Thank you to everyone who kindly took time to review the last chapter.
Chapter XCVI
Two noble Princes, forfeit to pay,
A contract of death - they wither away,
A most tragic demise of souls consumed,
Crystal immortalised and entombed.
~x~
Shrewd dark eyes gazed intently into the hearth, watching the flames licking at the cauldron suspended above the fire. Countless millennia she had spent in faithful service to The Moraie. Never had she found herself questioning their wisdom and judgement, even when she failed to understand the reasoning behind their divine decrees.
That had all changed in the distressing moment when she had received her last premonition.
Her heart felt heavy, burdened with a knowledge too terrible for her to carry alone. And yet it was her function, her duty to guard the Crossroads of Fate. To ensure no mortal or deity ventured into the murky unknown of the future before their time.
To defy her duty was to tempt her own demise. Older than most, she had lived long enough to witness the birth and undoing of many immortals who had repudiated their functions. Very few had ever touched and impacted her on a personal level. She could recount only a number on the fingers of one hand. When one lived undying for eternity, the concept of mourning was foreign. And yet she had lived long enough to experience the loss of both her kin and trusted friends.
The fall of the Olympian King and Queen had been one such calamity. She had held Zeus and his feisty queen, Hera, in high regard and had deeply grieved their loss. Another had been the demise of Nyx and Erebus. The losses of young Hypnos and Thanatos had also pained her. But no loss had cut her more deeply than the cruel fall of her own immediate kin.
Chiyo had once had a noble son who had fallen for a gentle, dark-haired demi-goddess hailing from Sunagakure, the Hidden Sand Village. Their union had resulted in the birth of her only grandson - Sasori, his true name had been - a flame-haired, quiet, sensitive child who had enjoyed collecting and carving mannequins from wood at a young age. Despite his mother being only partly immortal, he had inherited the Titan bloodline that ran through his father and grandmother's veins.
She had fond recollections of the little boy sitting at her feet long before the days of war in Suna, contentedly assembling and painting his puppets, lifting them from their strings to show off his creations. His sweet, cherub face and amber eyes had shone with pride when he had first learned to harness his own chakra to animate the dolls.
It had started out as a harmless interest, but the other children in the village thought his past-time odd and disturbing. As a result, he had grown increasingly withdrawn and isolated from those around him, even his own parents and grandmother, locking himself away for long hours to work on increasingly complex, life-like and spectacular creations. What had begun as artistic passion had gradually twisted into alarming obsession as Sasori had come of age, honing his gifts to enslave puppets with his own, carefully crafted chakra strings. An obsession that had eventually spiralled out of control when he had cultivated a grotesque interest in harnessing humans in a similar fashion, to add to what he had labelled was his growing 'collection'. He had amassed vulnerable victims using alarming abilities of cunning, trickery and manipulation.
Dolos was the name mortals had given to him. His parents had confronted him, unable to understand their strange offspring, or why he had turned to darker fixations. Why he had felt the need to create an army of mannequins. Chiyo's lips tightened as a familiar weight settled deep within her chest. The crushing regret of being unable to save her family from their own fates. The Moraie had shown her nothing of their impending dooms. She had been completely blinded by love to the warning signs that Sasori would someday lose his senses and lash out. She had adored him so fiercely that she had refused to believe him to be capable of true evil and harm.
But he had been capable of both. The dreadful day came when he slaughtered his own parents in cold blood and immortalised them as puppets. When a grieving Chiyo had confronted him about the abhorrent horrors he had committed, he had merely looked upon her with serene, calm, unfeeling eyes, and emotionlessly responded that she would be next if she dared to interfere.
How had he transformed from such innocence into a monster? Chiyo had spent millennia scouring her agonised mind for answers, yet still had none to that day. He had been loved and cherished - although perhaps never fully understood. Had it simply been the nature of his function that had taken control of him, blighting out all inherent goodness? Had he been a victim, damned by the role of manipulation which The Moraie had assigned to him? Perhaps his genius had been too great for his own mind to bear. Perhaps it had deformed his ability to rationalise and tampered with his sanity. She had never seen him again in person following that fateful day, and had harboured a great resentment toward The Fates for what had felt like an abject betrayal of her devotion to them.
How could they have failed to warn her of the demise of her own kin? But she had known, deep in her heart, that it was for the very same reason that she had not been given premonition in the matter. She would not have been capable of standing idly by, doing nothing. She would have surely defied her own function to save the lives of her son, his wife and prevented her cherished Sasori from falling to ruin. The Fates' silence had ensured she lived on. Ruthless - and yet an undeniable protection all the same.
Her Titan grandson had shortly thereafter met another golden-haired Titan by the name of Menoitus, and abandoned all ties to his home. Instead of protecting the inhabitants of the village as his father had before him, Sasori had chosen to disown humanity and gone into exile, actions that had skewered Chiyo's heart. She had mourned his departure. It had felt to her like a death in its own right. Through Menoitus he had eventually come into the company of other Titans who supported Cronus's claim to Olympus and inevitably ended up aiding him in the wretched war against the Olympians.
Who knew what rewards Cronus had promised him? What sinister, seductive poison he had whispered into Sasori's ears to secure his allegiances?
Her eyes stung with bitter tears that had long since been spent. She could still recall his tragic end vividly in her mind's eye. She remembered without fault the instant he had been sealed away by the Totsuka blade wielded by Thanatos of the Uchiha - how her heart had shattered and bled as she had helplessly watched the war unfolding from a distance as she had tended to the mortally wounded Persephone - up until the final moment she had found herself standing at the very edge of Tartarus before Sasori's prison had been cast into the flames.
~x~
Pain exploded through his chest.
It hit him like a bolt of lightning. Piercing, crippling, it stabbed outwards like ruthless, jagged ice, crackling through every screaming nerve-fibre in his exhausted body. A depth of agony that snatched the very breath from his burning lungs.
