A/N: In the interest of full disclosure, I don't consider myself a fic writer; in fact, I've never put serious effort into writing and I've never published anything I've written. Hopefully, that doesn't make itself too painfully obvious in this work.
Other than trying my hand at writing something of (debatable) substance, I want to play around with how I think characters would think and act if Naruto wasn't marketed toward younger fans, and if the series had gone a bit differently; basically, here's how I think characters would realistically act toward Sasuke after coming back to the village after the confrontation in the Valley at the end. Welcome to the Angst and Sad and Sad Angst Show. I'm taking the most creative liberties, and no one can stop me.
Thanks for coming along with me on this adventure!
He had the thought that, even after everything he'd been through in his relatively short life, love would be his demise. It was, perhaps, too dramatic a realization for four in the morning, but it had less to do with his flair for the melancholy and more to do with the fact that if it weren't for love (or at least an alarmingly persistent fondness), he could still be at home.
Then again, without that same fondness, he and everyone else would be dead. That wasn't the point, though.
The point was that it was all Naruto's fault. It was always Naruto's fault.
The third training ground was empty- because no reasonable person was awake- save for a single figure at the far end, bobbing up and down as they stretched. Sasuke paused, hovering in the tree line, as he watched his best friend (though, until at least six o'clock, it might be more accurate to refer to Naruto as his mortal enemy yet again) bend and sway as he moved through advanced kata.
Sparring with Naruto was now part of his weekly routine, almost like he'd never left Konoha. This was how they would have grown up if… Sasuke was content to leave it at "if." Nostalgia and a somber sort of longing, or regret, or more of his ever-present guilt colored the training ground: the scene of their first defeat and then victory together as Team 7.
When Naruto had finally dragged him back to the village, he'd been tossed in prison and placed under guard. It was an unnecessary show largely because nothing could have kept Sasuke there if he didn't want to stay; Naruto was the only nin capable of bringing him to heel, and even the newly elected Rokudaime didn't find it easy despite having an arm more than Sasuke did. Still, it had given the people of the Hidden Leaf some small measure of peace about his being there before his official trial. In the end, he'd been granted a pardon and let out of prison, but there had been stipulations— the least of which were constant surveillance by Anbu, a charka-dampening bracer, and a seal that would detonate if he left the village.
He considered his shackled wrist absently, still hidden in the trees and contemplating. Sasuke allowed himself to take it in for just one more moment, committing feelings and panorama to memory in a pale imitation of the Sharingan. Then, he uncloaked himself.
Naruto, immediately aware of Sasuke's presence, looked up toward his perch and smiled. "You made it!" He crowed at a volume nearly sacrilegious given the hour.
Sasuke couldn't help the quirk of his lips as he alighted on the ground. "It's too early to be awake, dobe." Neither one of them mentioned that Sasuke's insomnia had him wandering distantly familiar streets at all hours of the night. He wouldn't have been asleep anyway.
Naruto laughed and rolled his eyes. "Some of us have things to do during the day, teme." It was almost alarming how easily they'd fallen back into an easy camaraderie; it was like Naruto- unlike everyone else- had never kept a tally of Sasuke's sins. They'd never mattered to him.
"Whose fault is that? You're the twelve-year-old that talked a big game. You jinxed yourself into the Hokage's chair."
Naruto's laugh was brighter than the watery rays of light finally breaking the horizon. They said nothing else after it faded. Their weekly conversations were conducted mostly in the solid thunk of kunai into wooden dummies and the gasping pop of dispelled clones— at least until that changed to panting as they laid out exhausted in the middle of the training field.
"Speaking of things to do later," Naruto continued breathlessly, and Sasuke had no trouble keeping up. They operated like that, too, in one single conversation that picked up wherever it last left off. "I have a proposition for you."
Sasuke arched a sharp, black brow. "Hn." He was listening, but not exactly keenly.
Naruto sucked in a few more heavy gasps, before pushing up to his elbows. Sasuke stayed on the ground, tilting his head back so he could see his friend better.
