Sasuke wakes early, nightmares from years ago wrenching him from his sleep and dragging him back to consciousness. He's used to them, but they still annoy him immensely, shoving them away to the back of his mind like he has for ages now. He bathes in a nearby lake before dressing and unwrapping a rice ball, settling under a tree and watching the sun rise and the world warm and wake up around him. The lake rushes to the shore not too far away, but he barely spares it a glance. The forest is quiet.
He likes quiet.
Sasuke had escaped the desert as fast as he could, almost fleeing Suna - unwilling to push his luck. Exhaustion puts a sag to his shoulders that wasn't there a few short years ago, and he blinks tired eyes and sets them on the sky above him.
Blue. There was a time when the color was comforting to him.
(It used to remind him of Naruto's eyes, but no longer.)
He eats his breakfast alone, next to the rushing water of the river, thinking of strategies to draw out the latest enemy Naruto has sent him after.
His chest aches, and not completely in a physical sense.
The next month, when he's low on supplies again and finds himself near Suna, he doesn't have to think too incredibly hard about stopping there. He knows they'll at least leave him be, and Gaara wouldn't fuss nor have him watched, so he makes preparations for the short stop he'll make in the village.
He's in and out in less than two hours, and thankfully - just like last time - no one looks twice at him. No Gaara this time, either.
It's almost strange, and definitely a change, being able to wander about the center of a busy village and not be addressed in any way. The shopkeepers thank him with a 'have a nice day' like they do anyone else, and he finds himself not having to stick to the outskirts of the marketplace to avoid being spotted.
Here, no one seems to care that the last Uchiha, formerly a missing nin and terrorist, was wandering about.
But if Sasuke is anything, it's cautious, and while he'd like to sleep in an actual inn on an actual bed for once, he gathers his supplies and leaves again, resuming his mission.
Sasuke returns to Suna two months later, his shoulder sore from a battle fought in the woods earlier that week, his stitches pulling as he stretches his arm. It wasn't easy, stitching himself up with only one arm and a hastily conjured shadow clone. The clone was unsteady and having one arm didn't help.
(Naruto was always better with clones. Better at everything, almost, though Sasuke would never admit it to his face.)
He managed alone, like he did everything else.
But still, the wound ached and Sasuke was exhausted. He needed supplies yet again, and for some reason he always ended up in the desert, like something was drawing him there. The alluring prospect of being able to gather supplies without being watched, no doubt.
That's why he finds himself in the busy Suna marketplace yet again, shoving extra kunai into his pack and mentally checking the item off his list. Next he needs food, and medical supplies. Then-
A red blur rushes past him, holding the hand of a smaller figure Sasuke can only see out of the corner of his eye. When he turns he sees Gaara holding a small child's hand, leading him to a stall. Sasuke pauses, curious.
The child points to something and Gaara bends to speak to him, before asking the shopkeeper something. The shopkeeper hands the Kazekage a plush bear, and Sasuke watches Gaara hand it to the child.
Gaara pays and takes the child's hand again, smiling softly as he leads the boy down the market stalls.
Then they're gone, almost as quickly as they arrived.
Sasuke stares after them, brows furrowed.
He would like to say that the sight doesn't stick with him - that it doesn't make him think of the little girl that waits in Konoha with his hair and eyes, but that would be a lie. Sarada should be about four years old now, he thinks. He hasn't seen her since she was three, but his stops in Konoha are few and far between, and he's not willing to change that. Sasuke rarely saw his own daughter, only about once or twice a year, when he could bear to stomach Haruno's presence. Which was so rare that he was sure the child barely even remembered his face. He never stayed for long, either. He couldn't. Usually if he stayed any longer than a few moments to see his daughter Haruno would get her hands on him again, and he...he just couldn't.
There was a time - when he was a child who just lost everything he'd ever known and any family he ever had - when he dreamed of growing up and beginning to rebuild his clan. An...odd dream for a child maybe, to have children to honor his lost family, but it was a goal he held onto during those lonely days. Those days when he was just relocated to a small apartment by himself and given a weekly allowance from the liquidated assets of his dead clan.
He just wanted any family, anyone. Any survivor.
