A/N: I know this chapter is a lot later than the norm, but I've just been catching up on a lot of work recently. I also wasn't completely satisfied with this chapter at first, and so it was going through an editing process. This chapter's also quite long-a lot happens here! I hope you enjoy, and as always, please leave a review if you do. It makes me happy beyond imagination :) Again, thank you to everyone for all your support!


Part 6: The Moon

"I suspect the rest of the team was taken care of?" Danzo raises an eyebrow as he etches patterns into his desk with his dagger. His eyes glow the color of blood before he roars and shakes his head. His pupils are dark, eyes bloodshot, when he looks up again. He can never hold that for long.

"Burned in Amaterasu." Sasuke takes in his shaking frame, the thin shoulders that rise and fall with each dragged breath. He's wondered many times how this man rose among the Uchiha ranks. Danzo was the war orphan of a branch family, after all. Now he sits next to Madara during their war meetings.

"I see. With the Senju heir in my hands, then, I shall proceed with negotiations," Danzo growls. He eyes Sasuke's stance and squints. "Kneel before your commander, boy."

Sasuke narrows his eyes, then turns and leaves without clearance. Danzo flings something at him for his disrespect, and misses.

In his tent, Sasuke sits at his desk with his fingers grasping an orange handkerchief. He tries to light it with Amaterasu again, but cannot. To him, the cloth had become Naruto, and Naruto will not burn.

He hates when Danzo resides over the military camp, but he hates it even more when Danzo is at the Uchiha compound. Recently, the man has been spending more time on the front lines while Madara has been hanging back around the compound. He knows something is going on between the two men, but can't place his finger on exactly what it is. There's been a few nights where he's spotted odd shadows lurking around the graves of his dead kin. Some nights, he swears he'd heard Danzo speaking to these shadows. Then there would be loud shuffling. Why are they even being buried, when his clan had always burned the bodies? After all, Izanagi had shown him the burning of the bodies of his ancestors, his parents—he remembers clearly, the red of the flames, the ashes placed into boxes placed into the ground—

The orange handkerchief twists with his meandering thoughts. He'd have to speak to Kakashi about this.

The pounding behind his eyes is overwhelming, and he places his head in his hands. He had spent the past few years trying to hate Naruto, but in the end, he couldn't even kill him. He hated him—hated, hated, hated. But seeing him had reopened the old memories that he had worked so hard to seal away. He remembers the blazing blue eyes, and the truth in them on the battlefield. Naruto hadn't been selfish—he had been trying to find balance between family and himself. He can feel himself being torn between his newfound family, and Naruto. Frustrated, he slams a fist straight through his desk. The splinters make their way into his skin. He can't even feel it.

I have a family now. I belong—but why does it hurt? Naruto, why does it hurt?


The Akatsuki—dawn, rising sun. Promises. Hashirama isn't sure what exactly he had expected when Tobirama approached him with his crumpled letter a few nights ago, but it was more than the straggly strangers currently sitting in front of him. He does like the black cloaks—and the red clouds are a nice touch.

"—Danzo is gaining power quickly," the sunset-haired one—Yahiko—is saying. Hashirama snaps back at the name, having zoned out during the "bridge to peace" chatter. "We have enough reason to believe he plans to eliminate Madara and assert his hold over the clan. With Naruto as his prisoner, he now holds the leverage in the war."

"There's Sasuke as well," a voice speaks up from the end of the table. He narrows his eyes. He hadn't noticed the man before, but he looks oddly familiar. "Danzo has both the clan's heirs in his hands, and both of them are threats to his power."

"But why aren't the Uchiha going after Danzo?" Tsunade shakes her head roughly. "We're Senju for fuck's sake, and it seems we're losing more sleep over Uchiha business than they are."

"He's cunning. Manipulative. The Uchiha like that," says Nagato. His eyes spin when he speaks. "Madara saw his potential and used it, but it's always been the other way around. Not to mention the Uchiha are proud—they're not going to overthrow a strong head general unless there's solid evidence of treason."

Hashirama shakes his head into the pause. When he speaks again, his eyes hold an unusual gleam of familiarity. "Madara is no idiot—we'll have to trust he knows what he's doing."

"Eliminating Danzo should be our biggest priority. He's more dangerous than Madara at this point," says Yahiko. "Then perhaps compromises between the Senju and the Uchiha can be made to end the war. After all, it's been going on for so long that its hard to exact what it is you all want from one another now."

The eyes of every Senju in the room harden for a moment. The statement was one that lingered in the minds of everyone, but no one ever dared speak it aloud. It is frightening to realize that they were fighting for nothing at all other than revenge. The man that had looked familiar to Hashirama speaks up, diffusing the tension. "In the meantime, I will send note to Hatake and have him find a time for me to speak with Sasuke. He is instrumental, and I am sure he can help with Naruto."

"Can we trust him?" Tobirama asks. He knows there aren't many other options.

"Yes," the man says. He looks Hashirama in the eye and the familiarity speaks for itself. "He is my little brother."


Naruto spends the first two days of his imprisonment blindfolded, locked behind wooden posts and secured to a wooden stake with his hands behind him, shackled in thick iron chains. He keeps his pebble folded in the palm of his hand. The wetness of the ground has long seeped into his skin, and there is so much mud he can no longer tell the difference between skin and dirt. He can hear that four Uchiha guard him at all moments of the day, one at each corner of his makeshift prison. The guards enter his enclosure to shove bread and water down his throat twice a day, but leave him in his position otherwise. He is forced to relieve himself in his pants. His neck is sore from sleeping in his position, and his shoulders ache from his confined arms. His hair is brown from the dirt, and his stink lingers around him in a fog.