"You're tired of being cooped up in the village, right?" Naruto didn't wait for an answer, not that one was forthcoming. Sasuke was going stir crazy and they both knew it; why else would he have agreed to weekly pre-dawn training?
Naruto pressed on. "How would you feel about wearing a mask?"
Sasuke considered it for a moment, before clarifying: "You're asking me to be Anbu." It wasn't a question.
Naruto nodded. "You've got the skill set. Besides, everyone knows you won't listen to anyone but me." He huffed out a laugh. "Sometimes."
Sasuke snorted, but he didn't deny it. He was still figuring out how to be himself again. He was still wrestling with the path he'd chosen all those years ago. He was still learning to love Konoha, to honor his brother's wishes. Just because he was looking for some sort of redemption didn't mean he wanted a tokujō telling him what to do.
He stayed quiet, face expressionless as he considered the idea. Naruto pushed to his feet, having already caught his second wind thanks to that kyūbi no kitsune chakra. He knew the idea had merit. He didn't need to browbeat his friend— not anymore, anyway.
"Just think about it, yeah? Same time next week!" Then he was gone, not quite the Yellow Flash but right on his heels.
Sasuke didn't bother waving.
Three days later, he thumped softly onto an open window sill high up in the Hokage's Tower. The sound was a courtesy to the Hokage and his invisible guard; Sasuke didn't want to be accused of an assassination attempt. Naruto looked up from his paperwork, a grin already smeared across his face.
"I knew you'd be into it!"
Sasuke's answering look wasn't particularly impressed, but it never was. Still, there was a part of him that marveled at Naruto's continuing faith in him because Sasuke wasn't sure he was making the right choice. He'd been wrestling with Naruto's suggestion for a while.
"Come, sit." Naruto waved a hand toward the chairs facing his desk, and all at once Sasuke was struck bemused; the idiot really did it. He'd become Hokage and a respected one at that. Sasuke would have bet against it, but there were a lot of things about his life now that he'd never imagined would be reality. He slid from the window into the office.
"There's, like, a thing or two I need you to sign…" Naruto trailed off, mumbling to himself as he dug through haphazard stacks of paperwork threatening to topple to the floor. Sasuke worked his way around the desk, picking the seat furthest from the Hokage's desk just to be contrary. Naruto shot him a copy-cat stare, equally as unimpressed as the one Sasuke had given him. It was all Sasuke could do not to shrug and smirk. Some things never changed.
Naruto kept chattering, keeping a friendly air in the office. Sasuke didn't pay much attention, if only because the Hokage was talking so fast that he wouldn't get a word in anyway. Instead, his thoughts turned once again inward.
It was no secret that Uchiha and the Anbu had a rough history. Clashes between the clan-dominated Konoha Military Police Force and the elite ops had been fairly frequent; he could still remember his father bitching at the dinner table about their lack of jurisdiction over the Anbu. There was also the lingering bitterness of losing his entire clan on Anbu orders, more or less.
On the other hand, maybe the opportunity would bring him closer to his niisan. After all, he'd chosen this path for himself. The truth about Itachi's life- how he'd sacrificed everything not only for Sasuke but for a village he'd never stopped believing in- had left a hole in Sasuke's chest. That hole now housed a tangled knot of anger, guilt, and perfidy. Maybe if he walked the same footsteps, he wouldn't feel so choked by the past.
He'd never once thought about joining Anbu, though, at least not until Naruto had brought it up. He hadn't thought about anything since returning to Konoha— especially anything that had to do with moving forward. Maybe doing something for the people he'd hurt, even for just a little bit, would be a good change of pace. They didn't have to trust him, or even forgive him, but it might help him find some measure of peace.
He broke his silence. "Could I quit?"
Naruto looked up from his increasingly frantic search, and lifted a single eyebrow. "Quit what? Being Anbu?"
Sasuke nodded, not bothering to elaborate. Naruto, somehow still used to that despite months and years apart, inferred what he needed to know from the growing silence. "I'll let you quit if you hate it, but you have to give it two years."
