Oh man, Zel, thank you SO much for letting me rant my way through this chapter. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far! I love seeing everybody's theories and reactions! xoxo
He did not remember everything - he could not - only bits and pieces, fragments of a childhood, an adolescence, and just the briefest moments of what he might call his adulthood. These bits and pieces, fragments and moments, consisted almost entirely of the evocative response they had born within him. His mother's smile; he remembered it, because it made him happy. His father's voice; he remembered it, because it inspired both fear and pride in him. His brother's laughter; he remembered it, because it made him laugh, too.
These things, seemingly small and inconsequential, were connected to something much larger and almost incomprehensible. Why could he recall nearly every meal his mother had cooked? Because she smiled when he ate her food. Why could he recall nearly every word his father had spoken to him? Because those words were either a stern lashing or a glowing sentiment. Why could he recall nearly every joke his brother had quipped? Because Itachi's laughter could be heard throughout the entire village.
But, sometimes, somebody else would smile, somebody else would speak to him in such a way, somebody else would laugh and it would summon those memories again. The bits and pieces, the fragments and moments, in which he found these similarities renewed their clarity within him. They were not an instinct that had been beaten into his bones and sinew through years of training, not a response of action in a moment of danger. They were not a calculation of thoughts and words, not a deduction by his wit. So they did not exist in his body or his mind, but rather deeper, in a place so secret that he himself scarcely looked. It was the only place that could ensure their longevity, for everything that existed within his heart was a matter of permanence.
Whatever it was, it was. And whatever it was, it always would be, thriving in spite of and for him.
Regardless of what he did.
Regardless of how he fought it.
Regardless of who it was.
Blood.
"Is he. . .?"
Blood.
"I do not know, but we can not - ,"
Blood. On his hands, on his tunic, on his face. On the blade clutched in his shaking fingers. Somebody was yelling; a woman's voice and then a boy's. Now, a man's. They shouted over one another, drowning out any sensible words Sasuke might have heard in their frantic cacophony. Were they yelling at him? For him?
Sasuke raised his eyes -
"Do you know what they call people who stare at the moon?"
He tore his gaze away from the glow above them, casting it to the woman at his side. She smiled wide; a knowing grin that suggested she might be aware of whatever reverie she had just pulled him from. The mirth in her alighted orbs drew him closer, or perhaps it was that particularly chilling gust of wind. Regardless, she burrowed into his side with a shiver.
"What?" He prompted her, taking care to cinch the seams of her cloak in his fist where it opened at her chest. Sakura leaned forward to give him a grateful peck on the cheek.
"Lunatics," she whispered into his ear before tilting her head back to face him. He peered at her with a curious look, "It is derivative from the word lunar, or more specifically lunaticus."
The corners of his lips quirked into the beginnings of a smile.
"So it is mad of me to enjoy the sight of the moon?"
Sakura was quiet for a moment, contemplative as she considered not his question, but rather him instead.
"I think it is mad to suppose that finding beauty in nature is a thing to be reproached," she laid her head against his shoulder, placing a gloved hand over his that held her cloak, and stared longingly above them, "Don't you agree?"
"Would I be mad if I did?" She heard the mirth in his tone, but stifled her laughter.
"Entirely," she answered with mock severity. Her thumb stroked the back of his hand, just as he so often did when they were secluded in her private rooms, nearly at the brink of sleep, "What a pair we are."
"Mad," he agreed with a short tip of his chin.
"Depraved," she supplied with a shrug.
"Jealous," he teased.
"Greedy," she could not contain her gaiety then. Sasuke pressed his lips to the crown of her head and whispered,
"Ravenous."
Sakura was quiet for a moment, seemingly reticent to respond. Then, after a while, she spoke,
"Hopeless," her breath hitched on the word and her thumb stilled. She felt the pressure of his fingers as they came to rest against her cheek and, slowly, she turned to face him.
"Hopeless?"
"Aren't we?"
He faltered for the briefest of moments, a flash of determination to defy her dying as quick as it came. His mouth pulled into a sharp line and he exhaled forcefully, nostrils flaring. How much longer could he pretend that they had not already lost themselves so completely within one another? His body, his mind, his soul, his heart - his temper, his sorrow, his obstinance and shame - his fear, his courage, his lust, his lo -
He, all of him, belonged to her. But so long as he lived, so, too, would his denial. So, too, would his rage. So, too, would his hopelessness. So long as he lived, he could despise himself and his unquenchable desire for her, thus convincing himself that that, somehow, made it okay. He knew it was wrong, so it was okay that he held her like this and it was okay that he kissed her under the stars and it was okay that he shared her bed and it was okay that he wasted her time. It was okay that he did these things, over and over again, so long as he still knew it was wrong.
That fire he had begun stoking so many nights ago, cautious of its vitality, was now a pyre, burning away the effigy of who he was before he had met her. Of who he had been.
And who he might never be again.
She began to lower her gaze in defeat, but Sasuke caught her lips with his, entreating her fervid passion. Sakura pushed onto her toes, rising to his challenge and urging him to match the force with which she was exerting. His hand tangling in her hair that flowed freely was his response and she smiled against his mouth. Pausing for a breath, they rested their foreheads together, eyes nearly closed, but glancing unabashedly at one another.
"Aren't we?" She asked again, her words weakened by her own composure.
Stay.
Stay here.
"Entirely," he gave a subtle nod. Her small hand came up to cup his jaw, her thumb stroking the sharp line and his rough stubble, while her slight fingers played with the strands of hair at his neck.
"I do not think I have appropriately shown my gratitude to you," her voice came as a despondent whisper.
"For what?" He felt a tremor run through him the longer they remained connected and so he shut his eyes.
"For this," she whispered, her voice the only sensation in his darkened world, "For tonight, Sasuke-kun. For everything," she kissed him softly, slowly, tenderly, dragging out that moment between them for as long as she could, "For you."
"Sakura - ,"
"No," shaking her head, she pulled back slightly, "Look at me," he obeyed, opening his eyes to peer down at her, "Please, accept this gratitude - my gratitude - and know that if I could give you anything else," she broke off suddenly and shook her head.