Crimson droplets spattered before his eyes into the air - air that was rife with the thick smoke of raging flames and the death, decay and debris of a needless war. Crimson. His own spilled blood, coughed up through parched lips, as the razor-sharp fragment of chaos-infused darkness that Cronus had hurtled at him just as he had leapt from the summit penetrated straight through his sternum.
He spun rapidly through the air, free-falling, the savage momentum of the infuriated Titan's final paralysing attack knocking him briefly off balance. Gritting his teeth, he braced against the physical hurt, ignoring the blood that was pooling into punctured lungs that rattled for air, ignoring the way his eyes, struggling for scraps of the last vestiges of chakra he possessed, wept crimson tears.
There was no time, he knew, for hesitation. For emotions and thoughts and regrets of any kind. No time to draw a breath. No time even to dislodge the life-devouring shard out of his chest.
No time to slow down for even a second.
Lifting his hands, he rapidly formed sacred seals, Cronus's enraged yells and curses of his name fading out to oblivion as he kept assessing eyes fixed firmly on the Titans wreaking havoc on the battle-field far below. Three of them had been subdued by the Olympians. The rest were still locked in combat.
It mattered not. Every single one of them had already been marked by Zeus without their knowledge.
Marked for reaping with Hiraishin's seal.
Thanatos withdrew the kunai he had kept carefully concealed at his belt and ignoring the agony in his body, took his aim, flinging it into the air with lethal accuracy, vanishing simultaneously after it in a blinding flurry of movement. Propelled forward at the lightning speed the technique lended to those few disciplined enough to harness it - the breath-taking speed of Zeus himself.
He warped swiftly about the battlefield, an invisible blur to all eyes, stabbing each marked Titan with the Totsuka blade before they could even detect him, violently wrenching their souls from bodies that disintegrated within seconds to dust as they were sucked into a genjutsu prison. He glimpsed the incredulous eyes of the Olympians, blind to their unsung, unseen saviour, their apparent confusion at the sudden deterioration of their formidable foes.
After the last Titan was captured, Thanatos landed roughly on the ground behind a concealed barrier of destroyed earth and rock, his usual grace compromised by the venom ravishing his blood-stream. Stabbing his blade into the earth to anchor himself on his hands and knees, he breathed raggedly to fill his lungs with air. Harnessing Hiraishin had almost robbed him entirely of what little remaining chakra he possessed. Wearily, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the earth for but a second before an angry shout rang in his ears, alerting him to the fact that he had been discovered. He lifted his heavy head just in time to spot an Olympian soldier stepping out from around the surrounding pile of debris to charge straight at him.
"Underworld scum!" He yelled, drawing back his blade - only to stiffen when Thanatos' crimson eyes blinked and met his gaze for a split-second, immediately disabling the soldier by trapping him in the strongest illusion his dwindling chakra reserves allowed him to cast. Weak, by his lethal standards - and yet his Sharingan did not fail him. The Olympian toppled backwards, paralysed, and Thanatos let him be. He had neither the strength nor the will to kill innocents any further.
Enough. His weapons and armour and clothing, his hands and his conscience, they were all blood-stained enough.
His gaze then trailed to his surroundings, finding himself in the midst of an endless graveyard of bodies. A scene of utter ruin, desolation and despair. His eyes, stinging with blood, watered as he looked upon the lifeless faces of Olympians and his kin laying slain upon the charred grass. Their lives forfeited, the cost of a greedy usurper's pursuit of a crown.
His body was slowly freezing over from the inside, the elemental chaos leaching out from the shard poisoning his bloodstream with every passing second. The tips of his fingers, still closed around his trusty blade's hilt, prickled, turning numb. The world was beginning to spin dangerously on its axis, a thoroughly unsettling sensation that was wholly unfamiliar to one so accustomed to being in absolute control. Blinking rapidly, Thanatos fought against the pleading of his heavy limbs to rest. If he rested there, he knew he would not find the strength to rise again. And he could not rest, not until he had fulfilled his duty.
Not until he knew for certain that Hades was the last of them. That he was safe.
Hades. His eyes blurred once more, this time with hot tears. How desperately he wished to see Sasuke one last time. To look upon his beloved younger brother's face. To speak all the words that had been so cruelly robbed from him by The Fates themselves. To plead his forgiveness for what horrors he had already committed and what more he was forced to do before he departed the living world and left Hades behind, forever. Alone. Confused. Angry. Crushed. Broken.
How could he think of his own pain - one that would soon end - when his brother's suffering would linger on for centuries?
Where was he, on this forsaken battlefield? Too weak and disorientated to sense or call to him, he could not tell.
Familiar hands grabbed at his shoulders, hauling him upwards. A heavily wounded Hypnos grabbed onto the end of the shard, ignoring the way it burned right through his gloved hand and charred his flesh as he yanked the jagged formation angrily out of his cousin's chest with every last bit of strength he possessed. The breath seized in Thanatos' lungs and his vision exploded to white as he toppled forward, almost collapsing from the anguish, but Hypnos's arm caught around his shoulders, yanking him backwards, supporting his weight.
"Hold on... Itachi," he said hoarsely, pressing his forehead to his cousin's right temple as he willed him to endure. "I will... transport us... back. The throne... will lend you enough strength... for us to end this!"
Sasuke. The relief of being reunited with his cousin was short-lived as thoughts of his brother filled Thanatos with desperation. The name was loaded on the tip of his tongue, and yet the simple act of speaking seemed far too difficult to muster. He could not inhale without agony crippling his chest. It crushed around his windpipe, a merciless fist of iron.
As he had often done in the many years spent in one another's company, his cousin read his thoughts.
"Sasuke… is safe," Hypnos confirmed that he had seen the youngest of their clan, and the words caused Thanatos to sag back against him in relief. "They shielded him… as I commanded. There is no time. We must go."
Inky black wisps of shadow bled around their forms before swallowing them whole, whisking them away from the battlefield, warping them between worlds. Too chakra depleted and wounded to sustain the momentum for long, they landed unceremoniously in the middle of the Underworld's imposing throne room and for a few exhausted seconds, lay sprawled and motionless on the ground.