A few times, he contemplates whether he had chosen Sasuke over Senju—briefly, if only for that moment. Each time he tells himself he had chosen the safety of his team. He ignores his act of holding a dagger to Neji's throat.

On the third day, the blindfold is roughly torn off his face and he finds himself blinking into an old, scarred face. He quickly takes in his surroundings, finding that he is in a wooden enclosure, inside a white tent.

"Ah, Uzumaki Naruto of Senju," the man says. "It's nice to finally meet you. Though I must admit that I had been expecting more from the Sun of Senju than this… mess."

Naruto notes the cropped hair, the walking stick, and re-evaluates the curved scars on the man's face. The descriptions that he's heard all his life match the man towering over his seated position. This must be Danzo.

Naruto had always imagined the brilliant roars of revenge when meeting Danzo. In his mind—in his dreams, he had driven his katana through Danzo's chest so many times that he's lost count. Now he sits, looking at the man almost lazily. It takes effort to stare at such an unsightly human being.

At the lack of a response, Danzo squats down so that he is eye-level with Naruto. He orders the guards out, and sniffs, wrinkling his face at the stench. "The mission report tells me that three of your men have burned in Amaterasu. You are now the sole card I have to win this war. For that, I thought I might help you a bit. Tell me, how much did you love your father?"

Naruto watches him blankly.

Danzo's face breaks into a grin. "Ah, but he's gone, child. I outsmarted him." Then he backhands Naruto so hard that he splits his lip. Blood fills his mouth. Naruto spits it into his face, momentarily blinding the man before kicking him hard in the knee.

"Fuck you."

Danzo falls into the mud, but calmly wipes his face and throws his head back in a unsettling laugh. "Remember now, you are the bargaining chip. Because of you, I have the upper hand in the war."

When Danzo leaves the enclosure, Naruto sees the way his shoulders settle from their tense positions. The man is afraid of him. Makes sense. He had let him suffer for a few days before coming in to see him. Naruto refuses to be humiliated. He rolls the back of his head against the stake as the guards return.

"Switch his binds," Danzo orders.

Four men are needed to hold him down as two more chain his ankles together. The chain is secured to the wooden stake. They remove the chains from around his hands and try to shove him into a suit that keeps his arms wrapped around his torso. He manages to punch two of the men in their stomachs in the process, but is restrained as more come in to aid the others. After spending days with his arms bound behind him, his shoulders scream from all the sudden movement. The two men he had punched shove him to the ground and kick him until he coughs up blood. The suit comes on without much resistance after that. His torso is wrapped in leather straps for security. He grits his teeth and swallows blood. His blindfold comes back on. Someone ties a cloth around his mouth to gag him. He hears the men leave and the gate to his enclosure being locked. Aside from the murmurs of the camp, he is shrouded in darkness, incapable of movement. Kurama tells him stories of life before the war to ward off his overwhelming panic. He turns his pebble over and over again in his fingers. He begins to dream to hide his reality.

On the tenth night of his imprisonment, Naruto wakes to muffled murmuring outside his tent. Someone enters the tent and orders the guards to leave. They do, and after a few more moments of murmuring, he hears two people enter—men, by the sound of their footsteps. Someone unlocks the door to Naruto's enclosure.

"Why is he blindfolded?"

Naruto feels emotion swell inside him at the sound of the voice.

Sasuke.

"Spy prevention."

"He's in a tent," Sasuke seethes. "He can't see the camp from here. And the gag? The torso binds?"

"Danzo's orders, sir. He was being uncooperative."

"There are no cooperative prisoners." Then a pause, one of someone waiting. "I need the keys to his chains."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Sasuke-sama," a man says. "I'm under strict orders from Danzo—"

"Remember where your loyalties lie," Sasuke bites. "You may lock the enclosure after I enter. We cannot bargain with the Senju if their heir turns into a vegetable. I'm sure you don't want to jeopardize our leverage in the war, do you? Now, the keys."

"Sir—"

"The keys."

"Yes, sir."

The keys are dropped into a waiting hand. Sasuke steps into the enclosure and the man locks the door behind him. "I'll call for you when I am finished here. You may leave."

When the man has stepped out, Sasuke carefully removes Naruto's blindfold. The eyes that blink up at him have gunk hanging off the lashes, but are still bright as the sky. Naruto sees the concern in Sasuke's face—sees the internal war between family and friendship behind his eyes—and tries for a reassuring smile when the gag is removed, but finds his face crumpling instead. Blue eyes come to settle on the Uchiha crests adorning Sasuke's kimono. Sasuke hesitates for a moment before reaching out to run his fingers through matted blonde hair.

Naruto sniffles at him. He sets to unlocking his binds.

Shrugging off the suit and ankle chains, Naruto gingerly pulls his arms forward with a groan, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his legs. He suddenly becomes conscious of his own stink. He sees Sasuke eye his cut lip with a frown and tries to turn his face away. Sasuke reaches out to steady his chin, and he shrinks back slightly at the quickness of his grasp. The movement is small, but Sasuke catches it. He drops his hand and opts for sitting down across from him.

"Did they hurt you?"

A stupid question. Naruto glares wetly at him, then looks curiously at the bucket of water and backpack on the ground. Seeing this, Sasuke takes a towel from the pack and wets it in the bucket. He tries to hand it to Naruto, who only looks at him. Permission.

Sasuke swallows as he moves forward and awkwardly dabs at his lip, removing old blood. Naruto's bruised cheek and ribs had already faded to a dull yellow from Kurama's healing abilities. Sasuke wipes at Naruto until the water in the bucket becomes murky.