"Like what?" His brows furrowed and she chewed her lip.
"Is there nothing you want from me?"
"What do you mean?" He was becoming more perplexed by the second.
"Nothing that I could give you - Something of value?" His silence caused her to pause and she heaved a heavy sigh, "You have asked me for nothing of monetary value - not jewels or property or even title - If you wanted to, you could ask me for these things; I would not be offended. I have wondered - not often, but sometimes - if you might not want something else from me, from this. Something more."
"Sakura, I," he was at a loss, her quiet words causing an unspeakable calamity within him.
"I have been asked for far greater tributes for much less than you have given me," she assured him, but that fact made her sentiment all the more devastating. He did not know how to explain it to her, could not translate his thoughts appropriately, so he cradled her cheeks in his hands and bent his head to kiss her fiercely. There was nothing in this world that he wanted from her that she had not already given him. Nothing, except the one thing she could not give him.
But everything else - her love, her wit, her humor, her time, her patience, her passion - was more than he had ever dreamed of. As he felt her arms tighten around him and her tongue skirt his, he thought, maybe, there was a way to tell her. To impart these feelings upon her.
And yet the words simply sat in his mouth, leaden and immobile.
"I do not need such things from you," he whispered against her lips, eyes closed, "Nor do I want them."
It was impossible enough to even begin to attempt to fathom the depth of his desire for her. That mad, depraved, jealous, greedy, ravenous, hopeless desire.
"Look at me," she commanded him again, but this time when he gazed at her, he could see the brilliance of her smile shining like a lantern in the night, "I wish that I did not have to entertain such thoughts. I wish that I did not harbor such insecurities. It is most unbecoming of a lady."
"Well, then it is a good thing that you are not a lady," the hint of a smirk played at the corners of his mouth and Sakura burst into laughter.
"If not a lady, then what do you see me as, Sasuke-kun?"
He pondered quietly for a moment, his eyes raising to the trees that surrounded him, to the sky that covered them, to the moon that shined above them.
"A lunatic," he said thoughtfully, returning his gaze to hers. Her smile widened and she nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I think that you are correct."
"What a pair we are."
"Hm," she burrowed into his side once more, "Hopeless."
Stay.
Stay here.
Stay with her.
Stay in this moment.
Stay -
"You should know that you owe me no gratitude," his voice was gruff as he reprimanded her lightly, but it was assuaged by the sure press of his lips against her hair.
"I must insist," she responded sternly.
"You may insist all you like," Sasuke smirked as she squirmed in his arms so that she could turn about to glare at him.
"You do infuriate me sometimes," she pouted and he dropped his eyes to narrow them at her.
"And I have never met anyone so vexing as you."
"My, Sasuke-kun, you certainly know how to compliment me," she smiled coyly, emerald orbs gleaming.
"I would not know how to compliment another," he countered, albeit through stiffened lips. Every night was a lesson in temperance; a balance of restraint and indulgence. He usually found himself to be lacking greatly in the former, but in the Emperor's absence there was also a perpetuity of opportunity. Whatever constraint that had been cast aside one night - whether it was so that he could kiss her just a little bit longer, or so that he could feel her lips flush against the base of him, or so that he could taste her until she was practically dripping from his chin - he was able to convince himself he could make up for it the next. Or the night after that. Or the one after that one.
Or -
"I would not know," her breath shuddered through her lips, but he was not sure if it was caused by the cold or by her nerves, "how to either," she ducked her head, averting his probing gaze as she whispered, "It feels different, does it not?"
"Different?"
"From anything - from anyone else. Almost as though we speak our own language," she laughed softly, "Sometimes we do not speak at all, but - but we still can understand each other. In many ways, I think. Don't you agree?"
"Hn," Sasuke smirked and turned his eyes back to the moon, "Yes. In many ways."
Her fingers curled around the sleeve of his uniform.
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
"You continue to ask me such a thing," he remained fixed on the glow above him, "Has there been a night since the first that I have left your side?"
"No," she was looking up at the sky then, too, "And I would not have it any other way, but I will continue to ask so long as the answer remains the same."
His heart stuttered in his chest. If only he could, he would tell her as many times as she wished to hear it, pledge to her as many things as she asked of him, and stay as many nights as she would have him.
"It has not changed," he assured her. Even without casting his eyes down, he knew his words had just brought that brilliant smile back to her face, "Have you had enough of the cold yet?"
No.
Stay.
Please.
"I suppose," she bowed her head and kissed the back of his hand that held her tightly. Together, they made their way out of the brush of trees and onto the path towards her rooms. The gardens were almost silent, but for the howling wind that tore across the palace grounds. Sakura clung to him as they braced against the frigid air, "Shall we sit by the fire for a while?"
"Will you tell me another story?" He asked.
"They are not stories," she replied staunchly, "They are empirical accounts of medical practices."
"Hn," he chuckled and peered down to meet her fierce gaze, "You tell them better than any story I have ever heard."
"I thank you for humoring me, then."
"You mistake my interest."
"Oh?" She quirked her brows, "Are you saying you have learned something from my lectures?"
"I remember some things," he said with a measure of defense.
"Oh, do you?" The tilt of her lips told him she was seeking to have fun at his expense. She was under no pretenses about the fact that her interests would bore even the most studious among them, as she had often mentioned to him in passing, but it was her enthusiasm during such lectures that had enthralled him. Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her and she tossed her head back with a laugh, "Whether you can take enjoyment in them or not, I should still share my appreciation to you for having allowed me to ramble so often and at such lengths."
"Hn," he nodded in understanding.
"I think tonight I would like to hear a story," she said, turning her eyes forward as they approached the doors to her quarters.
"I do not know many stories," he said rigidly and ushered her inside where the fire was still blazing. Despite the chill that had set into her bones, Sakura released him slowly, reluctantly, staying close to his side rather than rushing towards the fireplace.
"You could tell me a story about you," she suggested, loosening the ties of her near frozen cloak. Sasuke bowed his head as he stepped behind her to relieve her of the garment and he remained silent as he draped it over her chair beside the window. Sakura hesitated, wondering if she might have upset him, before stepping towards the fire. She kneeled at the hearth and flattened her palms out towards the flame, but craned her neck to follow Sasuke as he meandered around the room. Finally, she prompted him, "Any story."