The silence soured.
"Fine," Naruto sighed, throwing his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair. "A year, then. I already know you'll end up liking it, but you can't get there if you don't give it a chance!"
Sasuke sighed, knowing well when to pick his battles with Naruto. This wasn't one he'd win, even if he had the energy to fight it. "Alright."
Naruto's grin returned, nearly blinding. "Besides, you want to do this. Otherwise, you wouldn't have shown up!" He was right, but that didn't mean he had to say it out loud, or be so damn smug about it.
Sasuke's scowl deepened.
Any reply he was working up to, though, was cut off as the office door slid open and a hint of cigarette smoke twisted through the air. Naruto looked up, momentarily distracted from their bickering. "Oh, Shikamaru."
Sasuke shifted just a little deeper in his seat, his expression shifting to blank. Naruto might have never lost faith in him, but the jury was still out for everyone else. The smell of smoke deepened until Sasuke knew Nara was standing just behind his shoulder. That, and he could feel a familiar calculating glare between his shoulder blades.
If Naruto noticed the ripening tension in the room, he didn't show it. "I can't find…" He ducked under the desk, and the other men in the room waited as the sound of frantically shuffling papers filled the room. "I'm looking for the Shinobi Reassignment Form," he announced, popping back up.
Shikamaru moved toward the desk; the ashy smell collecting behind Sasuke's shoulder dissipated. "Form 27B?" His voice was deeper than Sasuke remembered. Naruto nodded. Shikamaru shifted, stroking his chin in contemplation. Sasuke resisted rolling his eyes.
If Naruto were only half as organized as he was competent, Sasuke would've already been on his way. But he wasn't, so Sasuke was stuck waiting.
Shikamaru tipped his head to the side, considered the Hokage's desk with keen eyes, and then bent down to one of the lower drawers before reappearing with the form.
"You're a lifesaver," Naruto breathed, grabbing the sheet from his aide.
Shikamaru nodded, half a smile on his face. "I know. That's why you hired me— for my impressive resume: genius," he ticked off his fingers, "and lifesaver."
Sasuke repressed another eye roll and waited as Naruto read over the paper, signed it with his messy scrawl, and slid it across the desk toward his best friend. "Okay, teme, sign here, and I'll take care of the rest."
After the barest hint of hesitation, Sasuke added his signature without flourish and passed the form back. Naruto's grin widened, and he handed Shikamaru the paper to file away while ignoring his scowl of disapproval. "You're basically officially Anbu." He clapped his hands together, delighted that his idea was proceeding as planned. "Wanna go out to celebrate? Dinner's on me!"
He knew accepting the invitation meant they'd end up sitting at the counter at Ichiraku, but somehow he couldn't find a "no" inside of him.
One bowl of ramen turned into two, turned into drinks, turned into the two of them stumbling (or rather, Naruto stumbling and Sasuke dutifully holding him up as best he could with one arm) down the slowly emptying streets of Konoha. Sasuke was strangely relieved that he couldn't see fear or disgust on anyone's face if they did happen to look over. They trusted him if only because they trusted their Hokage. It had to be some sort of irony that Sasuke was on the outside and Naruto was on the inside, so different from how it'd been when they were kids.
But no, that was his own fault, wasn't it? He'd done this, and… he still wasn't sure if he'd been entirely wrong. At least, not in all of it; regardless of circumstance, Konoha had opted to destroy an entire clan. Surely that was justification in part.
Naruto, arm slung across his friend's shoulder, was unaware of the dark slant in Sasuke's thoughts. His head lolled and that stupid, nearly permanent grin split his face. "'S'was a good idea, huh, Sasuke-kun?" The term of endearment rolled off his tongue so easily that Sasuke's step stuttered and Naruto tilted dangerously toward the ground.
"Watch it!" Naruto whined. It was enough to get Sasuke walking again, but it didn't ease his troubled thoughts.