They don't speak much at first—as if they've forgotten how to without the rage and adrenaline of the battlefield. Then Naruto takes in a quivering breath, working his jaw. "I've figured it out—that black fire from the other day. It wasn't to keep me from escaping at all, was it?"

Sasuke hums, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

A pause. "What's inside you?"

Sasuke knows he's asking about the color of Susanoo's armor. "Izanagi."

"So he's real?" Naruto isn't all that surprised—Kurama rests inside himself, after all. "I read about Izanagi as a child—and Amaterasu, Tsukuyomi, and Susanoo. They're all in you, too?"

"Hn."

Naruto chuckles at the sound. He leans forward and buries his face in Sasuke's neck. "Having so much, but not enough. It hurts, ne?" In the familiarity of Sasuke's scent, Naruto lets the shell of dreams he had built over his days in prison spill over. It shatters with the most intricate patterns of fractures.

It does, Naruto. So, so much.

And Naruto knows he hurts. They carry more than just ancient souls and spirits within them—they carry the history of their clans and it's heavy, weighing and tearing at the unlikely bond that they had formed by a river all those years ago.

The silence of Naruto's crying unsettles Sasuke.


The warriors jump in their seats at the sound of the table breaking neatly into two. Hashirama sighs—they've been replacing many tables as of late. His heart sinks as he looks at his enraged daughter. He hates being in this position. "Kushina—"

"No," the woman seethes, her arm still out in front of her, hovering over the table she had just snapped in half. "My son is not a piece in Danzo's sick game. There must be another way."

"We can carry out a rescue mission. Dead of night, with some of our best men. I will lead it," Tobirama suggests. He's invaded enemy territory before.

"We would be leading our men to their deaths—Naruto could be anywhere inside the camp. It's brimming with Uchiha. We don't even know if he's at the camp in the first place. He could be anywhere now." Hashirama closes his eyes. His head hurts from the lack of sleep. He tries to push the pain away. "Danzo has given his ultimatum. We must have faith in Naruto now."

"It's too simple," Tsunade says. "Danzo knows how strong Naruto is. There's something he isn't saying. Remember the other peace treaty?"

"It cost Minato his life," Kushina bites. "I can't let this one take my son."

"As much as I hate this, we have no other choice," Jiraiya pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. "I say we sign the agreement now, then come up with a plan if this all goes awry."

Kushina lets her arm fall to her side. With Naruto as prisoner, she knows there's nothing they can do. Her father is right. Signing the agreement is the only thing they can do to keep her son alive now. Once the fight commences, she'd be able to see him. The Senju would be able to find a way to protect him. He doesn't truly need their protection, though—he's grown to be stronger than them all.

Hashirama looks at the warriors collected in the Commandant Room and sighs again. He has never seen a room so sullen. Naruto is a young man loved by them all, and his capture had taken its toll. The latest mission report had two accounts. It stated that he both turned against his own men to protect an Uchiha and to give his freedom for the escape of his unit. He suspects this is the same Uchiha from the forest, and can only hope the Uchiha is doing his best to protect Naruto now. Naruto's life relies on that bond Hashirama had witnessed all those years ago.

"Naruto is strong," he says, as he inks his signature into the letter. "We must believe in him."


The forest is loud in the dark of the night. Sasuke steps carefully around the perimeter of the camp as he completes his round of night watch. He had been confused when Kakashi had asked him to fill in for him—as a head general, Sasuke no longer carried out the duties of a regular warrior—but had accepted anyways. The man had been adamant, and Sasuke trusted him. He is thankful now for the chance to be away from the bustling camp.

His eyes pick up movement to his left and he flicks his head in its direction. He makes out the outline of a man taller than himself and dashes through the undergrowth with his hand on the hilt of his blade. The shadow comes closer and closer in his pursuit.

Almost—

The man turns around when the sounds of his footsteps are within earshot. Sasuke freezes. Red eyes.

An Uchiha?

"You are not supposed to be here—"

Then he makes out the face, one he recognizes from the stories and visions that Izanagi had given him. He doesn't believe it.

Brother?

"Sasuke," the man—his brother—says. His eyes are red to help him see in the darkness, but Sasuke makes out a whirlwind of emotions behind the dark lashes. "You've grown—quite a lot."

Sasuke is too stunned to reply. He freezes, hand still gripping his katana. His voice is wary when he speaks. "Who are you?"

The man before him smiles, and he finds himself softening. His face is kind. "Ah, forgive my manners. I am Itachi, your brother—but you probably already know that."

"I do," Sasuke's heart threatens to break his chest. "You're supposed to be dead."

But Izanagi never showed him that. He'd seen the bodies of his parents being burned, but never Itachi. It was all an assumption.

"That's a long story," Itachi takes a seat by a tree and gestures to the floor. "Take a seat."

"I'm on duty—"

"Kakashi will see to it," Itachi pats the empty patch of grass next to him. "Come here."

Kakashi—a spy? Goddammit.

"Alright, you need to explain." Sasuke takes an uneasy seat on the ground, awkwardly pushing his katana into a comfortable position. Itachi waits for him, patient.

"I was told that you now carry Izanagi." When Sasuke nods in response, Itachi continues. "As do I. Therefore, you also understand the history of the people in this war, and the history of our family—our parents. Our mother handed you to me when the Senju attacked, and I ran away with you. We were in the forest, and it was raining—and—I fell. I hate myself to this day for it.