He faced her then and approached her with some uncertainty. She beckoned him down and he came to sit beside her. Sakura reached for his hands, enclosing them as best she could between hers and kissed his fingers.
"Is that something that you would like to hear?" He did not bother to hide his skepticism from her; his life had been mired in pain and suffering, tragedy with little triumph - all of which had inexplicably connected him to her in nothing short of the most brutal and renitent ways possible. That barely tangible thread that wound so tightly around them, that connected them, was one of many ties; something so easily twisted, but nearly impossible to disentangle.
Sasuke shifted his position on the floor so that she might lean against him more comfortably and wrapped his arms around her. But even with her back flush to his chest, she still felt cold, so he scooted them closer to the fire.
"My devotion to you is not so easily shaken, Sasuke-kun," she whispered against his skin, her voice a soothing comfort to him and made more so by the surety of her in his hold. Gently, she lowered their hands to her lap, "No matter the pain of the past, they are only stories now. I would like to know more of the man that has claimed my heart," she paused for a moment and began to run her fingers up and down his forearm, as he so often did to her when she was on the brink of sleep, but a heaviness beset her next words, "If you wish to tell me."
The rigour of his posture did not go unnoticed by her and she held her breath in anticipation, apprehensive that she might be pushing him too far too quickly. But then, he sighed and lowered his lips to her neck, speaking low into her skin as though he could bury his sentiments there, permanently,
"I wish that you would not ask this of me," her fingers stalled on their path, tightening at his elbow, "So that I might spare you from some of this - agony," she could feel the tremor of his mouth as he sucked in a shallow breath, "And thus, selfishly, spare myself from your rebuke."
Sakura laughed quietly, but it was utterly humorless, born from a tentative disbelief instead.
"I do not think I have ever heard you divulge so much," she marveled, "And certainly not in so many words."
"I suppose I have much to say on the matter," his grip on her grew near constricting, but she did not move even an inch, fearful that she might disturb the delicate balance they had just achieved.
"I will hear it all," she said earnestly, "I would like to."
"Even if I knew where to start, I - ,"
"From the beginning," her voice was soft, but resolute, "Please."
STAY!
Do not leave. Not her. Not this time.
Please. . .
Blood.
Blood on his hands, on his tunic, on his face. On the blade clutched in his shaking fingers. Sasuke raised his eyes -
The Uchiha flags billowed in the strong fall breeze as they sat hoisted atop two large wooden posts that bordered the entrance to his village. He could not remember the last time he had crossed that threshold and ventured into the world beyond. It was forbidden now, and had been since his brother's return from the war. No one entered and no one left.
"Sasuke," his father called to him as he approached, "It is time for dinner."
Reluctantly, Sasuke tore himself away and followed after his father. Their meals together were different now, silent and short where there had once been joviality at length. There was something of a formality to them, a necessity that had not been there before. Where once they gathered to share stories, exchanging words of humor or pride or affection, now there was only the scrape of plates against the table, the hushed whisper of Fugaku excusing himself to brood alone in another room, and the quiet sniffle of his mother as she tried to hide her tears. Since his brother's return and since the Emperor's declaration, their house had felt less like a home with each day, as though a mass of clouds hung above them, threatening a storm to come.
Sasuke surveyed his father as he trailed behind him. Fugaku's shoulders were taut beneath his haori, pulled together by the weight of a burden his son could not yet understand. Hesitantly, Sasuke spoke,
"May I see Naruto soon?"
Fugaku tilted his head slightly, peering back at his son in his peripheral.
"No," he replied stoutly. Sasuke bowed his head, silenced, and continued on down the path. He could not remember the last occasion he had visited Konoha or seen his friend, but every time he asked his father, he was met with the same answer.
They proceeded up the steps of their house without so much as another word uttered between them and walked inside. Itachi and Mikoto were already seated at the table, the steam still pluming from the freshly cooked food. It was no less a feast than they had ever had, but with his brother's eyes cast to his lap and his mother's faraway gaze, Sasuke knew it was not the same. He kneeled opposite his mother and Fugaku took his place at the head of the table. They bowed their heads for a brief moment, then took up their bowls and began to eat - all, but Itachi.
He sat immobile for a long breath, before lifting his eyes to stare at his father. Finally, he spoke,
"I have arranged travel for Sasuke."
All at once, everyone stilled and the room fell silent. Every gaze turned on Itachi. Fugaku lowered his bowl in a calm and measured motion.
"Where am I going?" Sasuke asked timidly.
"Away," Itachi spared him a short glance, then returned it to his father, "With me."
Fugaku clenched his fists.
"My son is staying here. With me."
"You must believe me," Itachi implored him.
"You have given me no reason to," Fugaku replied coldly, "I will not have you corrupt Sasuke when you have already destroyed this clan. You have ruined his future - and whatever prospects we might have had for him. I will not let you lead him to death."
"We will die if we remain here!" Itachi stood suddenly, an unshakeable fury that Sasuke had never seen before claiming his brother, "We will die from your own obstinance!"
"Itachi, please," Mikoto raised her hands between them. She sighed heavily, casting a tentative glance towards her husband before looking back to her eldest, "What you have told us is an astounding claim. You can not expect us to believe such a thing."
"Mother," Itachi's shoulders sagged; if he had hoped for anyone's belief, it was hers. Sasuke watched his brother attentively, watched his face fall, his eyes darken, and saw their betrayal crush him. With a shuddering breath, he composed himself and said, soberly, "They are coming. And they will kill us all."
With that word, he left, proceeding out the front door and into the village. Sasuke watched him go for as long as he could keep him in his sights, but, eventually, he turned his attention back to his parents.
"Fugaku, what if - ,"
"No," he shook his head fervently and came to his feet, "He will say whatever he needs to, but there is no forgiving what he has done."
Fugaku left the room, retreating to the back of the house, and shuttered himself away. Mikoto trembled as she met Sasuke's wide, curious eyes and cupped a hand over her mouth.
"Mother," his voice was quiet and unsure, "Is Itachi - bad?"
