and Father smirks.
"Definitely the Kitsune Child."
Seven
Night has come and with it the perfect circle of white light that turns the sky dark blue and makes the stars shine all the brighter. Leaning against a pillar, Sasuke stares into the inner garden where each leaf looks like it has been painted with a faint, pale glow, where the pond is dark and glinting all at once, a smooth mirror for the nocturnal tapestry to reflect upon. It's late, and he's tired, but he only shakes his head to clear his thoughts.
You never sleep when the moon is full.
He wanders through the house, not allowed to go outside like Mother did with her friends, each one of them clad in beautiful kimonos and ready to go to the festivities. He doesn't know where Itachi is this time, if he's been swept away by the other Uchiha boys for their own rituals, or if he's slipped away once more and waits for things to settle down before he joins him. Father...
Father is in his study, Sasuke notes, catching the yellowish glow of a lamp filtering through the door of the room he is not allowed to enter. The window looking onto the garden is slightly open, and in the silence of the vast, empty house that only faint echoes reach, Sasuke can hear an unfamiliar voice talking.
"... can you condone this?" it asks. "Your own son..."
"Exactly," Father calmly replies. "My own son. I only need one heir." He sighs. "We never lied to him. He knows what awaits him, why, and when. He knows he is born for this. We feed him and dress him and teach him, it's only natural for him to repay us the only way he can. He has accepted it. As you should."
"And since when do children owe so much to their parents?" the other man bites out. There is a brief silence, then he speaks again, barely a whisper: "Sometimes I wonder if all this is piety or madness."
"You don't understand," Father declares.
"I do. Believe me, I do." A pause, and when the man goes on, his voice is fierce and determined. "And I will stop this."
"Minato," Father replies, and his voice is the same as when Itachi does something in public he doesn't approve of, like staying behind with Sasuke when, as an heir, he should be standing up front, among the peers he'll lead one day. "You might be the high priest but this is blasphemy."
"It only sounds like it, believe me," the man retorts. "She wouldn't want this."
Father's answer is almost a chuckle: "And what makes you think that?"
"I know it."
"Then why doesn't she wake up to say so? Have you thought she might be waiting exactly for this? After eight years..."
"She may not," the man protests, but Sasuke can hear how Father's words have shaken him and his conviction.
"Well, there is only one way to prove it, isn't there?"
This sentence is followed by silence, and Sasuke takes it as his cue to leave. He shouldn't have been listening in the first place, but he never knows what to do during these nights, these times when everyone seems to forget his existence but expect him to be exactly where they want him to be when they remember and turn around.
It's only later, while he's sitting at the corner of the balcony of the first floor, legs drawn against his chest, and looking down at the path leading to the entrance of the Uchiha compound, waiting for people to come back, that he sees the man his father was talking to leave the house. He's tall, his hair shining pale in the moonlight, his face paler when he looks up at the cold stars. It's too dark and too far away for Sasuke to make out his expression, but it's obvious the man feels... sad.
"You'll have my support."
Sasuke almost starts when he hears his brother's voice. Leaning against the bars of the balcony's railing, he sees Itachi's shadow break away from the one of a tree and walk towards the man.
"One day, I'll be the head of this clan," he says, and for the first time Sasuke notices how small he still is compared to other adults, but how proud and firm he stands in spite of his youth, sure of what he's saying. "And then, I'll help you stop this."
The man looks at him and smiles, even if it doesn't wipe his melancholy away. Not quite.
"I wish you hadn't gotten your convictions that way," he murmurs.
"I would've done it anyway," Itachi protests without hesitation.
The man's smile brightens a bit, and he put a hand on Itachi's shoulder. "Don't lose hope yet," he says. "There is still time. I'll find something. I'll find a way."
Itachi looks into his eyes for a long time, then nods, accepts to offer him his trust, his hopes. The man nods back, then turns away and leaves.
Itachi looks at his retreating back until he disappears. Sasuke looks at his brother, and wonders why.
Eight
Sasuke has just finished his prayer - his last evening prayer - when he's broken out of his thoughts by the sound of the door opening. He opens his eyes and turns his head, only to see Itachi silently slipping into the room. Their eyes meet and Itachi puts a finger in front of his lips while the door closes behind him.
Their cousin Shisui is watching over it, making sure nothing, no one disturbs Sasuke during this night, his last night. He will be punished if anyone finds out he let Itachi enter. But Itachi's eyes tell him he knows this, that Shisui knows this and still made sure he could stay at his little brother's side until the end.
Their eyes don't leave each other while Itachi comes closer to Sasuke who is sitting on his bed, ready to lie down and sleep through these last hours. It almost hurts to see the expression in his brother's eyes, to see how he tries to remain strong whereas the mere idea of tomorrow simply breaks him.
Itachi sits down beside him on the bed, puts a hand on his head and guides it against his chest, an embrace that isn't one, not quite, because hugging his little brother would mean everything is really happening, it would mean it is the end.