"I fell and you cried out. The Senju team had been retreating from the compound, and they heard you. They came after us. At first, I hid with you, but I had left behind footsteps in the dirt—they would see them. So I tucked you underneath the bushes for the spirits of the forest, and I ran to distract them. I already had Izanagi then, you see, but I was too young to control it. I couldn't summon his powers. I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry—"

"Itachi, if you were alive all this time," Sasuke interrupts. "Why didn't you come for me?"

His brother looks at him gently, painfully. "I wanted to, Sasuke. So much. But Izanagi and the forest spirits don't communicate, you see—they don't necessarily agree. Their histories tie them to two warring clans. In a sense, they are at war as well. I had given you to the care of the spirits for your own safety that night. If I were to have taken you back, or even have shown my face, I would have made you an Uchiha once more. You would have grown up with war. You would never have seen the spirits again, and you were safer with them. It was the choice I made."

"I was lonely."

"But safe."

A shared breath. "I carry Izanagi now—can I no longer speak to the forest spirits?"

"You cannot."

Sasuke digests this. Izanagi's story of enemy and friend makes more sense to him now. He bites his tongue, furious with himself for not having understood earlier. He wonders if he'll be able to have Naruto communicate with Matatabi for him. "How did you survive?"

"I was small and it made it easier to hide. I made my way to a small village at first. Kaasan told me to never come back, to wait until the war was over—so we would be safe. She even cut Uchiha off your name ribbon. I lived like a rat for a few years in a village in Suna, fighting for scraps and sleeping in alleys. Izanagi kept me from any real harm. Eventually I returned and found Shisui, who had left the Uchiha. He'd just lost his father and was tired of war. Sick of it, even. We traveled together and eventually ran into Yahiko, who took us into the Akatsuki. They were a group of war orphans, like me. He talked of forming a bridge to peace from the war. So I joined, to find that peace and eventually be able to take you back home.

"This whole time, though, I've always kept an eye on you. I saw that you were healthy, and that you had formed a friendship with the Senju boy. You were well cared for, and that was enough for me. I didn't want to intervene and mess everything up. At first, it was all good. The Uchiha shouldn't have been on Senju ground the night they found you, but Izumi had been stubborn, I guess, even though Kakashi tried to persuade her otherwise. And just like that, you were an Uchiha again, and part of the war. But the bridge to peace, Sasuke—it's the bond you share with Naruto. I strongly believe in that."

Sasuke had been listening intently. He shakes his head now, voice breaking when he speaks. "I was lonely. Naruto was always gone. I wanted a family so, so bad. I know you must've seen that, at least. I just—wanted—a family."

"I'm here now, Sasuke. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're really fucking late, niisan."

He can't help the smile that breaks across his face at the affectionate term. "Yeah," he laughs halfheartedly. "I am."

They talk for hours, Sasuke surprised at the ease of their conversation, the natural flow of words coming together. He tells his brother about his years in the forest, about Naruto, and then about returning to the Uchiha. Itachi tells him about the Akatsuki, the Senju, and Danzo, and Sasuke relies all he knows to him. He even tells him about the burials, the unrecognizable men who take care of the dead warriors, the sound of Danzo speaking to these men at ungodly hours of the night. Itachi nods throughout this.

When the sun begins to rise, Sasuke returns to camp. A warrior approaches him just as he is about to enter his tent and holds out a folded letter. "Danzo-sama has for summoned you, sir."

He ignores him.


"I met my brother," Sasuke says as he settles down to undo Naruto's blindfold and the rest of his binds. He sees patience in the blue eyes, pauses, then continues. "Itachi."

Sasuke visits Naruto in odd intervals—sometimes he comes at night, other times at dawn. Sometimes, Naruto will wait for days before he hears the familiar voice commanding the guards to leave. He looks forward to their meetings. Sasuke is different now, but Naruto can feel them growing closer again. With each little touch and every shared word, they regain a little semblance of the past.

When Sasuke isn't there, he sits shrouded in darkness, the gag rubbing painfully against the edges of his mouth and his arms screaming for movement in his binds. He swallows the bread placed at his lips, and gulps down water that tastes like rotten earth. When Sasuke isn't there, he pushes as much of his existence away as possible. He pushes himself into his shell of dreams, into the forest by the flowing river. Often, he tries to skip stones, but it's hard. He's tired.

In the darkness, however, he also realizes his own selfishness. This loneliness. This constant waiting. It is all Sasuke had known when they were younger, in the forest. He always took, and Sasuke always gave.

I was so full of myself.

Sasuke's voice pulls him out of the forest as if waking from a dream. He blinks to adjust to having his sight once more. "What?"

"Yeah," Sasuke laughs, but it sounds more like a sigh. "Long story."

"Sasuke, in case you haven't noticed, I've got all of time itself in this shit hole," Naruto stands and stretches out each of his limbs when the rest of the bonds are removed. He does a few hops to get his blood flowing and tries to ignore his soiled pants. "Do tell."

Sasuke does, when they're both seated, watching the colors of Naruto's eyes shift with every word. He wonders briefly if this is what the ocean looks like—shifting shades of blue folding into themselves over and over again. He pauses to dig out six onigiri from his pack, and hands them to Naruto, who gobbles them up heartily. He had brought two for himself to snack on, but upon seeing Naruto's hungry eyes, hands them to him instead. Naruto nods as he chews on every bite.

"Hn," he says when Sasuke is finished, too in awe for real words. He sucks on his fingers, ignoring the black underneath his fingernails.

"I know."

"You forgive him, though? For never speaking to you all those years?"

"I think so," He chews on the inside of his cheek. "I guess."