Sasuke used to lie in bed in that empty apartment, the voices of his family and clan members echoing through his head as he stared at the ceiling, wishing he wasn't alone. That this didn't hurt so bad.
The little girl he hardly saw was his only blood connection, and Sasuke often wondered what it would be like if he could just take his daughter with him. So many times he thought that having the little girl near him would be so much better for them both, but he couldn't justify taking her from a stable home to travel with him. It was dangerous, and Sakura would definitely fight him on it, and then she'd…
No. His daughter was innocent. She shouldn't have to deal with the likes of him, or be caught between the two of them.
Just because he doesn't love her mother doesn't mean he doesn't love her.
Sasuke feels like people often make the mistake of thinking that he has no capacity for love at all.
He wonders if anyone would believe him if he told them that wasn't true.
Sasuke doubts it.
He leaves again, quicker this time.
But he can't help wondering who that little boy was.
Sasuke nurses the stab wound on his shoulder after another battle with some faceless enemy ninja that Naruto sent him after, rinnegan activating before a surge of chakra pulls through him and teleports him to the desert. He doesn't know why that's the first place he thinks of, but he settles there for a night - about a day away from the village - clumsily patching himself up and succumbing to exhaustion.
He doesn't even really remember why he was sent after them, and truthfully he doesn't care (he cares about so little these days) but he accepted the orders like he always did, simply doing as he was told.
Sasuke wonders when his memory got so bad. But he supposes when he doesn't care he can't be expected to remember the details of some random, low level thugs he's been sent to cut down.
He'd tried to refrain from having to kill them, hence his injury, but in the end the men proved to be too dangerous and had to be eliminated. He'd done so easily, but his hesitance to outright murder them immediately caused one to surprise him and bury a kunai in his shoulder.
Why was it always his shoulder? He had one good arm left, he'd like to keep it intact.
Shit.
As much chakra and jutsu as he had, pain was pain and he was still human after all, so he spent the night gritting his teeth and avoiding his side, not seeking to aggravate the wound further.
Needless to say, he doesn't get much sleep, and when he arrives in Suna the next day he sticks to the shadows though he knows he doesn't have to (and maybe it's a habit that he can't quite shake, but it doesn't matter), and in his weariness almost crashes right into the Kazekage himself.
Well, not crashes, but he doesn't quite see Gaara until he's face to face with him, looking down at the man in something like very muted surprise. It was rare that Sasuke wasn't vigilant and conscious of himself. He's sure his exhaustion doesn't help, but he mentally scolds himself anyway, forcing his tired mind to focus. He couldn't be so sloppy.
Sasuke had to stay sharp. Focus.
But it was getting harder and harder to do so, though he was loathe to admit it to himself. Maybe he was just tired. Not in the trivial way that could be fixed with sleep, but rather a bone-deep weariness that he didn't know how to shake. He barely knew what it was. Travelling was possibly taking its toll, but he couldn't return to Konoha to rest for an extended period of time, and he couldn't stop moving. He already was being summoned to the Leaf, but he wouldn't stay for any longer than it took for him to give Naruto his report of the latest mission. Just because it was getting harder to get up in the morning didn't mean Sasuke could rest. He didn't deserve to.
No. Sasuke just had to get himself together.
Gaara's non-existent brows furrow.
"You've returned."
Sasuke is pulled from his thoughts at the sound of Gaara's voice, his green eyes blank and staring.
"Yes."
Usually one word responses - especially from Sasuke - tended to put people off, but Gaara looks blank and unbothered by Sasuke's lack of small talk or greeting. Green eyes drift to his shoulder.
"You're bleeding."
Sasuke blinks at him for a moment before glancing down at his shoulder, eyeing the sluggish flow of blood that soaks through his cloak. It's a sizeable patch, which means apparently he'd been bleeding for a while. Well, that explains the brain fog, he supposed.
He bites back an annoyed sigh. Not even his best stitching efforts could keep his blood inside his body where it belonged, it seemed.
"I have bandages." Gaara says easily, turning to walk away, clearly expecting Sasuke to follow.
He watches the man's retreating back for a moment.
It's presumptuous of the Kazekage to think Sasuke would want his help. Presumptuous to think that he'd follow him without question.