Truthfully, his mind hadn't been a peaceful place since that first thread had been pulled and his life unraveled around him. Every frayed impulse he'd ever given into had circled back to the cries of his long-dead clanmates, and their blood he still saw spattered around the village. When he was younger, he'd thought that finding his revenge would help him put the tired story to rest. He'd hoped he could find some peace.
He'd been a fool. He still was a fool.
He couldn't seem to bury that unrest that twisted around and around in his head, tangling with every shameful decision he'd made throughout his life, gnawing at him until he was frustrated and unsure if he even deserved the moment he was living in. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to, or if he'd ever deserve—
"Ne, Sasuke, what's with that stupid look on your face?" Naruto's breath puffed against Sasuke's cheek, warm and damp. "Do girls really find all that scowling attractive? Especially combined with that duck-ass hair?" He clumsily reached up to ruffle Sasuke's hair, and there was nothing Sasuke could do but let him, scowling deeper.
"Do that again, and I'm dropping your dumb ass and walking home by myself. You can call Hinata or Nara to come get you."
Naruto laughed and settled back against Sasuke's shoulder. "Glad you're back," he replied, and that was the last thing they said as they passed under yellow street lamps.
Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning when the moon was still hanging in the sky and most of the village's districts were quiet, Sasuke would try to pinpoint his guard-detail. Anbu operatives were experts at masking their presence, but he'd spent years of his life as a tracker of sorts.
(Itachi, to his credit, had made Sasuke's inevitable revenge as slow in coming as he possibly could. He'd evaded Sasuke at every possible turn until… Until.)
Nowadays, there wasn't much else to do besides practice and keep his skills sharp. He wouldn't want to further disgrace the Uchiha name by embarrassing himself in the field.
Most of the time, his tracking exercise was met with failure. He'd squint up into a treeline or a recessed window sill and swear he could just make out the shape of a porcelain-masked watcher. He was never completely confident in his assessments, but he never really tried very hard, either.
Now, he wanted to.
Sasuke made his way to Konoha's yūkaku. It was active late into the night, with yūjo flirting at passersby from behind their painted fans. Men and women alike- the majority shinobi- drifted between toruko-buro and pink salons with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, eager to drown themselves in pleasure and affection. It didn't matter that in the morning they would return to the harsh realities of a post-war nation. Tonight, they would enjoy themselves. Sasuke wondered how many of the shinobi assigned to watch him from the shadows made regular visits to the district. Anbu, as far as he knew, were supposed to forsake human emotions, weren't they?
He chose a spot against a quieter building, a tea house for the lonely who wanted conversation, too. The sound of someone plucking softly at a sangen drifted through the open windows, and the smell of jasmine hung like a shroud around the café. It was almost relaxing, and all at once, the long day caught up with him. His chakra dampener felt heavy and warm around his wrist. The deadly seal between his shoulders itched. He couldn't sleep, but he really needed to.
Sasuke took another moment to collect himself, before focusing on the little chakra reserves he had available. He didn't have enough to activate his Sharingan, but he'd long since learned never to rely solely on his dōjutsu for anything. Eyes could be stolen, but inherent skills were irreplaceable.
Breathing deep, Sasuke centered himself. He shrugged everything else off, focusing on the flow of chakra around him. Konohagakure was a living network of glowing threads. As Sasuke concentrated, colors bloomed behind his eyelids. Shimmery blossoms moved back and forth, splashes of green, pink, purple, blue. Even the civilians had their own faint auras, manifestations of their lifeforce. As the energy moved and wavered, it bounced off of buildings and streetlights, painting an inverse picture of the district in Sasuke's mind.
The longer Sasuke held his focus, the wider the picture became. Trees in the distance fulgurated, winking in and out as he pushed for more clarity; silhouettes of apartment towers in the district over manifested against the starless sky in Sasuke's imagination. Minutes crawled by until he was able to pinpoint two blank spaces in the tableau, roughly human-shaped. They flanked him to the right and the left, and if he were to guess, there was probably one more guard somewhere behind him to make a rough triangle. After another moment, the figure to the left stood from its crouch and offered a small, mocking wave. Scowling, Sasuke opened his eyes, and the watercolor panorama dissipated. Apparently, at least one of the Anbu had guessed at what he was doing. The last thing he needed was some paranoid counselor down his throat, looking for a nefarious plot that wasn't there.