"Good." Naruto flashes him a smile, but it fades quickly. Sasuke tries to treasure it. "Ne, have you heard anything from home—from the Senju? I just—"

"Sasuke-sama, I apologize for the interruption, but Danzo has summoned you again," says one of the guards as he pokes a head into the tent. His face wrinkles at the stench. The crinkles of paper echo dully in the enclosure as he waves Danzo's letter in the air. "He is growing impatient."

Sasuke grunts in reply and the man retreats. He turns back to Naruto, who takes the cue and holds out his arms. He hates this part of their visits. Naruto takes his seat by the wooden stake once more and lets Sasuke shackle his ankles and bind his arms to his torso. Naruto looks at him, eyes swimming with trust and patience, but Sasuke sees the exhaustion behind the facade. Naruto had always been full of life. It scares him to see it fade.

"Can't you stay?"

Naruto's whisper is louder than cries in battle. He ties the rag over blue eyes. Hates himself for it. "Forgive me, Naruto."

Because—how can I blindfold my sky?


His hand shakes has he reads Danzo's curved script. He sees his own name. Naruto's name. A threat to the Senju heir's life. A way out of that threat. Senju Hashirama's signature of approval. An agreement—a treaty of sorts. He pushes past Danzo's guard and shoves his way into the man's tent.

Seeing him, Danzo leans forward in the seat at his desk. "I summoned for you hours ago."

"What is this?" Sasuke slams the letter onto the wooden surface, fuming when the man looks lazily up at him.

Danzo clasps his hands slowly. "Ah, that would be my victory."

"I didn't agree to this," he narrows his eyes, can feel his senses heighten as they turn red.

"No need—the Senju and I did. Arrangements have already been made. An arena will be prepared and the final battle will commence in three nights," Danzo says. "You will have these next few days off your duties to train. You are strong, Sasuke—I am confident in your ability to win the war for the Uchiha."

Sasuke looks back down at the letter on the desk. Perhaps Danzo was right—perhaps he could win the war. End it all. Peace—it's all anyone ever wants anymore.

A proposal for peace in a battle of the heirs.

Uzumaki Naruto of Senju will fight Uchiha Sasuke at the border of the ground of Uchiha and the ground of Senju.

Clan members shall not be armed.

Victory is determined when only one draws breath.

The victor's clan will take the Land of Fire.

The other will have until nightfall to depart the Land of Fire.

All further consequences to be determined by the victorious clan.

Refusal of this proposal will result in the immediate death of Uzumaki Naruto of Senju.

Shackled inside the tent, Naruto falls back into the forest to skip stones across a river, unaware of the agreement between the two clans. He tumbles out of the dream to the sounds of Sasuke arguing with the guards, then of brief fighting, then silence. Shaking his head, he declares the noise a part of his dream. Two days later, he is woken by the sound of his enclosure opening. He sits silently, expecting breakfast, not the sharp pain of something thin being plunged into his left arm. He jerks wildly, and falls back. Not into the forest, but into nothing.


"You sure about this?"

Kakashi raises his head to the red sky of a cracking dawn and takes a deep breath. The air is crisp in his lungs. He turns to appraise the two men in front of him before bending to his knee. Their dark cloaks sway softly with their breaths. He presses a hand into the cool dirt of the fresh grave. "Somewhat."

"We're about to dig up our dead cousin," Shisui says flatly. He shakes his head. "This needs to be more than just somewhat."

"Well 'somewhat' is the best I got at the moment."

"I trust Sasuke." Itachi sighs. "Better get started then. The sun will be up soon."

The three men carve away at the soil until they uncover the lifeless body of one of Sasuke's unit. Killed by Naruto's men. The rot had started setting in, but the evidence is clear as day. They stare at the warrior's pale face in horror.

Shisui's eyes flash red for a moment before he takes a breath, composing himself. "You were right."

"I sincerely wish I was not," Kakashi murmurs. His hands tremble in his realization. "The Akatsuki need to be on their feet during the final battle. I suspect Danzo will be making his move then."

A solemn silence falls over the men as they push the dirt back into the grave they had opened. Itachi tries to shove away the image of his dead cousin's face, with black veins spidered across pallid skin.

And gaping holes where his eyes should have been.


There is something jammed into his middle. His eyebrows furrow, and he frowns as he tries to roll away from it, but cannot. It's too heavy.

Then he notices light—pink and faded. It's warm.

He grunts, sitting up with some difficulty and realizing he is no longer blindfolded. He opens his eyes, squinting at his surroundings. He jumps to his feet in panic and almost falls back down. "What the—"

He is in a clearing in the forest, and by the looks of the blackened edges of a few trees, it's been cleared into an open area with fire. Surrounded by people—he makes out the faces of Hashirama and Tobirama among what seems to be a group of Senju warriors. Sitting. Watching him. They seem angry. Furious. They are glaring at something, and he turns around to see the Uchiha on the other side of the clearing. He recognizes Danzo, Madara, Obito, and Kakashi.

There are seats with patterns engraved into the red wood. Cushioned with silk. Hashirama and Madara are seated on opposite ends of the clearing, each surrounded by their own clan. There are no weapons in sight. Naruto's breath quickens as he realizes they are watching him—he's in an arena.

He shakes his head, rubbing his eyes as the mugginess fades away. He remembers the prick in his arm before everything faded. He had been drugged—and cleaned. Changed into his armor. His own katana, which had been taken away upon his capture, is now attached to his hip. He hears a scuff behind him and turns around.

Sasuke, clad in blue armor with a katana at his hip, emerges from the crowd of Uchiha.

Naruto stares openly at him. "What's going on?"

Sasuke almost looks sullen. "This is Danzo's proposal for peace. Our last battle."

"What?" He looks around him. "No one's fighting."