With great difficulty, Hypnos forced himself to his knees. Winding his cousin's arm around his shoulders, he rose to his feet, pulling Thanatos up with him up, and began to stagger toward the ornately carved onyx throne. It loomed at the top of the royal dais ahead of them, both a curse and their salvation.
The pull of the throne was immense, a gravitational force that compelled him forward. Thanatos felt its dark allure, heard its deafening whispers as it enticed him to venture closer, holding the promise of the very power he had been raised from a young age to believe was his birthright to inherit. Hand-picked as Cronus' successor shortly after his own abilities had manifested, the God of Death had always known that the Titan had never intended to relinquish his sovereignty over their realm. Assigning the title of heir apparent to Thanatos had merely been a political ruse to restrict his freedom, to keep him burdened with responsibilities and to ensure he was closely monitored at court at all times.
It was a role that Thanatos had obediently accepted was his duty to bear, but one he had never desired or particularly wanted. Solemn, quiet-natured, kind-hearted and gentle in temperament, he had always wished for a simple life, free from the excess greed, arrogance and over-indulgent leisure pursuits most young immortals his age chased after. He had only ever wanted peace, his cherished family's well-being, the pursuit of knowledge and the bettering of a corrupt world, and perhaps, if The Fates saw fit, to someday have a family of his own.
What The Fates had served to him, however, had been quite the opposite and he had quickly learned that it was not possible to desire anything for himself. Those wishes had been but mirages, foolish dreams of a boy-deity forced to mature far too soon. Dreams that had been shattered, hopes for an unburdened existence that he had discarded along with childish naivety far too long ago to recall.
He had lived never for himself, only as a pawn and a weapon that served his function and his kin. There had not been any room for personal wishes and ambitions. His priority was to protect Hades and to secure stability in all realms for as long as possible, following a most catastrophic war. There was nothing else and he had long since resigned himself to a cold, bleak existence, warmed only by the sun of Sasuke's precious smiles. Smiles that had turned to scowls as of late. Smiles that Thanatos wished would someday illuminate his brother's face again, though he would not be alive to witness them.
Tremors quivered through Hypnos's legs. His lungs heaved, his body dangerously close to caving in entirely, still bearing the viscous brunt of the Demon Fox's wound. But still he pushed valiantly onward, ignoring his own suffering, his mind singularly focused on completing the final phase of their assignment. The Kyuubi had been sealed away. Cronus was trapped on the summit. The first part of their plan had worked - though they had both barely escaped with their lives intact. Now all that remained was to lock away the Titans within the deepest pits of Tartarus itself, and bind their own souls within the seal to ensure they could never be revived again.
After sacrificing themselves, only Hades would remain. The sole survivor of the Uchiha and inheritor of the crown and all their gifts. Hades, who would someday grow powerful enough to avenge them.
At length they reached the dais and Hypnos dragged them up the steps until at last he reached the top of the platform and with a grunt of effort, lowered Thanatos as gently as he could into the seat of power, immediately collapsing to his knees beside the throne. Panting, he then raised exhausted eyes to his cousin's slumped form to find Thanatos's head tilted back. His eyes beneath the gilded onyx mask were closed and his hands gripped the arm-rests of the throne tightly.
The air hitched in Hypnos's throat as the throne eagerly acknowledged the ascension of its new and rightful ruler. He watched as delicate wisps of shadow gathered above Thanatos's head, from which materialised a hovering, slender, rotating onyx crown, symbolising the transfer of power to the next sovereign of the kingdom. The crown briefly glowed silver, before disintegrating into thin air.
Thanatos released a quiet breath, his heavy-lashed eyes finally opening as the throne, forged by Cronus himself, lent him strength, bleeding shadows as it restored his chakra, steadily healing his wounds, negating the chaos that had been poisoning his blood-stream. A dreadful power hummed through his veins, the entire realm his to command at will, the burden of rule settling like shackles around his wrists, his ankles, his throat. At last, he had inherited the coveted crown of the Underworld - albeit under the most horrific of circumstances.
His vision restored to full clarity, Thanatos turned stormy-grey eyes up to the throne room's magnificent ceiling, fixing onto the brilliant, gently swaying crystal droplets that hung from one of the enormous, glittering chandeliers. His reign, he knew, would be short-lived. Only long enough to use the king's power to remove the barriers cast around Tartarus and to lock the Titans away for eternity.
Hypnos released a short, tired chuckle before resting his forehead against the side of the throne, finally allowing himself a moment to lower his guard.
"Not quite... the spectacular coronation we had in mind," he remarked wryly, a small smile curving his lips. The mild humour a half-hearted attempt to disguise the dire grimness of their situation.
Thanatos blinked and wordlessly reached out, placing a hand gently atop his loyal cousin's unruly head of dark hair, commanding the throne to heal him in turn, to fully mend the damage ambrosia alone could not undo. Hypnos quietly exhaled, the strength returning to his limbs as the pain that had been ravaging his body gradually ebbed and melted away. He then got to his feet, gripping the back of the throne, clear in mind and in resolve.
"Thank you, Itachi."
The death deity gave him a brief nod before rising from the throne, and lifted an upturned left palm. From it materialised a single black crow, born of shadow. It perched on the onyx and gold vambrace fastened around Thanatos' forearm, obediently awaiting further instruction. Without a moment of hesitation, he raised his free hand to dispel the gilded onyx mask that had been concealing his face, and brought his fingers to his right eye.
Hypnos swallowed, averting his gaze, uncomfortable and unable to watch as his kin bit his tongue and gouged out his own Sharingan, blinding himself in one eye and spilling thick rivulets of crimson blood down the right side of his face. The aloof and ever-composed Thanatos allowed no sound of pain to escape his lips, his slightly bowed head the only indication that he was in any extreme discomfort as blood pooled into his palm.
Wordlessly, he implanted the eye into the crow, sealing it safely within his faithful summon.