With a sigh, Sasuke pushed himself from the wall and started toward his apartment. It'd been decided after his trial that Sasuke wasn't allowed back into the Uchiha compound— at least until he submitted to a lengthy round of psychological evaluations. Naruto had argued that neither Uchiha Madara nor Uchiha Obito was still skulking around, and even if they were, Sasuke had proven that his clan's Curse of Hatred had been broken; he wasn't at risk of snapping. But with half their village in a crater and too many loved ones dead, no one else was willing to place that same unshakable trust in Sasuke. Naruto was outnumbered, so he'd backed down. Sasuke wasn't willing to undergo therapy.
"At least it's got a television!" was the only consolation he'd been given beyond a too-enthusiastic slap on the back. Sasuke had yet to turn it on.
As he drew near the featureless flats, the village began waking up. Smoke drifted through the air from restaurants and homes, as people prepared for breakfast. Lamps winked out as the sun warmed the horizon, inky black giving way to a yawning pink. He'd passed through another night without a nightmare, though exhaustion wasn't long behind the feat. It was a vicious cycle of his own creation, but he wasn't ready to face the aftermath of his transgressions just yet. He was still struggling with the rolling waves of distrust and animosity that poured from the general public whenever his name was mentioned. He wasn't ready to listen to the wails of every life snuffed out by his own hand, through his machinations. Their ghosts already teased the edges of his vision when he wasn't paying attention.
Maybe tomorrow, he kept telling himself, but then he'd let another day bleed into itself. He was a mess on all fronts, but he thought he was doing a good enough job keeping himself together.
His steps slowed as he approached his front door. He'd left it unlocked; few would dare break in, and if they did… it was a fight Sasuke would be more than happy to oblige. As he grabbed the doorknob, he closed his eyes and focused one more time. A different facet of the village swam around him, with the same two blank spaces. They'd oriented themselves around him, but the third guard he was sure existed was still nowhere to be seen.
With a shrug, Sasuke pushed the door open.
The air in his apartment was sterile, the scent of fresh paint still hanging around. The flat was brand new, and the all-white interior was spotless. The space was completely undisturbed because he barely lived in it. The carpet in his bedroom didn't have a single stain on it, and the white marble in the kitchen was equally spotless. Dust motes didn't dance in the warming morning air.
But something was amiss.
He thought for a moment about going back outside and sending a message to Naruto. That thought turned into him imagining Nara getting the message instead, and he quickly decided to just handle things himself. Even with dampeners, Sasuke was confident the situation would prove to be nothing more than a minor annoyance.
Carefully, he padded toward the kitchen and pulled up short.
Hatake Kakashi stood with a hip against the stove, whistling off-key as he fried an egg that Sasuke knew hadn't come from his empty fridge. He was dressed in grey and black, and a fox mask was pushed into his hair. Several kunai glinted dangerously in the holster at his thigh.
Sasuke lingered in the hallway, wary. The last time he'd truly spoken to Kakashi as a comrade, he'd been tied to a tree while a man he barely respected had tried to impress upon him the importance of not letting one's past consume them. It was advice that Sasuke had thoroughly ignored, both because he thought he knew better and felt that Kakashi wasn't old enough to be teaching anyone anything. Their already-strained relationship had dissolved into a series of bloody fights and biting repertoire, and even after being returned to Konoha, Sasuke hadn't sought him out.
Now, he was here in Sasuke's kitchen. He was whistling, but the hair on the back of Sasuke's neck prickled with something familiar and almost-deadly. When Kakashi turned around, though, the shape of a smile dented his mask.
"Maa, Uchiha-san," he drawled as he plated the egg on the equally unused dining table. "I let myself in. I hope you don't mind." The way he said it made it clear that, actually, he didn't care either way. Rather, he took a seat and wordlessly waited for Sasuke to join him, brow quirked in challenge.