"No, darling," Mikoto shook her head, "No. He is still your brother. He has only lost his way, but I - I think - ," she swallowed a sob, squeezing her eyes shut to blink away the tears, "Do not dwell on this Sasuke. It will pass, like all things. The war has changed him. As it does all men."
"Are we safe?"
Mikoto saw the fear in her son's trepid gaze and so she nodded surely.
"We are. You need not worry," she gestured towards his food, "Come, let us finish dinner."
Sasuke nodded, assuaged some, but not entirely, and took up his bowl. As he began to eat, his mother smiled.
Please, stay. Stay here. Do not go on.
Just stay.
" - Nearly."
"I could have. . . - More."
" - Enough. It will never feel like enough."
"But, the villages - ,"
Blood. On his hands, on his tunic, on his face. On the blade clutched in his shaking fingers. Somebody was yelling; a woman's voice and then a boy's. Now, a man's. They shouted over one another, drowning out any sensible words Sasuke might have heard in their frantic cacophony. Were they yelling at him? For him?
Kushina?
"Well done," Itachi scooped him into a hug from behind, pride evident in his voice. "You will be a fine warrior, Sasuke."
"You promised you would teach me more when you returned from the palace," Sasuke spun quickly on his feet to face Itachi and stared up at him sharply, "But you have only had me practice the same thing over and over again."
"It is important for you to know how to defend yourself," Itachi said sternly as he knelt in front of his brother, "It is more important for you to know how to end a fight than to start one."
"More important?"
"Of course," Itachi chuckled playfully, "We are not just a clan of warriors. We are a clan of noblemen."
Sasuke scrunched his nose in disgust.
"Why should I want to be like one of them?"
"You were born of a noble line, Sasuke, and," Itachi stalled himself, lost in the throes of a memory. With a frown, he continued carefully, "Perhaps one day it will be your turn to take residence at the palace, just as I did. There is much more to being a nobleman than idle gossip and societal aggrandisement - it is about diplomacy, compromise, and loyalty. You must learn how to carry the Uchiha name."
Sasuke fidgeted under his brother's gaze.
"Father says I will not go to the palace now," he swallowed thickly, "He says I am not allowed there."
Itachi hung his head, unable to hide the weariness that ate away at him any longer.
"It is your duty. We have a responsibility to our family, to the clan," he spoke quietly, his words heavy, his smile gone, "We have a legacy to carry forth. Whatever misfortunes befall you, I - I want you to know - ," he sighed harshly, "It is my fault. The life that has been taken from you, it is because of me."
"No, I did not mean - ,"
Itachi raised his hand swiftly.
"No, Sasuke, it is the burden that I bear. None of this is your fault. I wish that I could take it back, that I could make it right, but," he hesitated, then, suddenly, he smiled. It was a placid upturn of his lips, devoid of any true joy or peace; it was a smile to appease his brother, "But I can not. I only want you to know - to understand that no matter what happens, I will be right by your side. Whatever it is, we will overcome it. Together."
"Together?" Sasuke asked, his voice deepening, roughened by something he was not quite sure of.
"Together."
Stay.
Please, stay here. Stay in this moment. If he goes -
"I do not want to leave the village," Sasuke bowed his head, as if his meager protest were an outlandish request, "I want to stay here, with you."
"It is not safe for us to stay."
"But mother and father - ,"
"I know," Itachi gritted his teeth, "I know what they said. I can not explain it to you now. Not now. But, perhaps one day."
"You are always saying that."
His brother huffed a laugh and nodded.
"Yes, I suppose I am. I hope you will understand these things when you are older."
"I am older with every second that passes," Sasuke protested, "You told me that."
Itachi laughed heartily and it lifted Sasuke's spirits. That familiar rumbling chuckle was welcome to his ears, for he had not heard such a joyous sound in a long time.
"So I did," he smiled brightly, a glimmer of genuine happiness, happiness that could only be brought out by his little brother, slipping into his visage, "And you would do well to remember it. Wisdom can come from every experience, Sasuke, if only you choose to learn from them."
"What did you learn?" His brother asked, "From the war?"
Itachi sucked in a breath and clasped his hands together in his lap. He lowered his gaze for a fleeting moment as he pondered quietly.
"I learned many things. I learned that the men I went to battle with were my brothers - just as you are. They stayed by my side - Seiichi stayed, but I - I learned that I could not always protect them. There are things that I can not control, that I can not - can not fight with a sword alone. I learned that there is so much more to war than the weapons we wield and the people we fight for."
Itachi fell silent, consumed by a memory that his brother had no knowledge of. Sasuke could see it creep into his brother's eyes, eating away at him, swallowing the light he so often carried. He stepped closer, gingerly, and wrapped his small arms around Itachi's neck.
Stay. Do not leave. Not this time.
PLEASE.
Everything was too bright, too blurry, but in his peripheral - a flash of blonde. Naruto - no, it was not. . . Could not. . . But somebody famili. . .
"Are you ready?" Itachi held his hand out to Sasuke, an urgency in his voice and a palpable fear in his eyes. Sasuke turned his head to the side and stared into the dark of the forest. It looked almost black; darker than any night he had ever known. As he took a few steps forward, he became aware of how raw and sore his feet were.
Itachi beckoned him closer.
"Are you ready?" It was less of a question now; a query in courtesy only. His voice became insistent, "We have to run, Sasuke."
"I do not want to run," even then, he understood, to some extent, the futility of his protest, "I want to go back."
A flash of frustration crossed over his brother's normally serene features. But just as quickly as it came, it was replaced by a pure and evident pain. Sasuke could see something conversant there, something that might suggest this was not the first time his brother had to bid somebody goodbye.
"There is nothing to go back to."
"But - No, I - ,"
"Sasuke, there is nothing left for us. You must trust me," Itachi's voice wavered, "There is a future for you. I promise you. And I promise I will not stop fighting until you have it."
But, how much longer would they have to fight? How much longer would this go on? Sasuke turned his eyes to the trails of smoke in the air. They had been running all night - his legs ached and his lungs burned. His chest felt as though a great stone had been laid upon it and his mind bore a heaviness he had never experienced in his thus short life. How could he run anymore?
