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By the next morning, your captors have been apprehended. You hold onto your brother's attention the following days, and he doesn't leave your side, as aggressive as a hawk protecting its territory. You pretend to not notice the additional weapons on his body when he guides you outside. You do not protest when he does not permit you to lift anything, or work. He cooks, cleans the floors. Even when you lift a blanket, he takes it out of your hands and folds them away for the morning.
"You shouldn't move your arm, nii-san."
You release your hold on the comb. You wonder when you became broken to him, that he would gather your hair back and tie it together for you.
He flies around you every waking moment, as if he has forgotten about revenge. You know better.
"Thank you, Sakura." You hear the front door close.
He trusts her. Not only of her skills, but her as a person. Few has that trust.
"Itachi-san." She knocks, then peers into the bedroom. Her demeanor, way of grace, disperses the heavy mood. "Sasuke-kun told me you're injured?"
And she came at this late hour without a fuss. Few are that reliable.
You greet her warmly, and she takes that as initiative to dart in and unlatch her bag. "Ah, I'd expect something like this from Naruto, not him," she sighs. "Honestly, he should have known better than to spar you. Boys get their own personal medic, and think life has a reset button."
You smile. Sparring is of things you could no longer service your brother with. You cannot pose any challenge for him, not anymore.
When the bandages fall, her eyes widen at the row of stitches. Sasuke will not wound you like this, and her eyes ask you for answers. You provide you none, except, "Will please you find Kakashi-san? Naruto-kun as well, if possible."
She understands the implication, and dashes out. You take the key Sasuke has hid from you, and leave as well.
By the time you step down the prison steps, there is already blood on the walls, a scream echoing the corridor. There is the sickening sound of bones against cement, of impalement, before a series of broken sobs shrinks to a whimper.
At the final turn, the flickers of black flame come into view, as does a girl pinned by a katana through her shoulder.
"You die last."
"N-no, don't- g-GET AWAY FROM ME-AAAH!"
A skeletal hand tears her body from her arm, holds her in a fist like a rag doll.
"N-no, p-p-please-"
"Did you think you could commit a crime against me and go unpunished," he lulls, the fist squeezing, "you..." tighter, "filthy..." and tighter, "whore."
"SASUKE!" Naruto's voice is unheard, and you close your eyes when the hand clenches close. There is nothing left but the splatter of blood and bone.
Slowly, the Susano'o fades and Naruto runs free of its imprisonment. He shoves his friend against the wall. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!" he screams, body shaken.
"Sasuke, they were going to face trial. You did not need-"
"No." There is the swirl of the Sharingan. His face is wiped with indifference, voice toneless. "She had the key. They were going to escape."
"Sasuke-!"
Sasuke pushes Naruto off him. "They attack you, you attack back, they attack again. Like bacteria, any loose ends and the problem returns worse than before. The only way to end the cycle, the only cure..." He pulls out his katana and the arm splashes into a puddle of blood. "... is to eliminate the enemy thoroughly, once and for all..."
"Sasuke, this is not something you can freely take into your own hands. The village-"
"Did nothing." The atmosphere turns frigid. "I saw, Kakashi. I saw my brother kidnapped in plain sight. I saw how everyone watched, turned their backs, and let the thieves parade the streets like heroes." The grip on his katana is shaking, his knuckles white. "And they dare be happy, dare have that glee in their eyes to know my brother suffers."
The conversation does a dangerous turn, as the Sharingan spins for more blood.
"It's not like that," Naruto's voice comes out as a croak. " They... they don't know-"
"And that gives them the right to cripple my brother," Sasuke states chillingly, "to strip him of the power to even defend himself, then impassively watch him be assaulted."
"Sasuke," Kakashi says calmly. "Regardless of what everyone else has or has not done, look what you have done first."
Sasuke stares at the blood at his feet, the semblance of a twisted human hand with a silver necklace weaved around the fingers.
"I have done nothing but keep Konoha safe."
Your chakra is too weak, and Sasuke's is too strong. No one can sense you. You are gone before they can.
Sakura awaits above. She wants to go down, has been debating even if they have told her not to. But you exploit her sense of duty and morals. When you ask her politely for medical assistance, she cannot refuse.
By the time your brother returns home, the darkest hour has already passed, and you lie in your futon, eyes closed.
You do not react when his fingers glide across your cheek. "I'll protect you, nii-san," he whispers. "I promise... I'll destroy anyone who dares hurt you." You do not react to the brush of his lips against yours.
The sun shines next morning. The kitchen is filled with Sakura's radiance as she assembles a tank.
"Nii-san, I finally got it." Your brother grins at you when he steps out of the bath, drying his hair with a towel. Sakura reaches for a fern, accidentally knocks it off the counter. He catches it, then proceeds to help her fill the tank.
"You know, I still can't believe the little one is still alive," Sakura muses at the lively swordtail.
The scene requires a third actor, and your mouth find words on its own. "What do you mean?"
At this, Sakura scratches her head in embarrassment. "They're a little more sensitive than I thought. I didn't have much time to care for mine, so I gave it to mom. She, uhh... isn't the most attentive person. And Naruto, let's just say he kept his in a ramen cup. The idiot didn't know to change the water."
Naruto may not be alone. Here, your brother intentionally keeps quiet, pretending to focus on his job. Here, you raise an eyebrow, and tease, "Actually...-" before your brother snaps his head and glares at you to shut up.
When the swordtail is situated in its new environment, Sakura follows the swimming critter with smiling eyes, as she takes a bite of rice. Your brother sits closely by your side and enjoys the meal as well, his mood lightened.
You do not eat, only stare at the water gleam at every ripple, the swirling orange tail luminescent. Yet, you see drops of blood, red webs threading thin.
You could have said something last night. You could have commanded him to stop. But for your brother's inner peace and satisfaction, for the tranquility of the next morning, you let them all die.
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