"I would have given you my own eyes," Hypnos said, the corners of his lips turned downwards in sadness. "In a heartbeat, had there been any way for us to survive this. If one of us could have live on-"
A hand gripped his shoulder, breaking him off mid-sentence, for Thanatos perfectly understood his sentiments, without the need for his cousin to verbalise them. They were sentiments reflected in his own heart, the ties of brotherhood between them a steadfast, unbreakable bond. He would have gladly laid down his life to protect his older cousin's had there been any other way out for them. But there were none. The only way to trap the Titans away for good, to ensure they could never be extracted from their prison, was to bind their own life forces into the workings of the seal.
The crow released a loud caw and diminished into thin air, carrying the eye to its commanded location. Across oceans and seas, leagues away from where they stood, to a place that was deeply hidden from their enemy. A place that Hades would eventually discover, if their carefully crafted plans came to fruition.
Thanatos lifted his palm to the wound at his eye-socket, sealing it off to stem the bleeding, before meeting his cousin's gaze with his remaining eye.
"It is time," he murmured.
~x~
They alighted at the edge of Tartarus in a flurry of crow feathers, and together stared down at the bubbling infernal pit, a horrifying, fiery chasm of endless torment and suffering. The atmosphere was laden with the suffocating, acrimonious, burning stench of sulphur. Oppressive heat blasted up out of the gaping hell mouth, tossing their hair and dark cloaks about them. Around them, glowing embers of flame and geysers surrounding the furnace spewed hot smoke, ash and tiny sparks of fire into the air.
Thanatos blinked, holding out a hand to summon the two-pronged royal spear into existence. It materialised into his palm from shadow, responding to the call of the king. Hypnos looked on as he held it aloft, using his absolute dominion over the realm to murmur the ancient words that would disable the eight glowing seals carved into the chasm's walls, seals that held the chakra barriers surrounding Tartarus firmly in place. Unbreachable, they prevented any of the damned from escaping the boiling pit - unless the monarch of the realm used the spear to remove the seals.
The severing of the barrier sent a hissing, forceful plume of smoke gusting into the atmosphere. The heat around them intensified and crackling, scorching lava spewed up, glowing brighter than before. The flames of hell burned with vengeance, unchecked, eager to consume their next victims.
Thanatos stabbed the spear into the cracked ground, preparing to command it to close the barriers once more right after they had completed the sealing of the Titans. Just before he drew his last breath.
"Itachi."
Thanatos blinked, lips tightening to form a thin line, for he knew what followed. He had dreaded this very moment. It was better, easier, if Hypnos did not speak at all, if he allowed them to simply carry out their duty, and yet he knew his kin far too well to know that him remaining silent as they stood at the precipice of their own dooms was wishful thinking. They would be his final words, the last words they ever spoke to one another. He owed it to his cousin, after growing up together, after everything they had been through together, to listen, even if he could not muster any words of parting himself.
"Forgive me," Hypnos apologised, his tone full of regret. "I am the eldest of us. I should have found a way to shoulder this burden alone. Instead, I dragged you into it, in the name of attaining peace. Had I been a true brother to you, I would have shielded you from involvement in this. The way you took everything upon yourself to protect Sasuke."
"You are mistaken, Shisui," Thanatos replied quietly. "We both wished to avert this war."
"And I believed we could. I believed that in working with Olympus, we would find a way to overthrow Madara and save our kin. But they are all lost. Zeus and Hera sacrificed their lives, and now we, too, shall fade away with them." His eyes lowered, full of remorse. "It is my fault that Sasuke was threatened. I am to blame for the blood you have spilled, for the deaths of my uncle and aunt. I am the one who asked you to work with me."
"No." Thanatos answered. "Madara alone is to blame."
Had they not acted, Hades would have already perished along with the rest. And to Thanatos, Sasuke's life was the most precious of all, the one that needed to be preserved above all else. Pain stabbed through his heart, ruthless and slicing as he acknowledged his own hypocrisy. What protection would he afford his little brother with his own death? He would leave him in a sea of calamity, fling him into the hands of catastrophe. The crushing weight of the crown would fall upon Hades' head the moment Thanatos drew his last breath. All their clan's responsibilities would fall to their youngest alone to command and handle. An impossible, overwhelming task for one so ignorant and untrained, for one so unprepared for ascension.
Every freedom he had once enjoyed to roam carefree between the surface and Underworld would be robbed from him when the shadows rose to claim and consume him. They would fashion him into a being as cold and hard as granite stone, bitter and angry and starved of love.
No, Thanatos thought to himself. Shisui was wrong. He was no protector. He could not protect Hades in his greatest hour of need, from the horrors of reality, of waking up and realising that he was truly all alone, with nobody to turn to for answers, not knowing why he had been the only one amongst them spared. Thanatos had not even had the opportunity to beg Hades's forgiveness for their parents' deaths. Sasuke would live on, resenting him forever, when everything Thanatos had been forced to plan and carry out had been in the name of ensuring his brother's survival. The injustice and hurt of knowing that he would be loathed for eternity by the very one he loved more than anything in the world pierced like a savage skewer through his aching heart.
It was too late for apologies, too late for regrets. Resigned to his fate, and exhausted from the oppressive burdens he had carried for far too long on his own young shoulders, Thanatos longed to rest, to leave the mantle of the Uchiha to Hades. He had done enough, and could do no more, could give no more than his own life to save and empower his brother. It would be difficult, but Hades would learn. Thanatos had entrusted Hecate herself with ensuring he endured. And he had every faith that Sasuke would. The shock of the experience would surely break him - and then re-make him, molding him in iron resilience.
One day, he would grow into a fine, just king, more capable than any of them had ever been. One day, he would recover and rise and seek vengeance for their kin. One day.
An arm slipped around his shoulder, and Thanatos allowed himself to be turned as his cousin pressed his forehead against his.
"Thank you, Itachi," he smiled, closing his eyes to fight back the tears that threatened to fall. "For your loyalty. For your company, your wisdom and for being my shield, my brother and my friend. For standing beside me, until the very end. You have taught me patience and what it means to truly endure. It has been… the highest of honours, to call you my kin."