Beyond the thicket of trees, he could see the orange glare of the blazing fire. He wondered, if anything, what might be left of their home.
Would they ever return? And if they did, what would await them?
"Sasuke."
He turned back to Itachi whose hand quivered the longer he held it out.
Run. Do not stay here.
"I do not want to go," he whispered quietly, the uncomfortable scratch of his throat disturbing his meek words.
"We have no choice," Itachi took Sasuke's hand, unable to extend the invitation any longer, "We need to keep going."
A thunderous boom sounded behind them, followed by frantic screams and the rumble of destruction. Itachi jerked Sasuke forward, pulling him through the forest, away from the blast, and deeper into the darkness.
A clamorous cacophony rose from their village; chants and shouts, the clang of blades and the clash of war.
"Close your eyes, Sasuke," Itachi urged him, spurring their tired feet forward, "Don't look, just keep running. I've got you."
Run. Run far from here. Do not stay.
RUN.
"You will be safe," Kushina clutched Sasuke against her side as he wailed into her shoulder, "I promise you, we will keep you safe."
No. Do not stay here. Not this one. Leave. Now.
Through her protective fingers, he could see Naruto watching him, could see the sympathy and pain that was held in his eyes. So Sasuke averted his teary gaze; he could not bear the pity in those wide blue orbs.
The carriage lurched along the road at a fierce speed, away from the burning village, away from the ruins of his home, away from his family. And as the tears continued to flow, he found that the farther they traveled, the longer they continued on, the more his sorrow grew. Like the burgeoning seeds of the vegetables his mother had planted in her garden, he could feel it, brutal and raw, as it rooted in his stomach. It wound through his abdomen and rose towards his heart, as if reaching for the light, for the warmth, for the sun that would nourish it. For that secret place within him, that place that coveted his love, his hope, his compassion. That place that would keep them.
That place where the only bit of luminance still lived within him.
Those shadowy roots, brutal and raw, sharp and savage, twisted through his chest and tightened around his heart.
No. Do not stay here. Run. Run now.
Please. Not this one.
Not this night.
Please.
His breath came short and shallow, hiccuping with every sob. Kushina's words, a repetitive recitation of soothing sentiments, became a muffled noise, a constant buzz that filled the small space of the carriage, a sound to pass the time. But even she could not drown out his sorrow. It seemed to swell past his corporeal form, exuding outward until it infested each and every one of them.
Suddenly, the horses stopped and Minato appeared at the door just a second later.
"Come now, hurry," he ushered them out of the carriage, grabbing Naruto's hand as Kushina took Sasuke's. They stepped out into the still dark night and towards a pair of horses hitched to a tree. A tall man with long, wild silver hair approached them. Painted down his face were two thick red lines that skewed crooked across his cheeks as he spoke.
"Take the horses north," he said to Minato, "I will meet you there by way of the main road."
"Thank you, Jiraiya," Minato clasped his hand on the man's shoulder for a brief moment before they parted. Jiraiya took to the front of the carriage and started off down the road. Kushina hoisted Sasuke atop one of the horses and took her place in front of him. They rode off with Minato and Naruto on the other horse, winding away from the beaten path and into the shadows.
Do not go. Do not go any farther.
Turn back.
It is not safe.
He was clinging tightly to Kushina's waist as they tore through the forest, through the sorrow, through the pain, through the darkness. And then, he realized he was so, so tired.
Tired of the pain, tired of the running, tired of everything.
All of it.
He just wanted to go home. To his brother. To his father. To his mother. To his clan. He wanted to go back. But they continued to move forward, riding towards the mountains as a new day began to dawn.
Do not go. Turn back.
It is not safe.
Blood. On his hands, on his tunic, on his face. On the blade clutched in his shaking fingers. Sasuke raised his eyes -
The sun was hidden that day, covered by thick gray clouds that promised a storm was not far off. Naruto and Sasuke were seated outside the squalid hut that they had been occupying for the last few months, a home that was barely a home and certainly not their first in the years since they had fled their villages.
"They should be back by now," Sasuke surveyed the trees that surrounded the hut, then looked to the mountains that peeked to the right of them, "We should go looking for them."
"No," Naruto shook his head, "They said to stay here. No matter what. I am certain they are fine. You should not worry so."
"Hn," Sasuke's jaw tightened and he bit his tongue. He could not help the feeling of dread that curdled in his stomach, but he did not have to subject Naruto to the same misgivings. Perhaps he was right and Sasuke did not need to worry, but that was a feat not so easily accomplished. Not since that night.
Abruptly, Minato and Kushina burst through the thicket of trees and came barreling towards them. Naruto and Sasuke shot to their feet.
"Grab whatever you can!" Minato barked as he ran into the hut, "We must leave now!"
"We saw one of them," Kushina explained before Naruto or Sasuke could ask, "In the market, in the village."
Naruto wasted no time running in after his father to gather up what little possessions they still had, but Sasuke stood frozen beside Kushina.
How many more times would they be forced to flee before they had nothing left? How many more houses? How many more years?
"Sasuke," Kushina grabbed his wrist, startling him from his thoughts. Naruto and Minato, with a sword at his hip, were waiting just ahead. All three were shouldering their packs, ready to leave, "We must go. Now!"
Sasuke inhaled sharply, swallowed his reluctance, and nodded. Without a glance behind him, he followed them as they ran forward; there was nothing left, nothing material within that little hut that held any worth for him anymore.
As they slipped through the towering trees, the patter of rain began, softly at first, but then the sky shuddered with the crack of thunder and a burst of lightning cut through the clouds. The ground beneath them quickly turned to a muddy slush as the drizzle transformed into a ferocious storm.
"There!" A sharp voice tore through the sound of the rain and Sasuke whipped about to see three men in dark robes advancing on them. The clouded cloaks.
RUN.
Run and do not look back! Do not stay here!
Sasuke faltered in his tracks, his fists clenching at his sides as an insatiable fury overtook him.
RUN.
RUN NOW.