"I should take you with me and flee," Itachi murmurs.
Sasuke almost freezes for a second, then whispers back: "Where to?"
Because there is no life for him outside from this, from what he was born for.
"Somewhere, anywhere," Itachi answers. He pauses, and Sasuke feels him bend his head, tighten his grip. He knows his eyes are squeezed shut not to let escape anything. "Sometimes, I wish you hadn't accepted this since the first day, so easily," he murmurs, his voice harsh and trembling.
Sasuke doesn't answer, doesn't move. He doesn't know why Itachi acts this way, why he hasn't accepted all this yet, why he doesn't understand. They've both known since Sasuke's birth it would come to this, this day, this gift, this end without which Sasuke is nothing.
"Come on, let's get you to bed," Itachi say once he's pulled himself together, but he won't meet Sasuke's eye anymore.
He lies down and Itachi lies down beside him, throwing the sheets over them both. It shouldn't be like this, Sasuke should be alone for his last night, getting himself ready for the Divinity, thinking about It and already giving himself, his thoughts, his mind to It. He should, but it's Itachi, and Sasuke doesn't want to believe that the Nine-Tails would begrudge him these last hours, the love he had for his older brother.
Itachi wraps him in his arms and he closes his eyes. His brother's breathing is slightly irregular, slightly hitched, but it lulls him to sleep all the same.
When he wakes up, Itachi is still here, still pressing him against his chest. His lips are a fine, flat line, and his eyes are staring straight forward, looking like they never closed, never blinked.
He's trembling. Sasuke isn't.
The day has finally come.
His day.
His eyes are closed, his breathing calm. The metal is cold against his throat.
He can almost see the Divinity, still far away, still out of reach, but turning Its attention toward him, ready to welcome him, to come closer.
He is ready. Ready to fly.
And then suddenly, there is something right in front of him, something so lively and powerful and brimming with too much emotions, something he feels so strongly his senses are overwhelmed and he opens his eyes out of reflex. Gold and bright blue - it's all he sees for a second. And then...
"BOO!" the boy yells, flailing his arms.
Sasuke hears the priest gasp behind him, surprised or afraid, and the knife he was holding at his throat falls to the ground with a clatter. Sasuke looks down at it, not understanding. He breathes in.
He was never meant to take this breath.
And then he doesn't have the time to think, to react, because the boy grabs his wrist and sets off running, running, right into the temple. Sasuke has no choice but to follow, momentarily blinded by the sudden darkness, stunned by the turn of events, deafened by the cries inside his head that this is wrong, wrong, wrong. He dimly hears the priest shout for them to stop, angry then horrified. Sasuke glances back at him, at the entrance that is nothing but a rectangle of white light, at the tall pillars, at the back of the Divinity's statue, at the golden barrier.
The barrier. He's on the other side of it.
But the boy is still running, leading him through a door, up a stair, down a corridor. He moves like he knows the place like the back of his hand, then comes to an abrupt halt when they reach the corner, making Sasuke bump into his back.
There is a blond man in front of them, out of breath and eyebrows drawn together, but it looks more like worry than anger.
"Naruto..." the man begins, then stops, his lips soundlessly moving, at a loss of what to say. He looks at them both, his eyes jumping from the blond boy to Sasuke, his expression wavering between bewilderment, anger, fear, sadness, amusement, exasperation, regret, relief. Finally, he only sighs and brokenly whispers: "Thank you."
He puts a hand on the boy's head and ruffles his hair. The boy only grins wider and asks:
"Can we have the key, dad?"
The man raises an interrogative eyebrow at him but then his lips curve into a crooked smile as he picks a small golden key among the numerous ones jingling at his side. He barely has the time to hold it out before the boy snatches it with a bright "Thanks!" and sets off running again, dragging Sasuke behind him. When he glances back, the man is standing at the same place, eyes closed, palms pressed against each other, the tips of his fingers grazing his forehead as he prays.
He prays for forgiveness.
Then they take another turn, and Sasuke has to be careful because the boy never stops, never warns him before he tugs him in another direction. There are so many rooms, so many doors, Sasuke wonders what they're here for, and then there is a door the small golden key opens and stairs. Up and up and up they go, until they burst through another door, onto a balcony, in the open, and finally, finally stop.
Sasuke feels like he's going to collapse. He's never run that much in his whole life.
Then he realizes where they are as the boy grips the black and golden railing to bend over it and look down. He's led them up to the top floor of the temple, right under the roof, where the high priest sits and observes ceremonies that don't demand his active participation, only his spiritual presence. Where the Vessel would sit too, if she hadn't turned away from them.
He can see the whole temple square, the platform where the other children are still standing, nervously glancing around, the stone steps, the altar where he himself was standing only minutes before, where his body should be lying, clad in white stained with bright red. And he can see the crowd, far larger than he'd ever thought, lost and murmuring and waiting. He can see Itachi arguing with Father, the man holding him back while he tries to step down the space reserved for the Uchiha clan and, probably, run toward the temple.