And for some reason, he does. Sasuke either tends to overthink or not at all, and this is one of the few times where he just moves without pondering it beforehand. After all, if Gaara had an issue with him being here he would have said so months ago, and the man had no reason to do him any harm. Especially if he hasn't already.
They walk in silence, Sasuke a few places behind Gaara, feeling the blood drip down his chest under his shirt and vest. Tactically, it was smart to accept the medical attention being offered to him, but he still eyed the multiple ANBU with a practiced wariness. He knew they weren't watching him - merely overseeing the safety of their Kazekage - but Sasuke still refuses to let his guard down, eyes scanning the roof of the Kazekage mansion where the majority of them gather, eyes on Gaara as he lead Sasuke inside.
He wonders how Gaara can handle being watched so closely, but he doesn't ask. It wasn't his business.
"If you would like to see the medics I can lead you to the medical ward, but I figure you would rather patch yourself up?" He asks, not turning around as he leads Sasuke down a hallway.
"Hn."
"Then I'll supply you with bandages and antiseptic." Gaara tells him, turning down another corridor before stepping into a room filled with potted plants and a large desk placed in the center.
The surface is littered with papers, as if someone was in the middle of reading them all, and potted plants took up space on the windowsills and hung from the ceiling.
Cacti.
But he notices the scent most of all.
The smell of Gaara's office makes him notice the smell of the entire village in a second, and he finally notices the scents are...vastly different from anywhere else he's ever been.
Suna smelled sweet. A lingering scent of sugar and flowers hung in the air, mixed with the earthiness that Sasuke has come to associate with the desert.
"Your village smells like a confectionery factory." Sasuke says before he can stop himself.
The sweet smell hangs in the air, but it's bearable. He can even ignore it, after a while. In a way, he sort of only just noticed. Or rather, he noticed but he didn't quite make the distinction that Sunagakure smelled different than most villages until now.
Sasuke wasn't a particularly sensitive alpha. Pheromones often went ignored by him, and he couldn't understand the idea of losing control simply because of a smell. He never could.
But well, his sense of smell was dampened ever since that night, when Itachi filled his nose with the scent of his family's blood and the stench of death. He feels as if he's smelled nothing else ever since.
Gaara blinks, and rummages around in the desk drawer "Suna has a population of about 90% omegas, so I would imagine so."
Sasuke raises an eyebrow, glancing out the window, "Really."
"Is that a problem?"
"No. This is just the first I've heard of a majority omegan village." Sasuke says. It's true. He'd heard of mostly alpha or beta villages, but omegas were usually few and far between, if you came across them at all.
How has Suna not been overrun with rabid alphas? How was this large a concentrated number of omegas in one place living so safely? Ordinarily they'd constantly be attacked by any alpha who caught a whiff of the village's scent. Groups, even.
How was Suna still standing?
Gaara, probably. Stories about the fearsome Kazekage probably deterred a lot of trouble. But still, the Uchiha thought, Suna was still somewhat of a shaky village, just now finding its footing largely thanks to Gaara's reformation of the place. A bit behind but not any less impressive than the other shinobi nations.
But still.
It strikes him that the wind probably confused any alphas looking to follow the scent should they by chance even get a whiff of it from across the desert. Which was unlikely.
With a little more thought Sasuke supposed it was possible after all.
Interesting.
Omega pheromones rarely affected him, so his curiosity was purely factual, simply wondering how a village of this sort ran. Was it ran any differently at all?
He doesn't ask.
Sasuke's eyes land on a scroll lying on the desk, addressed to the Hokage and written in the usual code they all sent sensitive information in.
Gaara was writing Naruto. About what, Sasuke wasn't sure, but the reminder of the Hokage makes Sasuke stomach turn. He's been ordered to return to the Leaf at some point within the next few days to give his report about the thugs he'd just wiped out. He didn't look forward to it.
Gaara follows his eyes, handing him the bottle and the box of bandages.
"There seems to be some traces of Kaguya's chakra littered about my desert. I figured Naruto should know." He says, like it was so easy to tell Sasuke such sensitive information. The Uchiha doesn't know what to make of Gaara, truthfully. The man clearly doesn't have a problem speaking to him, even though…
Sasuke decides not to think too hard about it.