"Sasuke, go!" Minato bellowed, rushing in front of him with his sword brandished. Kushina came to his side and grabbed Sasuke. She broke into a sprint, clinging to him, as Naruto kept their pace. The rain was falling harder now, distorting the vision ahead of them, but they kept on. They could not stop. They had to - RUN.
Suddenly, a figure dropped from the trees, splattering them with the muck beneath their boots. The man lifted his hood and unsheathed a long steel blade.
Kushina's arm shot out in front of Sasuke and Naruto protectively.
"Stay behind me."
"No," Naruto tried to push forward, but Sasuke held him back. Kushina stepped closer to the man, her hand still outstretched behind her.
"Please, let them go," she entreated him, "It is only me and my husband that you seek. They have no quarrel with you."
"And yet," the man's lips curled into a sneer, "By association, they must be our enemy. Surrender now, all of you, and perhaps there will be mercy."
"Fine," Kushina placed her palms out in concession, "I will surrender."
"Mother, no!" Naruto wrested against Sasuke, but he would not budge. The warrior proceeded towards her slowly, sword held before him until the steel kissed her neck. Kushina clenched her fists and waited until the man was but a foot from her, then she swung her elbow into his chest. He staggered back with gasping breath and she charged forward, slipping along the muddy ground to slam her heel into his knee. His legs buckled and his sword fell. Kushina scooped it up hastily and shucked her pack off her shoulder, throwing it back to Sasuke.
"Run, boys!" She urged them as she pointed the blade at the man's chest, "Run, now!"
Naruto could not move, so Sasuke grabbed him by the arm and they took off. He did not know where they were going or what they would do then they got there. All he knew was that he was tired. So, so tired.
Amidst the blood rushing in his ears, he could faintly hear Naruto's dissents, his pleas to return to his mother's side, but Sasuke ignored them all. They could not stop. They had to keep going.
Do not stay here. RUN.
"Set him here - ,"
" - Get - He will want to see - ,"
"Get him, now!"
Blood. On his hands, on his tunic, on his face. On the blade -
"Sasuke-kun?"
He blinked his eyes open and found himself staring down at Sakura's hand enclosed in his. They were still cozied beside the fire, legs entwined together.
"I just," he lifted his head, taking in the surroundings of her room. Where had he just gone? It was - it was warm, suffocating almost, like an oppressive summer day. He had heard voices. Strange voices, but -
"What is it?" She pressed.
A chill ran up his spine and he shivered against her.
"Oh, you are still cold," she started to move, but his arms would not budge. Sakura nudged him, "Come, let us go to bed."
"No, I-I am fine," he squeezed his eyes shut and buried his head in her neck again, "It is only - , "
"Yes?"
"It is nothing. Nothing."
"We do not have to speak," she whispered, relaxing in his hold once more, "Not tonight, my love."
If not tonight, then when? He thought. There was a sinking feeling, in his mind, in his stomach, in his heart, that he would never again have a moment like this with her.
"It is not an easy thing to speak of, least of all to you," he admitted quietly.
"It is, perhaps, the most important then," she spoke steadily with an unshakable surety, "It is the things that cause us the most torment, the most suffering, that we must hold dear - ,"
"What did you say?" He stiffened against her, the haunting words she had just uttered echoing throughout his very being.
"Sasuke-kun," she admonished him, "I said we do not have to speak tonight."
"No, just now, you said - ,"
"I asked you to tell me a story."
"No - ,"
No. This was all wrong. He did not want to be here. He needed to go back.
Yes, he needed to go back.
Go back.
"You could tell me a story about you," she suggested, loosening the ties of her near frozen cloak. Sasuke bowed his head as he stepped behind her to relieve her of the garment and he remained silent as he draped it over her chair beside the window. Perhaps if he did not speak, she would forget the matter. But, he knew that was about as likely as her putting down her brother's sword now that she had picked it up. Sakura prompted him again, "Any story."
He faced her then and saw her seated at the hearth, her arms held out towards the fire. She must have noticed the uncertainty in his gaze, for she beckoned him over, but he did not move.
"I can not fathom that any story of mine would be one that you would want to hear."
He did not bother to hide his skepticism from her; his life had been mired in pain and suffering, tragedy with little triumph - all of which had inexplicably connected him to her in nothing short of the most brutal and renitent ways possible. That barely tangible thread that wound so tightly around them, that connected them, was one of many ties; something so easily twisted, but nearly impossible to disentangle. And, at times, so constricting that he could not even breathe.
"My devotion to you is not so easily shaken, Sasuke-kun," she scolded him and drew her hands down to her lap, clasping them tightly. Quite abruptly, the space between them seemed as wide as an ocean and deeper than any cavernous hole, "No matter the pain of the past, they are only stories now. I would like to know more of the man that has claimed my heart," she sighed heavily, her frustration seeping into her next words, "If you wish to tell me."
Sasuke gripped the back of her chair, knuckles whited with the force. Restraint and indulgence. He teetered between them once more.
"I wish that you would not ask this of me," his jaw clenched, "So that I might spare you from some of this - agony," there was a slight tremor in his form and as she saw it run through him, she stood and approached him cautiously, "And thus spare me from my own agony," he fixed her with a narrowed, pained stare, "And the agony of your rebuke."
Sakura softened and reached for his hand, peeling it off her cloak gently.
"I do not think I have ever heard you divulge so much," she felt a knot forming in her throat and the hollow sensation of a boundless sorrow she could not comprehend opening beneath them, "And certainly not in so many words."
Sasuke went quiet, his eyes falling to their hands as she enclosed his fingers within hers. They were still the hands of royalty, soft and delicate, unblemished and molded to be adorned by glittering gold and priceless gems. But it was these same hands, these same fingers, that wielded a sword, that flipped the pages of countless journals, and that cradled his heart.
"I will hear it all," she said sincerely, "I would like to. If only you would share it with me."
He met her probing gaze again, watching the hope and earnest in her wide green eyes burgeon, but then slowly die with every second he remained silent.
Sasuke teetered on that same precipice she seemed to leave him on so often; one foot on the cliff and the other in the abyss. But, what would happen if he told her? About his past? His truths? Everything?