"That's because we are."

"What?"

"We are the last battle, Naruto." Sasuke says. "It was a signed agreement. As the known heirs to our clans, we are to fight until only one of us draws breath. The victor claims the Land of Fire, and the other must leave—"

"No," Naruto locks eyes with Danzo, enraged. "Why wasn't I informed? I was drugged and thrown here. I refuse. You hear that? No."

"Naruto—"

"You signed my fate away." Naruto's eyes turn to regard his clan. "Tell me, was it easy?"

Hashirama closes his eyes. "They threatened to kill you, Naruto, if we did not. We had no choice."

Naruto considers this. "Did you know about this?" Blue eyes fix on Sasuke. "You didn't think to tell me? No one thought to let me know? Instead, I'm put to sleep?"

Sasuke swallows. "I didn't know until after it was all signed—I tried to, but they wouldn't let me—I'm sorry—"

You could have burned them. Then we'd be free, he thinks, but reprimands himself for even considering the idea. He charges forward until his breath washes over Sasuke's face. His eyes narrow. "I trusted you."

Sasuke hesitates for a moment, facade almost breaking, but collects himself quickly. He chooses his next words carefully, softly. "If we fight, we'll save lives and bloodshed. It'll just be the two of us. Then the war will end and in the future—boys like us can be friends, and a name wouldn't change a thing. We are the bridge to peace."

"It's not peace if one of our clans is going to lose its home, teme!" He snarls, then considers the situation. Sasuke waits. Naruto's face falls when he finally understands. Just one more life. One more. It'll all be over.

A name wouldn't change a thing.

He turns and faces his clan—his family and friends. Hashirama and Tobirama. Ero-sennin. There's Lee, Sakura, Karin. Neji, who nods at him despite the fact Naruto had held a blade to his throat. And Kiba. Tenten. Shikamaru. Chouji, who still owes him ramen. His mother, in battle armor. He had known she could fight, but had never seen her in armor. He hopes she will never find reason to wear it again.

You would all be safe. Just one more life. One more.

Naruto turns back to Sasuke, eyes focused on his chest. He cannot look him in the eyes as he draws his katana from its sheath. It shines in the sun like a promise. He smiles down at it. "Perhaps in another life, ne, Sasuke? We wouldn't have to be Senju and Uchiha, then. We'd just be Naruto and Sasuke."

Naruto looks up to see the pain in Sasuke's eyes. Sasuke smiles sadly at him, as if in reassurance. He breaks the gaze after a long moment and inhales, widening his stance. With his exhale, he pushes Sasuke out of his mind.

Him. His katana. The enemy. The same dance of three as always. Kurama is hot inside him, and he feels his spirit come alive just as the glow of Izanagi rises from within the enemy.

He meets his mother's eyes. Steady. Fierce.

It was never a question of Sasuke or Senju. It was always Senju. It would always be Senju.

The enemy counters his first blow. Naruto keeps his eyes trained to his chest—blue in armor.

Uchiha. Enemy.

He pushes the blade out, making enough space for him to spin and kick his opponent away. The other man flies back, but lands on a foot and uses the leverage to throw himself forward again as if he is dancing. Three shuriken fly towards him as he is raising his sword against the blade coming down. Naruto manages to dodge two, but one lodges itself in his thigh. He yanks it out with a grunt. Kurama's spirit sets to closing the wound.

The enemy is a flurry of glowing indigo. He moves with amazing speed, and Naruto is surprised—he has never fought anyone who has been able to keep up with him and Kurama in their most fiery of moments. Naruto flies across the arena, picking up the three shuriken from earlier and throwing them at the opponent in quick succession. They become engulfed in black flames before they hit and wither to the ground.

He counters another strike with his katana, then another and another. Coming at him from all sides. He blocks a kick to his head with his arm and catches the ankle. Pulls to throw his opponent off balance. The man spins midair and lands a kick to his face with his other foot. Blood fills his mouth when he bites his tongue. He releases his hold on the ankle.

The two heirs fight blade to blade for hours, running on sheer will and determination. They never look one another in the face. The grace of the fight eventually fades into clumsy dodges and hurried strikes. Naruto punches his opponent in his left ear, breaking the eardrum from the pressure, and kicks his ankle. The Uchiha lands on his side, his katana flying out of his grasp. Naruto raises his own katana, then sees the black flames licking its blade. Enraged, he plunges his sword down. The enemy tries to turn. The katana makes its way into his shoulder, between the thick metal plates of his armor. He twists it, and the flames disappear. His opponent yells in pain and anger.

That voice.

Blue eyes rise from the armored chest to meet an ebony gaze, seeing the furrow of dark brows and the sweat that has his hair plastered to his face. His face, scrunched in agony. Blood drips from his left ear.

Sasuke. In agony.

Naruto chokes on his heart. In his pause, Sasuke yanks the sword from his own shoulder with a grunt and throws it to the side. He throws himself up and forward, his shoulder screaming when he lands a second time on the ground, hovering over Naruto. His broken eardrum threatens to break his head with its piercing throb. The spirits of Izanagi and Kurama flare at the edges where they touch.

Sasuke punches him across the jaw. Hard.

The punch splits his lip. Metal fills his mouth again. He yells and throws a fist into Sasuke's face. Pulls his leg in and kicks the man off him so they're both on the ground—on their hands and knees—chests heaving as their lungs pull in the humid summer air.

For Senju.

He barrels into Sasuke so they are rolling in the dirt of the arena, pummeling his fists into his gut, his face, his shoulder. He dents the blue amor. Widens the shoulder wound. Sasuke roars, grabs him by the head, and knees him in the face. Naruto is sure his nose is broken. With a cry, he slams his forehead into Sasuke's. Grabs his long, dark hair and does it again. And again. And again.