Thanatos swallowed and closed his own eyes, allowing himself but a brief moment to feel the surge of grief and turmoil that ravaged his heart. It swirled like a maelstrom within his chest, an agonising tightness that weighed him down like lead. He grieved for Hypnos, knowing that he would lose him the same way he was losing Hades. He grieved for all their lives, for the memories they were deprived of making together.
There was much he wanted to communicate in return. How it also pained him that Shisui was required to sacrifice his own existence for the sake of achieving a temporary respite of peace and restoring balance to the world. That the honour of having him as family had been all his. That he was grateful, and could not have asked for a more steadfast and reliable brother.
Over the many centuries of their young immortal lives, Shisui had been his best friend, his sparring-partner and constant companion, offering patience, wisdom, understanding, advice, sharp wit and humour on the bleakest, most trying of days.
Thanatos wished, in that moment, that he could freely express how much Hypnos had taught him. That his cousin had saved him in childhood, when his soul-reaping powers had first come to manifest, when he had felt all alone in the world, haunted by the incessant, frightening whispers of the dead. When he had been unable to find any reprieve until Shisui had mercifully enforced sleep upon him. The many hours they had spent in each other's company, competing and sparring, honing their skills or seeking out knowledge in books and scrolls and fulfilling their closely entwined functions. Or simply sitting contentedly in companionable silence beneath the shades of trees, or atop grassy hills or by the edges of tranquil rivers on the surface, watching the stars and contemplating the mysteries of the universe, of creation, of lore and warfare and of humanity and the gods.
But all the words he sought were lodged in his throat. His tongue could not form them. To speak them aloud would open the floodgates of dejection. Shisui's life, just like his own, would shortly end before it had even truly begun. Never would he rise to the ranks of the right hand of the crown, the king's most trusted advisor and general. Never would he enquire after the dark-haired surface goddess that Thanatos had silently caught him directing subtle, inconspicuous looks at during several Olympian festivals.
Never would he truly live.
But he did not wish for them to despair in their last moments together, not when they had long since understood and accepted their destinies. They had made a pact to always be there for one another, to endure and do whatever it took to complete their mission. Now overlooking the infernal pit, they kept true to that vow, the final stand of two brothers.
He opened his eyes, meeting his cousin's gaze.
"Thank you," he said simply, earnestly, the only two words that mattered, two words that conveyed everything. Shisui was with him in his final moments. He would not face the eternity of death alone, despite being its sole harbinger. That was a comfort to him, at least, knowing that although their souls would be denied a peaceful resting place within the pure realm because they were willingly choosing to self-destruct and terminate their own lives - that they would at least perish together.
"For peace," Hypnos said, squeezing his shoulder tightly before he drew back, readying himself to cast the final workings of an ancient seal unknown even to the mighty Cronus himself. A twelve-part seal that utilised forbidden, dark-art space-time elements to trap and anchor a target to a specified location forevermore, which Zeus had carefully explained the mechanism of and taught to them. "For Sasuke."
Thanatos nodded. He was ready. And yet, as his beloved little brother's face drifted in his mind's eye once more, he suddenly felt ill-prepared. It had to be done, he reminded himself. To linger was dangerous. To linger was to risk wavering in resolve.
He curled ring-adorned fingers around the ornate hilt of Totsuka. Anything it pierced was trapped away within a world of illusion from which only Thanatos himself could release and reverse. At his command, the metal of the sword erupted into flame, and with a circular flourish of his arm, formed a stone gourd containing within it the confined forms of the Titans that had aligned themselves with Cronus.
They were Ares, the vindictive, violent God of War. Eris, the Goddess of Discord and Strife who was ever by his side. Menoitus who embodied rage and delighted in creating explosions. Oceanus who had once commanded the seas, furious when they had been passed into Poseidon's custody. Perses, The Destroyer, who brutally ripped hearts out of chests and commanded every element through the use of deities he had sealed within masks. Dolos, God of Manipulation whose chakra was capable of turning his victims into puppets and the foul-mouthed Momos who scorned and ridiculed the Olympians.
The glowing red gourd floated at chest level before them. Hypnos gave his kin a grim nod, and lifted his hands. Thanatos did the same, and they began the combinations in perfect tandem.
Twelve signs. A Death Contract to trap seven Titan souls, a contract of such immense power that it required the sacrifice of two souls to perform. Thanatos, as Totsuka's master, was the only one capable of re-opening the prison. With his death, the sword - tied to his own life-force - would be rendered useless and remain in gourd form, incapable of being unsealed and reverted to its original form. Hypnos's soul was the trade that would cement the death contract, ensuring the Titans were disabled forever inside.
In binding their spirits to the Titans within and committing suicide through use of the forbidden Death Contract, Hypnos and Thanatos would ensure that neither the Titans nor themselves could ever be forcibly resurrected. And for good measure, they would discard the gourd into the lowest level of hell itself, protected by the multiple barriers that surrounded Tartarus. A level no living immortal could find, accessible only to the rightful king of the Underworld.
They wove the third sign, and the fourth, each one bringing them closer to their own demises, each one stealing the strength from their veins and bones. Their blood turned to fire, corroding them from within as the seal reached its ninth working. Hypnos coughed up blood. Crimson dripped from Thanatos's nose. Still they continued on.
Shuffling footsteps scraped against gravel behind them at the tenth seal, but they had not the strength to turn to look upon the grave, saddened face of the goddess Hecate who had alighted behind them, joining them in their final moments. She began to reach out to them with time-worn, trembling hands, as if she sought to pull them back from the brink of their own destruction, to halt and reverse their noble, heroic sacrifices. But she could not. It was already far too late.
Tears welled in her eyes as her hands changed course and instead lifted to clasp together before her chest. She mourned them, and the grandson sealed within the stone-cold prison.