Sasuke stood wordlessly in the hallway for another long moment, trying to figure out exactly what in the hell was going on. His expression (hopefully) betrayed nothing, but his mind worked as quickly as it could in his exhaustion. Part of him thought, perhaps, Kakashi was looking for something like reconciliation; Naruto had. Maybe he'd been waiting for Sasuke to approach him with an overdue apology. Kakashi knew him at least a little better than that, though. No, it had to be something typically unfathomable, and Sasuke would never know what until he sat down and listened.
He hated being cornered.
He carefully took the seat opposite Kakashi and waited. Despite the food in front of him, Kakashi didn't eat. Instead, he assessed Sasuke with an intensity that bordered on animosity. Sasuke didn't blink. Instead, he lifted his own brow to match the challenge. Finally, Kakashi leaned back in his chair.
"We've never been close, have we, Sasuke-kun?" The affectionate honorific had an unpleasant edge, almost mocking. Sasuke didn't bother answering; Kakashi knew the answer.
A memory lingered at the edge of Sasuke's mind, a confrontation that had happened little more than a year ago:
Jagged tree trunks ringed the clearing around them. Smoke curled up from the smoldering grass like incense. The air was charged with static and the tang of ozone, almost like copper and lavender mingled. The sky overhead sparked, lighting up the turbulent, roiling clouds as if they were feeding off of the anger below. It illuminated the ground in brief flashes, though the flickering darkness was nothing to the three Sharingan below as they swirled in lazy, calculating whorls.
"Look how carelessly you've hurt your friends, Uchiha no kimi." Kakashi's lazy drawl had a predatory edge to it, like a kitsune setting up its next trick. The honorific was mocking. Oh, how high and mighty the last surviving Uchiha thought he was, and yet it was his blood on the ground, too. Even princes were nothing but rotten, mortal flesh. "You're making me feel as if I failed you." Sasuke could see the way his lips twisted into a mournful frown against his ragged mask. He did love his drama.
Sasuke's smirk was sharp, pointed. He held his sword loosely at his side, tip angled down. They knew this confrontation wouldn't come down to bukijutsu; that had simply been foreplay. The sound of steel against steel, the flying sparks, and the ache in their arms had been the backdrop as they tested for each other's weaknesses. Now, high on adrenaline and sanguinity, they discarded their weapons and called upon the Lightning Release technique in tandem. The shriek of birds was deafening as twin Chidori rent the air.
Sasuke didn't bother raising his voice to be heard over the snapping lightning; Kakashi's (pathetic) Sharingan could read his lips. "You put too much pressure on yourself, sensei. I've only ever seen you as the Hokage's loyal lapdog, and a stain on the Uchiha legacy."
Kakashi moved first, prefaced by a crashing tsunami of killing intent. Sasuke tisked. Predictable.
It was too easy to rile his former comrades; they were too emotional, too conscious of their own flaws. It made them sloppy and vulnerable. Even the legendary copy-nin was no different, and what was why they could never understand him. He left because they had nothing for him. He'd long ago exceeded them, and now existed worlds apart.
Their continued confrontations were nothing but a distraction, a brief interlude before Sasuke finally realized his destiny and rewrote the world itself.
He tensed minutely as Kakashi swept toward him, Chidori screaming. Sasuke wondered idly in the closing milliseconds if Kakashi really thought he could kill him like he so desperately wanted to. He wondered if Kakashi showed this side of himself to Naruto or Sakura. He wondered if they knew that Friend-Killer Kakashi was alive and well. He was just carefully hidden until the secret, unwitnessed moments that Sasuke triggered his reawakening.
His focus shifted back to his opponent's rapid approach. He pushed himself forward, ready to meet Kakashi and strike first. But as soon as he was in motion, Kakashi pulled up short and flashed a sign, and then another. Belatedly, Sasuke read the hand signs for what they were, and before he could sidestep, a spear of lightning shot through him. It pierced him just above his clavicle, inches from his neck. Blood sizzled as the electricity nearly instantly cauterized the wound, and then came the pain. His own Chidori cracked and faded, leaving the clearing quieter and darker. He ground his teeth as he struggled to keep his vision from tunneling. Maybe Tobi was right, and he needed to take his brother's eyes.