No one knows what to do. The ceremony is crashed. They can't proceed, they can't go on since the first sacrifice, the most important one, has been taken away right in front of their eyes; and not just by anyone. By the Child himself.
Then someone thinks of looking up and catches sight of them, points towards them with a cry. The next second, Sasuke can feel all their eyes and attention turn to them, to him, countless and huge and suffocating.
But it looks like that's exactly what the boy was waiting for. He's still grinning, hoists himself up and bellows: "He's mine!"
It sounds like a taunt, really, and the crowd breaks down into exclamations and cries and murmurs, a deafening rumble interspersed with shouts and unanswered questions. Sasuke feels himself faltering and stumbles back, deafened and faint and this shouldn't be happening. The boy notices it and steps back from the railing, looking worriedly at him.
"I..." Sasuke tries to say, wavers, unable to fix his eyes on anything. "I should be dead."
"No, you don't," the boy replies, calm and certain, so much that Sasuke can't help but look up at him. "You were offered to the Nine-Tails. And I accepted you."
He smiles softly. Sasuke stares at him and remembers everything that has ever been said about this boy. About how he's real but not, about how he can be here and not here at the same time, about how he can multiply his figure and disappear in the blink of an eye, about how he can transform into a fox or a beautiful woman, about how he can trick anyone, anyhow, about how you never know if it's a blessing or a curse.
About how he's been sent to them by the Divinity while Its Vessel sleeps, a sign that It's discontent but still hasn't completely given up on them.
The sacrifice was meant to bring back the good will of the Nine-Tails. Nine children, after nine years, and Sasuke was never meant to live for anything after that, he doesn't know how to live, he doesn't know how to be.
"Don't worry," the boy says like he understands. "I'll guide you."
He reaches out a hand. Sasuke remembers an autumnal afternoon, when he saw him in the golden woods and believed, for a moment...
But before he has the time to move, to grip the offered hand like a lifeline, the blond man they saw earlier, the high priest, bursts through the door, eyes wide and out of breath. For a second he stays here, blinking and looking like he's going to collapse, and then:
"She woke up," he whispers. Suddenly, his face splits into a large smile, his eyes shine and he beams with happiness as he sweeps the boy off his feet, up into his arms and twirls him around. "She woke up, son. She woke up!"
He almost trips on himself, puts a hand on the railing to regain his balance, turns towards the temple square and shouts down for the whole crowd to hear: "Lucky day! Feast and celebration! The Divinity forgives us, the Vessel woke up! May those children be blessed, and live!"
There is a stunned silence, then the crowd bursts into cheers as the man turns away, tightening his arms around the boy who is hugging him back just as fiercely, grinning wide and eyes shining with tears. "She woke up, she woke up," he repeats, eyes squeezed shut and face pressed into the boy's golden hair. "My wife, my love," he swallows then chokes: "My life."
The boy's only answer is a sob of happiness as the man sighs: "Oh, thank you. Thank you."
Sasuke drinks in the sight of them, hears the joy of the crowd singing and praying. This is it. This is what he was born for, what he's lived for, what he was meant to be sacrificed for. To bring this to their village, to his family.
He just never thought he would still be there to witness it and he doesn't know what he did to be blessed enough to get this right.
He meets the boy's gaze, bright blue, and the boy reaches out his hand once more as the high priest, his father, lets him down and rubs at his eyes with a delighted laugh. This time, Sasuke doesn't hesitate before he takes it.
It'll be minutes before he gets to meet the Vessel herself, an intimidating woman sitting up in a huge bed, her long, incredibly long and bright red hair spread all around her, reminding Sasuke of the Divinity she incarnates. She will look strangely at them, blink and smile foxily when the boy will announce Sasuke will be his high priest when he grows up and she gets free.
It'll be hours before they step back out of the temple, before Itachi reaches him and hugs him, pressing him and the blond boy against his chest and repeating a litany of "thank you, thank you, thank you...". Mother and Father will stand behind him, not knowing what to do, how to react, estranged, because they never knew how to treat him like a son.
It'll be days before things begin to settle, with rooms being prepared inside the temple for the children who will be fed and clad and trained to become priests and spend their life serving the Divinity. They can't ever go back to a normal life, but they smile anyway and enter into it with gratefulness and vigor and faith.
It'll be months before the elation of the people begins to ease down and becomes a diffuse lightness in their everyday life. They'll smile brighter and work harder and go farther, they'll live in peace.
It'll be years before Sasuke gets used to this, to a whole life spread out in front of him, a whole life to grow up and see the dance of seasons, a whole life he never prepared himself for. But all along, the boy will be at his side, holding his hand, showing him the way and never, ever letting go. So he's not afraid. What he doesn't know, he'll learn.
Because he has time.
The day, his day, has come and gone.
His life has just begun.
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