For as long as he lived, he would never be able to forget the look of horror, of betrayal, of the heartbreak he had caused her written all over her face. He did not think he would be able to survive that again. He did not think he would be able to survive her denouncement, for, surely, there could only be so many things before she decided that enough was too much.
If only he could remain in that moment with her, in that place and time where her presence was no longer a question, but an enduring promise. Somehow, in some way he had yet to comprehend, this had become normal, routine. The things that had once made up the course of his days - sleeping, eating, training with the other guards - now seemed like a far off dream. But if this was his new reality, his new life -
Sakura lowered their hands, releasing him slowly. She turned and walked slowly to her bedroom. With a slight turn of her head, she glanced back at him and said,
"Perhaps another time then."
"Sak - ,"
" - Ura?"
"Sasuke? Sasuke?!"
Heavy. Too heavy to move.
Minato yelled sharply and Naruto yanked Sasuke to a stop. They panted heavily as they stood in the pouring rain in the middle of the forest, utterly lost and completely alone.
"I have to help him," Naruto wrenched himself from Sasuke's grasp and took off in the direction of his father's voice. He tossed a look back at Sasuke and shouted, "Go help her!"
Sasuke fidgeted before cursing and turning on his heel to run back to Kushina. Naruto was right, they had to help. He came upon Kushina in time to see her pinned to the ground by not one, but now two of the men in the clouded cloaks. The blade she had been using was cast aside, but the second warrior had his own raised to strike.
"NO!" Sasuke howled, drawing their attention as he bolted forward, throwing off his pack, and tackled the one with the sword. Kushina kicked the other man off of her and rolled to her feet. As Sasuke wrestled the warrior to the ground, he locked his legs around the man's waist and hooked his arm around the man's neck, grasping his wrist to tighten his hold.
The warrior choked and flailed, releasing his sword to swing his fist at Sasuke's face. He pulled back and punched Sasuke squarely in the jaw. Sasuke tasted metal, the bitter flavor of spilled blood filling his mouth. Despite the pain, Sasuke held fast, even as another punch came. Then another. Then another. Then, the man swung again and missed. His limbs flailed, his mouth gaped, and his chest heaved. The sound of his throat squeezing out a desperate gasp for air filled Sasuke's ears until all he could hear was the warrior's dying breaths.
And then, nothing.
The man stilled and slackened in Sasuke's arms. Sasuke shoved him off and scrambled back frantically, his heart pumping furiously, his blood rushing, his adrenaline spreading to every inch of his body, infecting him completely.
"Sasuke!" Kushina called to him as she tried to defend against the other man's blows. She was faster than him, but he was a large, sturdy man; one that could not be so easily taken down. Sasuke grabbed for the nearby sword and ran upon them. He drove the blade through the man's back all the way to the hilt. It pierced through the warrior's chest, peeking out above his shoulder where Sasuke could see the tip coated in red. The blood trickled from the sword's hilt and ran down Sasuke's fingers. He watched it spread to the cotton on his arm, blooming outward, and jerked his arms back, the sword still clasped in his hold.
Rain poured over them, slipping down the errant strands of his hair to his forehead and down his lashes. He wiped furiously, trying to clear his vision, only to realize in horror that he had just covered himself in the man's blood.
Blood.
On his hands, on his tunic, on his face. On the blade clutched in his shaking fingers. Somebody was yelling; a woman's voice and then a boy's. Now, a man's. They shouted over one another, drowning out any sensible words Sasuke might have heard in their frantic cacophony. Were they yelling at him? For him?
Sasuke raised his eyes and saw the terrified stares of Minato, Kushina, and Naruto. Their lips moved, but he could not hear them for the thunderous storm and the raging beat of his heart. He turned and ran. The slosh of mud beneath his boots accompanied the deafening rain to nearly drown out their voices as they called after him, almost silencing Kushina's frightened cries.
"Sasuke! Sasuke, where are you?!"
As he came upon a clearing, a flowing brook to his left and more forest to his right, he paused to catch his breath. His chest heaved as he panted heavily, gulping down air faster than he could think. He dropped the sword swiftly, but the blood remained on his skin.
"Sasuke!" He could hear Naruto now and his head whipped up in their direction. He could not see them yet, so he took off along the brook, following the stream of water as it grew to a rushing river.
Go back.
Do not stay here. It is not safe.
GO BACK.
"Perhaps another time then."
"Sakura," she paused at the sound of her name, waiting for him, but then he could not remember what it was he had intended to tell her.
Stay.
Stay here.
Stay with her.
Stay in this moment.
Stay -
No one had ever looked at him like that before, like she did, like she was. When they were not parted to cry his name, her lips were turned up in the sweetest smile. Her eyes shined brighter than any trinket he had seen decorating her. She was focused solely on him, like he was the only thing in her past, her present, and her future.
Almost as if they had uttered the same sentiment, not with words, but with a glance, they slowed together. He buried himself within her and held there as she pushed out a strangled breath. Though he did not move, the fingers that she had woven through his hair tightened to pull him down. She stole a heady, languid kiss from him. But, he surmised, it could not really be stolen when he so freely gave everything to her.
Or, almost everything. . .
"I love you, Sasuke-kun," she rasped with what little bit of her voice she still possessed, "I did not think - ," she broke off sharply, having to stifle a moan when he shifted above her. He braced himself on his forearms, shrinking the distance between them, but positioning himself at a new angle within her. Sakura bit her lip, her brows furrowed, "I did not think it would be like this."
"Like what?" Even his voice came out gruff and coarse, worn with the hours they had spent together. But every aching muscle, every word that scratched against his throat, every ounce of pain was more than worth it. Because tonight. . . Tonight was his last night with her.
No. Not this one. Not this memory.
It was too precious, too sacred, too excruciating. Not this one. He did not want to leave her.
Not again.
Sakura's fingers trailed down his back and around his front until they rested over his heart.
"Like this," she repeated softly, "To equate it to perfection would be to do it a disservice - it is - It is something more. I can not say - I do not have the words."
"Then, do not speak," Sasuke urged her, bowing his head to catch her lips in another rapturous kiss.
Go back. Go back. Go back.
Do not stay here. Go back to the night under the stars. Go back to the night before he knew he would leave her. Go back to the night where it was only him and her and all the walls he had built between them.