No. He'd been through worse. This was nothing. He snarled, bared teeth pinked with his blood.
Thunder rumbled overhead like the roiling storm was a congregation of great beasts, primed for violence. Kakashi skipped back, the barest hint of a triumphant sneer already fading behind his mask. "That looks like it hurts." Rain broke the clouds, catching both of them in a sudden, torrential downpour.
The taunt was enough to launch Sasuke forward, pride stung and shoulder screaming. He moved through the hand signs for the Great Fireball Technique. His hands blurred and then he drew a single hand up to his mouth and exhaled. A massive conflagration billowed across the clearing, hot enough to evaporate the rain as it fell. Steam hissed as it bit into the inferno as it dissipated. A wave of exhaustion hit Sasuke as he realized how much chakra his eyes and his attack had drained from him. But they weren't finished.
Four shuriken silently tore through the smoke. Sasuke rolled out of the way, his vision whiting out as his wounded shoulder contacted the ground. The shuriken embedded into the trees behind him, clustered tightly. Staggering to his feet, Sasuke quickly threw a handful of senbon in return. He threw them wildly, but still heard a faint grunt through the thinning smoke. Trying to control his heaving breath, he called out.
"You'd better hurry, Hatake-san. Your teammates should be waking up soon. You don't want them to see you like this, do you? I wonder how Sakura would react to your bloodlust. Do you think she'd recommend you for evaluation?"
He could feel the fury pouring off of Kakashi in crackling waves, and felt a smug sense of satisfaction in return. He opened his mouth for another taunt, just as a Kakashi reached for more projectiles, but a shout rent their confrontation.
"Sasuke! Are you okay?!" A streak of red blurred past Sasuke as Karin took up a defensive position in front of him, kunai at the ready. Suigetsu strolled up beside her lazily. His sword was strapped to his back and his hands were stuffed into his pockets. Team Hebi had arrived.
A peal of thunder broke the last of the spell still holding Sasuke and Kakashi to their savagery. Kakashi, eyes narrowed, took a step back. Karin studied him for a moment before accepting the stalemate. Kakashi blurred, shunshining out of sight to collect Naruto's and Sakura's limp forms. A hand pressed into Sasuke's upper arm, and then he was flickered away, too.
The memory faded. Sasuke shifted slightly in his seat, focusing back on Kakashi still watching him. He wasn't sure which of them was the coiled snake, ready to strike. "No," he finally answered. "Not particularly."
Kakashi didn't seem bothered by Sasuke's drifting. Maybe Naruto had told him about it, how it was now just a part of who he was. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone knew, what with how the orange idiot ran his mouth. Sakura had already approached him about it and asked him if he wanted her to give him a scan. He'd managed to keep his tongue in cheek when he'd told her he was fine; he really didn't want to deal with her or her girlfriend's anger.
"That's what I tried to tell our esteemed Hokage." Kakashi sighed and leaned back in his chair. His expression was theatrically put-upon like he was still dealing with a rowdy handful of genins. "But you know how he is."
Sasuke wasn't quite following along. He was tired, and a headache was forming behind his eyes. An overdue hangover was finally catching up to him. "Sure," he finally offered, voice neutral. Kakashi knew him, though. He knew that Sasuke had no idea why he was there. He knew Sasuke had no idea what he was talking about. Sasuke knew that he knew, and that made the whole situation just a little more unbearable than he would have found it under normal circumstances.
The egg had stopped steaming, and the edge of the yolk was starting to darken and congeal. "Do you think Orochimaru lobotomized you somewhere between all those experiments?"
Sasuke looked up from the plate, anger flashing in his eyes. "What?"
"Exactly what I said. Do you think you're more stupid now than you were before you left the village? Because I can't recall the young Uchiha legacy being this slow." Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "Then again, my memory might be failing in my old age."