For Senju.

Naruto's vision flickers out for a second. His body aches. Sweat falls from his skin like rain. He realizes that neither of them are glowing with their spirits any longer. "Why us?"

I'm so tired.

He rams his head into Sasuke's again, but the movement is clumsy and their noses slide against one another. He winces at the pain. "Why?"

I'm so tired, Sasuke.

He looks at the blood painted across Sasuke's face, and then lightly rests his forehead against his. Sasuke—his Sasuke from the forest—squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation of more pain and Naruto aches. Sasuke opens his eyes.

"I don't know."

Your eyes are like a summer night on fire. With a splash of stars. Funny—they were the first things I noticed about you. Oh, Sasuke. There was Senju, but there was always you, too.

"I did this to you," he tries to breathe, running his fingers over the blood and the bruises on Sasuke's face. His lungs grasp at the air like the claws of a predator into prey. He feels like he is inhaling Sasuke, pulling him into himself. It reminds him of the waves of the ocean, gripping at the earth in handfuls. "Sasuke—I'm tired. Na, Sasuke? Maybe we never really understood each other. Me—I was stuck between family and you. Always stuck, but now I'm tired. I'm really, really tired. I don't want to be stuck anymore."

It was Senju for the future Commander, but for me—for my heart—I choose you, Sasuke. For a future where a name wouldn't change a thing.

He reaches down and plucks a kunai from the strap on Sasuke's leg. Holds it to his own throat. He closes his eyes. Inhale. He thinks he hears his mother scream his name. Exhale. The edge of the blade meets skin and he feels the warm trickle of blood—

"Don't you dare," Sasuke hisses. Naruto opens his eyes and finds that the blood he feels is not his own. Sasuke grips the blade of the kunai in his fingers. "Don't you fucking dare leave me like that, Naruto. Stay."

He smiles. "One more life, ne? Then it'll all be over." Naruto feels heat push against his eyes. His heart hurts. Sasuke's wet knuckles against his throat hurts. In his hesitation, Sasuke slides a needle-thin blade from his sleeve and holds it to his own throat.

"No, Sasuke."

"That's not fair now, is it?"

"No. Sasuke, please."

They must be quite a sight, Naruto realizes. Uchiha and Senju on the ground, each threatening to take his own life. Each begging the other not to.

"When we were only boys," Sasuke murmurs. The corners of his lips lift up into a gentle, pained smile. "All you ever wanted was to be Senju commander. Naruto, how will you do that if you die?"

Naruto looks into those eyes again, seeing that they had turned to their familiar black, and his chest threatens to burst.

He's always so beautiful when he smiles.

It pushes and pushes and tears well up in his eyes and a sob escapes his throat. Naruto touches his forehead against Sasuke's again, overwhelmed, and whispers—

Stay.

"Sasuke, you can't—because I—I love you. I love you and you can't leave. Okay?"

"Usuratonkachi." Sasuke yanks the kunai from Naruto's grip and throws it to the edge of the arena. Naruto pulls away the thin blade and falls weakly at his side. Facing him, he brings his hands—one quivering and bleeding, the other strong and steady—to Naruto's cheeks. He tries for a laugh. It comes out broken. "Try that again and I'll kill you myself."

In his hold, Naruto breaks into pieces the way the sun breaks into fragmented flecks across the forest floor. His sobs rack through his body, shaking the Senju and the Uchiha, who stare at the heirs, unable to comprehend the scene. Naruto reaches out for him, a smile rising through his tears. His quiet laugh shakes him like the wind. "Teme—"

Something falls across his cheeks. Wet. Warm. Lands in his open mouth. A metallic tang. Sasuke jerks underneath his hands and coughs up a mouthful of blood. "Naruto—"

Naruto looks down and feels himself tear at the seams, thread by thread. The tip of an arrow protrudes from Sasuke's middle, broken straight through his armor. His breath comes in rapid gasps. "No, no, no no no."

Naruto sits up and gathers Sasuke into his arms, cradling his mess of dark hair to his chest. He breaks the arrowhead off and pulls the rest out from Sasuke's back. Sasuke jerks, coughs up more blood, and Naruto holds him tighter, pressing his hand against the wound. The blood gushes through his fingers and the armor is slippery to the touch. "No, Sasuke. You can't. That's not fair, you said. Okay? Don't go, Sasuke—please, oh, please—don't leave. Stay, okay? I stayed. Sasuke, please."

"I'm staying," he tries, but it comes out shattered with gasps and blood. Sasuke grips Naruto's forearm and offers him a tight-lipped smile. Naruto runs his fingers across his cheek, but ends up smearing his blood across his face. He looks at his own hand, soaked in the red of the boy from the forest. Looks at Sasuke's left hand, ragged and cut to save him from the kunai he had turned to himself. He sees but doesn't see. His vision fades and then focuses as the tear inside him builds itself into blind rage. Blue eyes raise to see a masked man across the arena, bow in hand. The glow of his spirit explodes like the birth of the sun and dances around him like wild flames.

Sasuke closes his eyes against the light in his hands.

Stay.


He doesn't quite comprehend what happens after the heat of his anger consumes him. There are glimpses of white, then a focus on the masked man. Sasuke grips at his arms as he moves away. Anger spins inside him. He picks his katana up from the ground, stands and faces the masked man. More masked figures appear from behind the trees. They remind him of the sketches he had seen in his childhood scrolls and books. Myths. Not real, but real.

