:: :: ::

The Hokage has given mercy. A probation is not a criminal charge. It's a temporary suspension, nothing more than a vacation.

That knowledge does not lighten the heaviness in your heart. It does not return the taste in your mouth, the hours at night. Nor does it ease your worry whenever you have bad premonitions like this. You were in ANBU before, and understand probation is not made for traitorous shinobi, but breaking ones. It can be the most clear indicator of failing mental health, and you are not certain forcing Sasuke to your side is the best resolve.

But your brother is pleased. He does not care for arrest nor the Aburame bugs on the ceiling, as long as he can be with you without the interruption of other concerns. The apartment is quiet, as he leans against your arm and reads a scroll. You stitch the symbol of the Uchiha on another shirt, because your brother goes through clothes rapidly, tending to burn or tear the fabrics. But he threw away his last set with neither burns nor tears. They stained, he told you, and you didn't question.

"Nii-san," he calls your attention, and you turn your head. "Do you think Naruto is contagious?"

"Why do you ask?"

He scoffs, showing you the scroll. "Because I caught his stupidity. I believe I wasted about three hours reading this crap, then realized... I probably should have just asked you."

There is something in his tone of voice that is nostalgic, that makes your heart stop for a moment as you settle down your needle. You reach for his scroll, and recognize the material.

"Genjutsu..."

"Written by some amateur author who never performed it in his life. It's almost insulting that I'd be reading this, considering the world has unanimously agreed that you are the most skilled genjutsu expert in existence, and... I think I got that shuriken down..." You are taken aback when he ends hanging and averts his gaze. Your brother does not talk in such a manner; he does not let his intonation waver, nor leave his sentences open to doubt. Or rather... he hasn't in a long, long time.

"Uchiha Sasuke," you say, keeping the corner of your lip from quivering upwards, "after all these years, are you still coaxing me to train you?"

He retorts too defensively, "It's not as if you have anything significant to do."

You hold up your stitchwork in response, then after absorbing his reaction, laugh and settle it down. "It wouldn't matter if I did," you tell him with a smile. "Where do you need help in?"

You have not seen that delight in his eyes in ages, not after that last broken shuriken promise. And because of it, you have always thought that you lost your last chance. It seems you thought wrong.

Your brother has always been a fast learner, beyond the gift of his eyes. He picks things up quickly, is innovative, to the point you cannot decide whether to challenge him to his limit, or stall and savor the moment while you can. But either way, you need only explain once and point in a direction, and he will follow.

"... efficient to conceptualize in spherical dimensions instead of cartesian. When the Sharingan memorizes an object, it does not fill a silhouette, but go towards the center of mass, then expand outwards. Project this image in this same spatial process, but reversed, to get a depiction of volume and mass. Visual details, the Sharingan will automatically record and imprint as a temporal eidetic, so focus on the other senses."

Your brother keeps his eyes closed, before he reopens them and stares at the apple resting on your lap. You watch him repeat the process several times, examining the spin of his eyes, taking note of its direction and speed. His eyes are healthy.

He frowns. "I can't tell if it's working."

"Then cast it upon me, and we'll see," you say, and his eyes dart up to you.

"Are you sure, nii-san?"

You smile. "Don't worry."

He glances down at the apple one last time before he concedes. You stare into the swirl of his Sharingan, and feel the flow of chakra in your mind change, the atmosphere break away and be replaced by chirping. Sun beats down, and you look at the shuffling trees above, lift your arms and feel the breeze. A snake slither pasts your foot, and you follow it into a clearing.

Of all the places to recreate, your brother has chosen this one, a training field with eight hidden targets. In your hands are only four kunai. The four others, you soon understand, are shooting down at an accelerating speed. You do not question Sasuke's intent, only does as he wants. Nine clicks later, there are seven respective thuds and a crack, the last kunai having flown past your brother's ear.

He rests on top of the old boulder.

"That was good, Sasuke," you say. "You read my intents well, but..." You point towards the last target behind him. "That one is not a board, is it?"

He smirks, and nods for you to see for yourself. Instead of a target board behind the boulder, there is a smashed apple is nailed to the ground by a kunai.

"I didn't miss," you say. "I thought I would have."

"Are you doubting yourself nii-san?" he growls, flickering to your side. "Of course you didn't miss. Everything went perfectly."

"It's a shame I aimed to miss then."

When he is speechless, you place a hand on his shoulder. "Do not fall back on expectations, or else your illusion will be seen through." With that, you leave to survey his work, and admit he has grown. The last fight, your brother could bend genjutsu cast his way, but was limited in creating his own, and relied on snakes as a focal point to ground his illusions.

Now, his world has become more independent and vivid, the sky with moving clouds, speckled shades across the target boards, grass damp and fresh. Some details need refinement, but he has capture the essence of the place. And Sasuke knows you like it, find it beautiful. He knows you have kept this place precious in your memories, but never brought it up because it was destroyed during the Akatsuki invasion.

It makes you wonder if he planned this, that he practiced endlessly on his own, and now used training as an excuse to show you his results. Either way, he has succeeded. Some sentiment is sinking into you, and you don't want to leave, but sit by his side and enjoy the peace.

The apple reconstructs itself. When the snake brings it to you, you twirl it by the stem and smile. "The texture is excellent. A little too symmetric, but not bad."

Before your brother can say anything, you take a bite.

He winces. "Don't-"

With some difficulty, you swallow it down. "More like a tomato than an apple." You keep your criticism gentle. "Maybe a little sweeter next time."

"You weren't supposed to eat it!"

"It looked tempting," you chuckle, and hand him the apple. "And taste is as important as touch. You must command all senses here, not just ones that suit you."

He looks away in irritation, and takes a violent bite. "What if I don't like it sweet."

"Maybe I do."

He scoffs. But at the same time, he has made the apple sweeter and delicious for your tongue. You know this because you can taste it on his lips, from when he has decided to pull you into his arms and kiss you.

Your eyes widen.

You have caught your mistake too late.

:: :: ::