"Forgive me... children of Night," she said hoarsely, drowning in sorrow and remorse. For long had it been since she had known of the cruelty of their fates and long had she known of the actions she would - and could not take - to aid them in their plight.
Those were the final words Hypnos and Thanatos of the Uchiha heard before the last, fatal seal was formed, marking them with irreversible death. Their bodies immediately tensed and lurched forward, as if their souls were being physically wrenched from their chests by an invisible, undeniable force. The gourd glowed a furious, fiery orange. Thanatos's hand instinctively shot out, gripping the pronged spear before him, using the last vestiges of his strength and final seconds as king to command it to seal Tartarus shut once the gourd was tossed inside.
Then they collapsed lifelessly to the ground at the edge of the pit. Hypnos landed on his back and Thanatos on his front, their heads turned toward one another. A lone tear spilled down Shisui's cheek as he witnessed the life diminish in Itachi's remaining eye. He tried in vain to reach out with a trembling hand, attempting to offer comfort to his dying kin in his final moments - but paralysis had seized his body, and it was already too late. The light had left his cousin's eye, his soul claimed by the forbidden death seal. Seconds later, Shisui took his own last, shuddering breath - before growing still in turn.
Hecate looked upon the fallen youths in grieving silence as the power that had held the stone gourd suspended in mid-air faded and it fell into her waiting hands.
~x~
She waded waist-deep into Lethe's waters, pulling the sturdy wooden boats containing the bodies of Thanatos and Hypnos behind her with chakra strings.
Following their tragic passing, Hecate had honoured their sacrifices by arranging for them to be cleansed, embalmed, perfumed and dressed in jewels and regal finery by servants in the palace before venturing out alone to lay their bodies to rest at the sacred, eternal river that encircled the Blessed Isles of Elysium. Though their souls were damned and barred from the Pure Realm due to deliberate suicide, she was determined that the bodies left behind would be granted the highest of honours and would not be allowed to simply wither away at the edge of Tartarus.
It was said that any immortal corpse released into Lethe's waters would never again be found, became crystallised for eternity and impervious to decomposition as soon as it sank beneath the surface. Forever untouched by the ravages of time.
Such a burial seemed fitting for two valiant princes of the royal family who had laid down their lives in the name of peace. To be immortalised in their youth and beauty forevermore, immune to perishing to dust. They lay within the boats, surrounded by fragrant, beautiful midnight, violet and ivory Underworld blooms taken from Nyx's gardens, their faces concealed by elaborate masks similar to those they had worn while living. Their ring-adorned hands, arranged to rest on their chests, were closed around the ornate hilts of ceremonial swords bearing the Uchiha crest.
Hecate turned back to them, gazing down at their motionless forms with sadness before she reached out to touch both their foreheads gently. A terrible price they had paid. Young lives torn apart by war and pain, laid down to rest before they had even had the chance to attain true happiness.
Guilt consumed her. Her eyes blurred with fresh tears, considering what might have been had they lived on. Bright futures filled with peace and love, stolen away by the greed and war-mongering of a heartless Titan.
"May you rest in peace, noble young princes," she whispered, then pushed the boats gently out into the river, watching with a heavy heart as the ethereal, milky current carried them silently away before swallowing them into its waters for eternity.
~x~
Chiyo blinked, roused from her recollections by the hooting of the owl in its open bird-cage behind her. On that fateful day, everything had changed. On that day, she had begun to fulfil the promise she had made to young Thanatos, to guard and watch over his beloved Hades always.
But it seemed The Fates had other plans, the troubling words they had communicated to her full of foreboding.
And there was nothing she could do to intervene.
~x~
"There's nothing here," Karin stepped through the overgrown, tangled reeds that lined the perimeter of the lake. They had resurfaced in a large cavern that seemed devoid of any inhabitants except hibernating bats - the culprits responsible for the faint, deceptive chakra traces she had detected from a distance beneath the waves.
"Just like all the rest," Suigetsu's eyebrows furrowed. "Man, this blows. You have any idea how many caves I've gone through that look just like this one? It's getting old. I even sent my sirens out scouting, and every single one came up empty." He scratched at his platinum head in open bemusement. "How the fuck has this bastard hidden his hideout so well that it's taking everyone forever to find it?"
"It's not called a hideout for nothing, you idiot," Karin muttered sarcastically under her breath.
Suigetsu shot her an amused look. "Heh. Smartass. That's almost funny, coming from you."
He took a seat on a flat-topped boulder and Karin eyed him, suspicious and confused. Why was he getting comfortable? They had found nothing. It was time to move on, surely?
"What're you doing?" she demanded.
"What's it look like?" he tilted his head at her, his eyes glowing luminous amethyst in the dimness. "I'm drinking water." Raising his bottle to her, he goaded, "Four eyes and still blinder than all the bats here, huh?"
"Shut up," she snapped, folding her arms crossly against her chest. "What's with you and your stupid water, anyway?"
"Uh… I rule it?" He retorted. "Duh."
"I mean," Karin ground out through clenched teeth, "why're you always slurping on a stupid bottle?"
"Haven't you asked me that before? It keeps me hydrated and epic," Suigetsu smiled widely. "Stops me getting all crabby. Maybe you need some water inside you, too. It feels reeeeeal good when it goes through your-" He spluttered as she aimed a ferocious kick straight at his head, liquifying at the final second so that her foot passed right through him instead.
With a chuckle, he then solidified, gripping hold of her right ankle before jerking upwards, sending her sprawling onto her back on the gravelly ground. Then he leaned forward, peering down at her.
"Might wanna work on that shitty aim," he grinned.
Karin gaped up at him in shock, her cheeks prickling with heat as she scrambled quickly back up to her feet, feeling utterly humiliated.
"You suck. I've got sea turtles that hit better than that," he added.
Her cheeks blazed and she battled the urge to swing a wild punch at his smug face, knowing the same result would repeat itself. He would never give her the satisfaction of connecting an actual hit. The bastard. When he simply smirked at her and took another irritating slurp from his bottle, she turned her back dismissively to him, trying to regain her composure.