In a flash of golden light, Naruto reaches the man and backhands the mask from his face. His hand closes around his throat. The eyes of the man are red. His voice is still, quiet when he speaks. "Why?"

The man's eyes flicker briefly to someone behind him. A plea. Naruto flicks his head back to follow the gaze to Danzo. It clicks. He yanks the man's tongue from his throat and tosses him to the ground. He advances on Danzo.

"The Shimura shall rise." Danzo raises a hand—almost lazily—and the arena fills with the screams of battle. Red flickers from beneath the masks as they slaughter the unarmed Uchiha and Senju. He sees the red clouds of dark cloaks flow out of the forest to their aid.

Careful, Naruto.

Naruto ignores him and relinquishes control. Kurama's spirit consumes him. The Sun of Senju leaps into the masked men, blinded by anger and pain, painting his skin with blood that is not his own. He flies through the fight at incomparable speed, growling and screaming. Naruto sees Tobirama with a brutally cut shoulder, holding out his arm to block an attack from hitting Kushina's back as she sends a warrior flying with a kick. He runs to them. The man is dead before the blade comes down. He does this over and over, ending lives with his bare hands after his katana is knocked out of his grasp, until the last masked man falls. Danzo howls as Hashirama grabs him and Madara holds a Shimura katana to his throat. He stares at Naruto in disbelief.

Exhaustion settles over his heart. He is tired at the same time that he isn't.

Naruto turns back and finds Sasuke curled into a black pool of his own blood, still. He goes to him, folding him into his arms, and shakes him lightly. "Sasuke?"

Sasuke's eyelids flutter and the edges of his mouth lift. "Hn?"

Naruto releases the breath caught in his throat. He presses his lips to Sasuke's sweaty hairline. "Hold on, okay?"

He shifts Sasuke onto his own back. He looks at his mother. Sees her mouth the word go, and runs. No one calls out to him.


Love is an unfamiliar thing to Sakura. She's had her fair share of late nights curled into the warmth of a Senju warrior, legs tangled into the sheets. Of stolen kisses and shy smiles. But she knows it has never been love.

Tsunade had asked her to stay behind to watch over the patients in the Senju Infirmary, and she had obeyed, dedicated to her duties as a medic. She aches to support Naruto in the last battle of heirs, but her presence is needed more here. It's quieter than usual in the compound, with the majority of the warrior out to watch the battle. A few dozen had stayed behind in case Danzo had other plans.

When all the patients have been tended to for the time being, Sakura sets to rearranging the supply cabinets. She frowns—the junior medics always seem to leave a mess of the clean towels—

"Sakura-chan!" The front door of the infirmary slides open with a slam that shakes the entire building. She turns her head at the familiar voice in disbelief. "Sakura-chan—please—help him."

Naruto lumbers into the room, blood streaked in his face and hair. His golden armor is now mostly red. He has a dark-haired warrior on his back, seemingly asleep in blue armor—

Uchiha?

"Naruto? What are you doing here?" She runs over to him as he is setting the Uchiha down on an empty bed. "What's going on?"

"Just help him," Naruto pleads. He holds the Uchiha's face in his shaking hands, trying to smooth the black hair back. His voice falls to a whisper. "Please."

Senju or not, a patient is a patient.

"Remove his clothing," Sakura stands by the Uchiha to assess his situation. She takes in the deep gashes on his left hand, the dried blood caked around his left ear, the fresh blood seeping from his stomach and shoulder. His lips are almost white. "He's losing too much blood. I need to get him stable."

Naruto shakes his head and begins to talk to himself, still hovering over the warrior. He sounds like he's stuck between arguing and pleading. Irritated, Sakura pushes him away from the Uchiha, ignoring his whimper, and sets to work.

She is patching up the stomach wound when Naruto returns to the table, calmer than before. She notices that his nose is crooked, swollen, and stretches over to reset it. He yowls at the sudden crack and swats her away. Satisfied, Sakura returns to her patient.

She is about to kick Naruto in the groin when he presses his hand over the Uchiha's stomach wound and ruins her handiwork, but settles for staring in awe when his hand glows a pale gold. The tears of the skin repair themselves. When he removes his hand, the wound is still tender, but closed. He moves on to the shoulder, then the ear, and finally the hand. To make herself useful, Sakura cleans up the shallower cuts and prepares a healing ointment to spread atop the wounds. Questions spin in her head, but melt at Naruto's distress. She won't bother him now.

"You should get cleaned up," she says. "I'll tend to him."

Naruto hesitates.

"He'll be fine. Thanks to you," Sakura nods towards the door while rubbing the ointment into the Uchiha's skin. "Go on."

Naruto returns later, clean of blood and grit. The pack strapped across his chest is bulging. She doesn't question him, just hands him a smaller bundle of basic medical supplies. He smiles. "I knew I could rely on you, Sakura-chan."

Sakura watches as Naruto bends over the Uchiha warrior to run a finger along a bloody cheekbone. His movement is tender, soft even. Uzumaki Naruto of Senju had always been a boisterous warrior, full of bursting energy and quick movements. She had never seen him settle down to anything as quiet and gentle as the way he holds the Uchiha when he runs a wet towel over his skin, or in the way he redresses him in clean clothing, lightly sliding the silk over his wounds. His stormy blue eyes quiet to a summer sky in the way he gazes at him.

With Sakura's help, Naruto hauls the Uchiha onto his back. The patient isn't in the best state for movement, but she knows better than to argue with Naruto on this point. The heir has his mind set on something.

"Thank you." Naruto kisses her cheek before he sets out again. As she watches them leave, she tells herself—this must be what love is.