"Do you mind getting to the point, old man? I've had a long night, and I'd like to rest."
Quicker than his signature lightning, Kakashi leaned over the table and caught Sasuke's chin roughly. "I think the first habit I'll have to break is your mouth. Who taught you to be so disrespectful, Uchiha no kimi?"
Sasuke jerked back with a snarl. The address echoed from his memory. He'd heard it before; Kakashi wasn't the only person to call him a princeling. His attitude was well-known; it made itself apparent within the first moments of meeting him. But Kakashi seemed to take particular offense to it.
He stayed braced over the table, his one visible eye pinning Sasuke where he sat. "What the hell was that?" Sasuke snapped, wishing not for the first time that he had full access to his chakra stores. He sorely wanted a rematch all of the sudden.
"It seems that Hokage-sama was saving the surprise for later." Kakashi leaned in close, and as much as Sasuke wanted to stand and put some distance between them, he didn't let himself move a muscle. Kakashi let a pause build, tense and crackling with static. "It seems that you've been thrust into my care yet again."
Kakashi moved suddenly, pulling back and gliding over toward the open window he must have used to enter the apartment. There was a black duffel bag resting underneath the ledge. Sasuke wondered how he hadn't noticed it until Kakashi grabbed for it. It occurred to him latterly that Kakashi must have been the mysterious third member of his guard.
Another realization made itself at home in his sluggish head. "I suppose you're my new captain. Naruto must have thought I'd be more comfortable with someone I know." He snorted.
Kakashi didn't bother confirming it; it was obvious. Instead, he pulled a black and grey uniform from the bag and tossed it on the table. A porcelain mask joined it a second later. Sasuke's stomach dropped. Ancient memories threatened to surface, faded and sepia at the edges.
Don't cry, Sasuke. Your big brother is here to protect you, no matter what happens.
To test the limits of my ability.
The village does have its dark side and its inconsistencies, but I'm still Konoha's Itachi Uchiha.
"Is this some sort of joke, Hatake?"
"Hatake-taichō." His voice was silky, like he was inviting Sasuke to challenge him again. "And no. I don't get to select my subordinates' masks. The commander makes those decisions, and generally, they're randomly assigned. Bad luck, huh?"
Sasuke didn't reply. He was focused on the mask. It stared back up at him, and he couldn't decide if it was threatening, mocking, or if he was finally going insane.
When he looked back up, Kakashi was already halfway out of the window. "Please try your best not to be late to our first squad meeting. I'm sure we can't have a worse opinion of you, but at least try to be considerate, little prince."
Then, he was gone.
Sasuke left the mask and uniform where they laid. He closed the window and set the untouched egg in the sink. He'd deal with that later after he'd taken a short nap. There was a lot he could put off until he rested for a little while. His eyelids felt heavy. The last twenty-four hours had thrown a lot at him, though arguably, he deserved it. He deserved… well, a lot more. Still, all of it could wait.
Before he made his way to his cold bed, he made sure to lock the windows and door.
A/N: I know that most of y'all know what these words means, but I just want to make sure that this fic is as accessible as it can be!
Glossary
• kata: a system of individual training exercises for practitioners of karate and other martial arts
• dobe: Japanese slang word for "idiot" or "dead last"
• teme: Japanese word for "bastard"
• tokujō: short for "tokubetsu jōnin," or a jōnin with specialized knowledge rather than all-around skills
• yūkaku: legal red-light districts in Japanese history
• yūjo: a title referring to "common" sex workers, as opposed to high-ranking courtesans
• toruko-buro and pink salon: different types of businesses offering sexual favors (Feel free to Google the specifics yourself!)
• sangen: a three-stringed traditional Japanese musical instrument, also known as a shamisen
• dōjutsu: ninja abilities that utilize the eyes, and are generally imparted to the user through genetics
• bukijutsu: a ninja's use of weaponry in combat
• shunshin: the Japanese term for the Body Flicker Technique