It was difficult when he was so uncouth, lacking in all tact, brash and unbearable. Was there even a single redeeming quality that he possessed? She doubted it. They had been travelling together for just over a week, and in that span of time, he had already driven her to despair with his ceaseless, snarky attempts at dragging her into banter and getting under her skin.
It was a relief whenever they surfaced to investigate any spikes in chakra that Karin detected above the oceans. At least then, they could focus on their mission instead of antagonising each other. She began to pace back and forth, feeling restless and on edge, the way she always did whenever they were completely alone and a heavy, smothering silence fell between them.
"Stop that," his eyes narrowed, irked by her inability to keep still. "Have you got ants in your pants or something?"
"You're an asshole," she snapped.
"You mad 'cause I floored you?" He snorted. "You tried to kick me first. What'd you think would happen?"
"Shut up. Why are you sitting around here when there's nothing in this stupid cave? We don't have time to waste."
"Actually, we do." Suigetsu drawled. "We're taking a break. Sit down."
She turned to him, opening her mouth to protest.
"We've been going non-stop since dawn," he reminded her, before she could voice any argument. "Last thing I need is you burning out on me. That ability of yours has gotta be draining."
"I'm fine," she answered, her tone blunt. Any fatigue she was starting to feel from straining to track chakra signatures as they travelled was something she was willing to bear if it meant completing their journey together sooner.
"Just sit the fuck down, you stubborn bitch," he rolled his eyes. "Five minutes isn't gonna make the world go to shit."
"I don't need to rest-"
"I do," he lied, losing patience. "Now shut the fuck up and give me two minutes of peace, will ya?"
With great reluctance she finally relented, taking a seat on a low boulder adjacent to - but a safe distance away from - where he sat. She turned her eyes up to the roof of the cave, where the reflections from the ripples of water danced mesmerizingly upon jagged layers of rock.
Suigetsu's eyes shifted to watch her as he downed another gulp of water. Her hair had always been a garish, almost offensive shade of red, thoroughly uncommon for river nymphs. Her eyes were just as strange in hue, a clear shade of ruby. She was a contradiction, a mixture of fire and ice and it was a source of great entertainment for him to guess which of the two extremes she would display at any given moment. He was convinced she was bipolar, hinging from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other with absolutely no middle ground in between.
Her posture, he noted with keen interest, was far too tense. Why was she so uptight all the time? Suigetsu found himself thinking that perhaps she would be a lot more tolerable if she actually relaxed and allowed herself to have fun for a change.
She hadn't always been such a prude. She had once been gutsy, wild and impulsive. He knew that from experience. It had been what had initially caught his attention, along with her vibrant colourings. What had made her change and clam up to everything around her? Why was she so distrustful of everything and everyone?
He entertained taking advantage of their pause to antagonise her further. It was one of his favourite things to do, seeing how much he could rile her up and wind her up before she snapped. But he thought better of it, and instead decided to voice a question, the answer to which had eluded him for centuries.
"What happened to you?"
She blinked, her spine growing rigid as she straightened and turned an irritated scowl in his general direction. "What?"
"What happened to you?" he repeated. "I mean, why'd you leave the surface to begin with? Don't give me a shitty reason about falling for that emotionally constipated bastard. I wanna hear the real one."
Karin's heart lurched. He was looking at her intently, without the hint of any usual amusement or disdain on his features. He was looking at her seriously, truly looking at her, in a transparent manner that she wasn't used to being seen. A way that suggested he was genuinely interested in hearing about her story.
She gulped, unsettled by his sudden interest. Her hands curled into fists in her lap. Like she was going to confide in him. Why would she? They were nothing to one another, and besides, he would likely just use it against her, to provoke her anyway.
"Like you care," she deflected dismissively.
He surprised her by responding, "How about you just answer the damn question for once?" He lifted a long, lean leg, perching the heel of his sneaker atop the rock's edge in order to rest his elbow upon his kneecap. "I let you stay down in that dump for centuries. But why'd you go? You told me ages ago that Sasuke saved your life. Who was trying to kill you?"
Karin was silent. Nobody had been trying to kill her, not exactly. She had merely reached a point where she could no longer stand her own self and body, overcome with disgust and self-loathing at what and who she was. After enduring centuries of mistreatment in which her own kind had rejected her, and humans had used and abused her for their own selfish gains, she'd had enough.
To that moment, she had known no other ocean nymphs like her. Many could track within the water - but beyond it? She had always been made to feel like an abomination. Wherever she swam beneath the waves, other nymphs would hastily scatter or whisper amongst themselves, casting judgemental eyes at her that had made her feel worthless, filthy, as though she were something wholly unnatural. And when the mortal lovers she had indulged in her desperation to feel connection had eventually discovered the euphoric, rejuvenating properties that accompanied biting into her skin, she had been hounded, locked up, paraded around villages as a miracle cure for ailments, sold from one owner to the next for hefty sums of money like there had been no value to her life other than being a faceless possession for mortals.
She had lost all sense of her identity, her dignity, all sense of belonging anywhere. Not on the surface. Not beneath the waves. Angry with the world and with how it had treated her, she'd had no purpose or direction. Her eagerness for love and acceptance had driven her into the wrong, abusive arms. She had been a naive fool.
Eventually she had snapped, forced to commit murder in order to make her escape from the last brute of a man who had kept her chained to the wall of a dark, squalid cell as though she had been nothing more than a slave, fed scraps of food to keep her alive.
Perhaps that was how Sasuke had first noticed her. She had never asked him and he had never confirmed it, but she had taken a life back then, and yet had not fallen under his divine jurisdiction to punish. She had always assumed that they met by coincidence, but in hindsight, she knew that everything Sasuke did was deliberate. With him, there were no coincidences. If he had known her to kill, he would have surely investigated why a nymph was being kept prisoner on the surface to begin with, leading him to inevitably learn about her gifts before he had chosen to approach her.
