Kintsukuroi
by TwinEnigma
Warnings/Codes: Post-series AU, canon divergence, Not The Last Compliant, Sasuke has PTSD, Karin has PTSD, Coping, Team as Family, Sasuke and Karin understand each other (and you can fight me, Helen), Friendship, Hopeful Ending, Sasukarin if you squint
There is blood on the tatami. The moon is full and bright and there is blood, there is his mother and his father and the man in the orange mask (Obito, his name is Obito, he is Obito) behind Itachi.
Sasuke launches forward, screaming and kicking, but he is too small and too young and he…
He is in his room, chest heaving as his eyes dart left and right, sword in hand and chakra blistering at combat level. The blood is nowhere to be seen. The setting moon reveals nothing out of place in the small inn-turned-holding cellblock.
Obito is not here.
Itachi is not here.
He swallows hard, his throat and nerves raw, and wants to believe it, but he can't. It's so hard to focus, to remember that it was just a flashback, and that they are not here when his heart is thundering in his veins, drowning out reason with fear.
There is a sound outside the door and he jerks, his head snapping towards the noise.
"It's me," Karin calls from the other side.
Sasuke grunts and sheathes the blade. He ignores the shaking in his hands, in his body: it is adrenaline, that's all, and it will pass in time, as it always does when the flashbacks hit. Instead, he heads to the open courtyard door and steps out onto the porch.
The door slides open, softly clacking against the frame, and Karin enters, quietly moving to join him.
They sit on the porch, looking out onto the courtyard with its koi pond and trimmed trees. It is a custom of theirs to sit like this when they can't sleep, one from days that now seem so long past when, in fact, it hasn't been that long at all in the grand scheme of things.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asks, after a long silence.
She frowns, shaking her head in the negative. "You?"
He shakes his head, too.
Again, the silence reigns, filling the space.
"I was back there," Karin pipes up. She doesn't look at him and she doesn't explain. They both know exactly what she means, anyway.
He had just come from the massacre, still as fresh and raw as ever, while she had come from another, no less fresh, no less painful.
"I couldn't get out," she adds, leaning forward. She pauses, rocks back then and, once more leans forward, then back. Then, finally, she continues, "I couldn't do anything. I couldn't stop it. I was just there. I was just there."
Sasuke nods. He knows that feeling all too well.
"Why are we still here?" Karin asks, suddenly. "We should leave."
Sasuke looks up at the sky, at the spindly clouds and faint glow of the approaching dawn, and then blinks, lowering his gaze.
He knows what she means: why are we still here, in Konoha, after all they've done to you?
"Naruto," he answers. "He made me an offer."
Karin looks at him then, raising an eyebrow.
"It's a council position. If I stay, I have a chance to try and fix things," he explains, waving a hand. "But I have to stay to do it. If I leave, I can't have a say in the council. And Naruto insists I should – have my say."
Karin blinks and slowly turns her head to look away. "Do you think it'll help?"
"I don't know," Sasuke admits, raising his head. "There's so much that's broken. And it's never going to be the same. But…"
He pauses, watching as a flock of birds cross the lightening sky, and closes his eyes with a heavy sigh. "I'm tired, Karin. I'm so tired. I don't want to feel like this anymore."
The truth is that he's exhausted. He's tired of running. He's tired of the flashbacks and sleepless nights. He's tired of jumping at shadows.
"I know," she says.
She really does, too.
They sit in silence next to each other for a while. There's nothing but the sound of birdsong and the distant sleepy rumble of a village not yet awake and Sasuke lets his mind drift in the safety of that quiet lassitude. He thinks about the broken pieces, the jagged and torn edges of where his family once was, and so many other things revealed to be crumbling and rotted. He thinks about everything he's learned.
It aches and, where it does not ache, it is numb with pain that he has taught himself to be blind to, if only so he can still function in some way. Being here again, back in Konoha, only makes it worse.
He wants to go.
He should go, realistically. There isn't anything for him here but bad memories and pain. And, besides, all his sentence requires him to do is stay within the borders of Fire Country. It says nothing about staying in Konoha.
And yet, for the first time, he has a chance to change things in a way that's real, that actually matters and feels useful. For the first time, he gets a voice and it's in the one place it matters most, the place where it can do the most good.
All he has to do is stay.
"It's not going to be easy," Karin states, breaking the silence at last as she looks skyward.
"No, it's not," Sasuke agrees.
She pauses, getting to her feet. "We'll stay, as long as you need us to."
He nods, smiling a little in gratitude.
It is not going to be easy. It's going to hurt and it'll never be the same as it was.
But maybe that's the idea.
Things can't stay the same. Konoha can't be allowed to make the kinds of mistakes it has ever again. There can't be another Itachi or another Danzo or an Uchiha massacre. Someone has to make sure the circumstances that caused all this death and madness aren't forgotten or swept under the tatami. If that means staying, if that means giving the wronged dead their voice back, and creating a future he can live with, then maybe he can work through the pain, instead of ignoring it. Maybe he can draw strength from the ache that never leaves him, instead of suffering in distant silence.
"Do you think it'll get better?" Karin asks, pausing at the door. Her fingers curl around the doorframe and she chews her lip pensively.
He doesn't know if she's referring to the pain or to Konoha itself, but his answer is the same, regardless: "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"
"I guess so," she agrees.
It won't be the same. But, maybe, it can be better.
Notes:
So, this is part of the new material I'm doing to flesh out some of the gaps in the In Memoriam Verse. One of the things this one does is go into why Sasuke chooses to stick around.
It's not something he does lightly and it's tied up very thoroughly in his trauma and his attempts to deal with the very blatant case of PTSD he has. These concepts can't be divorced from each other.
One of the other things going on in the background is that this is a very different universe: the past, the mistakes and tragedies that built up to the Third Great Ninja War are not overlooked or swept away. It's openly acknowledged that if there is to be a change, then it can't be glossed over with a "hey, well that was the past, let's all just move along lol" and giving Sasuke his say is not just a step in that progress, but it's also giving him a chance to directly deal with parts of his trauma in a constructive way that doesn't isolate him from other people or his existing support systems (in team Taka).
I'm not sure if I'll add more to this one directly or if it'll be more installments in the greater series, but for now this is what it is. We'll see, lol.