Go back. Please.
His foot caught on a mossy rock and he slipped across the muck into the thrashing river. He fought against the sloshing waves, but the current pulled him under the water and swept him onward. His legs kicked and his arms swung out, but his body ached - He was tired. So, so tired.
Tired of running.
Tired of hiding.
Tired of the sorrow, the agony, the oppressive anguish.
Tired -
He just wanted to go home. To his brother. To his father. To his mother. To his clan.
He wanted to go back.
Suddenly, a hand shot through the lashing water, fingers spread wide as they grasped blindly for him. Sasuke reached for that hand, and they pulled him up, breaking through the river's surface. He was flung, coughing and wheezing, onto the boggy bank. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision as he peered above him.
Kushina came into view, tearing up, but smiling nonetheless. She clasped their hands together, squeezing them tightly, and stared at him warmly. Before she even spoke, he could see that she was devoid of any judgement or reproach for his actions. He could see only relief as she kept a fierce hold on him.
"Sasuke?!" Minato and Naruto ran forward, dropping to their knees beside him. Sasuke's head lolled, trying to discern his surroundings, but it grew too heavy, the action too difficult, so he simply closed his eyes and focused on breathing.
"Sasuke, it is not your fault," Kushina assured him, her voice a soothing timbre against the backdrop of the storm. As she spoke, Naruto and Minato placed their hands atop his shoulders and, somehow, the weight of their touch became a welcome burden, "It is not your fault. You did what you had to and that is often times the most painful thing one can ever endure," he heard her swallow a deep breath and felt her grip tighten, "But you must not run from this pain. You must not. It is the things that cause us the most torment, the most suffering, that we must hold dearest. They are the most important things and they are the most important weapons you possess. Because," she fought against the thickness in her throat, "Because of them you will love stronger, fight harder, and cherish deeper than anyone else. It is your greatest pain that is your greatest strength."
Sasuke shook as he lay upon the wet earth in the cold rain and began to cry. He cried for the emptiness in his heart, for the agony that had caused it, and for the darkness that was slowly filling it.
He told himself that he had not meant to. He told himself that it was an accident. He told himself. . . that it was anything but.
He told himself that he would do it again.
And again.
And again.
And as many times as it took to keep the only family he now had safe.
Nevermore would he suffer at the hands of such cruel fate.
Nevermore would he allow himself to feel such pain.
Do not stay here. Leave this one.
Go. Run. Please.
"Sasuke?"
Please.
"Sasuke?"
Please.
"Sasuke."
. . . Please. . .
"Sasuke!"
His eyes snapped open and though his mind at once told him to sit up, he found his body refused.
"Sasuke, hey!"
Blurry fingers waved in front of his eyes and then Suigetsu's face replaced them. Despite the poignant throbbing of every inch of his body, Sasuke felt the corners of his lips twitch; he would never have thought it, but he was glad, truly, to see Suigetsu smiling down at him.
"You are alive," Suigetsu said with a distressed, but also relieved laugh.
" - m I?" Sasuke rasped, trying to raise his bound arm to clutch at the searing pain in his side, but even the slightest movement was met with a sharp resistance; he could not even find the source of his affliction. It was everywhere, just like that night - the attack - the Akatsuki, " - Ere - re we?"
"Someplace safe. Just outside your home - well, outside Konoha," Suigetsu wrung his hands anxiously as he watched Sasuke struggle to move. His eyes flitted around the small room he found themselves in; it was a mere four walls with two cots and a shoddy table that housed a few lit candles. There was not even a window to look out of, "Do you have the strength to stand? I am sure you have many questions, but I do not think I should be the one to answer them."
" - at do y - mean?" Sasuke choked on his words, his throat dry and a weight like a stone sitting on his chest, "What - ppened?"
"You should rest some more," Suigetsu said firmly, shoving against his shoulder gently before Sasuke had even realized he'd been trying to sit up. Stubbornly, Sasuke pushed back with the little strength he had and, though it was not much, he was able to swing his legs over the side of his bed. His bones creaked in protest and he wondered how long he had been asleep - days, certainly, but perhaps even weeks.
"Where are we?" He asked again. Suigetsu considered him for a moment, then jerked his head in the direction of the closed door at the end of the room.
"Come on. They have been eager to speak with you," Suigetsu helped Sasuke to his feet and supported him as he limped out into a long, cavernous hall that seemed to wind in a myriad of directions.
"Are we underground?" Sasuke stumbled as he turned his head up to the stone ceiling above them. His throat burned, but he had more pressing needs than a glass of water at that moment.
"Deep. I have found myself lost more than once since we arrived," he laughed despite the absurdity of his statement.
"How long have we been here?" Sasuke asked as they turned another corner. The corridor was empty, not a soul around them as they continued forward.
"Months," Suigetsu said stiffly, "I can not say for certain how many - I lost quite a bit of time myself."
"Months?" Sasuke blanched as they approached a large wooden door with a rusted iron handle, "The Emperor, Naruto, Sa - ,"
He cut himself short, but Suigetsu said,
"They are safe, but there is much more, but - he must explain it to you. I - I can not."
"He?"
"Through there," Suigetsu gestured to the door and Sasuke hobbled forward. The iron was warm beneath his hand as he twisted the handle and a cacophony of voices could be heard as he swung the door open. The hinges creaked and he then found himself at the threshold of a sprawling war room, crowded with men in cloaks that bore the Akatsuki's colors. His heart seized in his chest as their eyes turned on him and a hushed silence fell. But they did not attack. In fact, they did not seem to perceive his presence as a threat at all. Granted, he thought, there were far more of them than there were of him; he and Suigetsu would not have stood a chance.
Instead, the throng parted, clearing a path for him to the center of the room where a large, cluttered table sat. He shifted forward slightly, wary and weary, the soles of his feet aching, every bone in his body fatigued. The figures around him, each one growing increasingly familiar as his eyes passed over them astutely, continued to step aside. They split apart to either side of the room until only one was left, but he did not move from Sasuke's path. When Sasuke came to stand directly in front of him, the man's lips lifted into a smile.
"Sasuke."
"Itachi?"