"I am...on my way there." Sasuke says, wondering if he sounds as reluctant to return to Konoha as he feels, "If you have a scroll to send, I can deliver it."
It's the least he could offer, for the bandages and privacy.
Sasuke went quiet, waiting for Gaara to decline. He would, he was sure.
People didn't trust Sasuke. He wasn't trustworthy. There was no way Gaara would trust him with a secure message for the Hokage's eyes alone-
"Would you? I would appreciate it." Gaara says, "But only if it's no trouble."
Sasuke blinks. Surprised.
"Hn."
Gaara hands him the scroll and Sasuke pulls out another, drawing blood and pressing his finger to the seal. The scroll vanishes. He'll summon it when it comes time to give it to Naruto.
His eyes suddenly land on the farthest wall.
An impressive collection of books and scrolls are displayed on a few shelves by the door that span the entire space, and the sight makes Sasuke pause.
Books . So many books. He doesn't mean to stare, but his eyes fall on the shelves and he doesn't move, eyes greedily scanning the titles.
His eyes fall on the spine of each book, quickly assessing the volumes.
Sasuke always picked up what he could find along his travels, but they were rarely to his tastes. He settled for them anyway, yearning for an escape of any kind. Something to grasp onto other than just the world passing him by. Something to focus on other than the mess that was constantly swirling about in his head.
Mismatched eyes scan the titles on the second shelf and Sasuke feels himself brighten inside, just a bit. Volumes on ninjutsu, psychology…
"Feel free to take one with you." Gaara says suddenly, and Sasuke is reminded of the man's presence, "These books could definitely stand to be read by someone other than me."
These days possibly more than ever Sasuke ached to read anything he could get his hands on.
Anything to not think.
And then there was the escape. He didn't have to think about himself, or Konoha, or the Uchiha legacy. Whether the thoughts at the time were good or bad were almost irrelevant - they were simply overwhelming, no matter what. The world after the war was more peaceful than ever, but for Sasuke it got infinitely more complicated. He had to try and navigate the world in a strange middle ground where he was still looked at with disdain and fear for his past actions, but also acknowledged as the strongest shinobi standing by Naruto's side. He has untrustworthy to most, but still regarded with the tainted respect that came with fear. It was unnerving in a way Sasuke didn't anticipate.
So he buried himself in books he found during his journey after the war. Sasuke let the stories and thoughts of others wash over him and send him adrift in a quiet place where he didn't have to think about so much.
Sasuke read anything he could get his hands on. Fantasies from Iwa and medical journals from the Hidden Waterfall. He found a book of supernatural horror stories written by some reclusive author from the Sand village. He found that in a tiny village along the border of the Sound, actually…
Gaara words catch up to Sasuke and he turns to look at the Kazekage, who stands there neatening the papers on his desk and gathering scrolls to reorganize.
The man was so strange with how he simply allowed Sasuke to wander about his village, trusting him...and now... lending him books?
He has no reason to trust Sasuke. They weren't friends, (Sasuke doesn't have friends. He just has Naruto. His only bond, and he was a tool for the Hokage more than anything else because he didn't deserve Naruto's friendship, even now) and their allyship was nothing more than their villages vowing to come to each other's aid, and Sasuke being Konoha's war dog meant that should Suna be in danger he'd be deployed to help, but there was no personal bond between them. And while Gaara clearly didn't wish him harm, he couldn't quite understand why the man was so accommodating towards him. Nice, even.
Gaara was so odd. Sasuke always thought so.
"Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't." Gaara says, bluntly but not unkindly.
Sasuke chooses a book on psychology.
When Sasuke returns it two weeks later, Gaara lends him a new one. This one is suggested by the Kazekage personally, and Sasuke takes it, deeming it interesting enough to give his time. He nods to Gaara in thanks and sets off.
He reads the book over the course of the next month, and while the writing style is very... interesting, he enjoys it.
When he arrives in Suna to return it, Gaara turns towards the bookshelf and pulls another one from it before handing it to Sasuke.
"I'd like to hear your thoughts on that one." He says, wandering over to his desk, "I found it interesting."
Sasuke opens it to the first page as soon as he steps out of the office door.