It hadn't just been his looks that had stunned her the moment he had melted out of the shadows and made himself known to her. It hadn't just been those piercing obsidian eyes that had stolen her breath the second they had fixed onto her. It had been his confidence that had seduced her. His deadly, predatory grace. The unmistakable air of danger, temptation and allure that crackled around him. His very chakra signature, dark and potent, threatening and intoxicating and terrifying in equal measures. A man sure of his place, of his own power, of his measure. Perhaps a foolish part of her had believed she could become like that too, if she only followed him.
Suigetsu had no clue. Of course he didn't. She supposed another part of her deep-rooted anger toward him was the result of him being so oblivious to her plight and struggles, to the ways his own subjects had ostracised and rejected her from a young age for being so different to them in both looks and abilities. He had not been aware of her mistreatment, but she had never been able to accept that. Did a true monarch not keep track of the well-being of every single one of their denizens? Even the ones that had fled from their realm? In many ways, she held him responsible for everything she had suffered.
"Nobody," she answered shortly.
"Oh, c'mon," Suigetsu rested back on his hands. "Something must've spooked you off the surface."
"It's none of your business," Karin shot back.
"That shit again? I already told you, it is my business. I'm Poseidon, and you're a river-"
"Stop saying that!" she snapped at him, with such vehemence that he blinked and was immediately silenced. "You only pay attention when it suits you! Don't act like you did me a favour letting me stay in Sasuke's realm, like you ever cared a damn bit! Maybe if you'd been doing a better job of ruling instead of playing all your stupid, stupid games, you'd have figured out why I felt the Underworld was the only place anywhere where I felt safe!"
He stared at her, surprised by the outburst and her revelation. Realising what she had inadvertently allowed to slip from her tongue in anger, Karin clamped her lips shut and inwardly cursed.
Rising to her feet, she turned back toward the lake. "I'm done resting," she said shortly.
"Hey." A hand caught her wrist, causing her stomach to knot. She turned, glancing back over her shoulder to meet Suigetsu's level gaze. He had moved across to her faster than she had been able to blink, and wore a grave expression so alien to her, so unexpected, that she froze to the spot, her heart hammering against her ribcage as if it sought to burst from her chest. The feeling was unwanted. It made her feel sick.
"Why didn't you feel safe?" He demanded, his gaze burning into hers. "Those scars on you… did you let those happen? Because you told me you did. Did you fucking lie to me? What happened to you?"
She lifted her chin, glaring at him. He was much too late to feign any manner of concern. Though he looked serious, she knew him better than to assume he truly cared about the pain she had endured. He cared about nothing except himself.
"I've made it this far without you butting in," she said coldly. "I don't need your stupid pity now."
Then she yanked her arm savagely out of his hold. Without another word, she dove back into the lake, drowning out the opportunity for any further interrogation.
~x~
As Sakura followed the interconnecting, candle-lit, private passageways that led toward the throne room, she acknowledged that she had well and truly relinquished all track of time. How long had it been since her mother had visited? Since Ino had sat with her in her private grove? Time seemed to have suspended entirely, melting away into a rose-tinted haze.
She didn't want to know how many surface months were left until she had to return to the overworld. She had firmly placed all worries about her impending doom to the farthest corner of her mind, and instead allowed herself to revel in the bubble of bliss that had surrounded her and Sasuke. They deserved a fleeting moment of reprieve, after everything they had been through. They had earned happiness and the right to enjoy one another's company in their newfound, blossoming dynamic, even if that happiness hung from the most precarious of threads.
They touched freely and openly when they were alone, stealing kisses wherever and whenever the fancy took them. Twice more the kisses had led to acts of passion that had left her gasping with need and had left him groaning out her name as they rocked and grinded against one another, giving into the inextinguishable flames of lust. Once in the training arena following a difficult battle, where he'd hauled her to him with chakra strings and had his way with her, and the other when she had once again gone looking for him in his chambers, when the inextinguishable hunger in his eyes had seared every inch of her body before he had even laid hands on her, before he had taken her on the rug before the grand fireplace.
Sakura slowly began to learn more of his body as he taught her precisely where he liked to be touched, just as he grew more attuned to hers, following the verbal cues that left her lips that told him exactly how she liked him to handle her.
At the end of their trysts, he would lay in her arms, drowsy and sated, and Sakura would think that she had never known such contentment. To realise that she was the one who gave Sasuke that sanctuary, that sense of security - a place where he could rest, and allow himself to fully relax in her embrace - filled her with unspeakable contentment. Realising her power and influence, her shyness had gradually begun to give way to increasing boldness and confidence. When his onyx eyes locked onto her, the breath would leave her lungs. He made her feel giddy. Desirable. Wanted. Like she was the only woman in the world. Empowering feelings that staved away all her insecurities, prompting her to start to initiate kisses and more daring touches.
What she wanted, he encouraged her to openly take. And just as quickly, he learned how much she could withstand, his kisses growing rougher, his hands growing more demanding, and Sakura found herself relishing every bit of it.
The more time they spent together, the more she felt that they were becoming parts of each other incapable of being extricated from one another's sides. He was her first thought upon waking and her last lingering thought before she drifted to sleep. She found herself yearning to be in his arms every time she went to bed - and yet they were in separate rooms, and she knew his duties often called him to leave the palace when she needed rest.
But Sasuke had also kept true to his word, allowing her the freedom to fight in the training dome alongside him and to accompany him on his tours around the Kingdom. She learned more about each section, discovered new places and saw the realm through the eyes of its ruler. She came to understand precisely how the intricate systems in the Underworld worked, how each part wove seamlessly together like clockwork. It was fascinating, and Sakura found herself so absorbed that she began to contemplate changes that might serve the place better. Modern tweakings that would help the Underworld to run even more efficiently, or lessen the heavy demands on Sasuke's time.
They would discuss the ideas over dinner together, such as the problem of the countless souls that were unable to cross on the river's edge due to not being buried with a coin. Sasuke listened intently, and it delighted Sakura that he was open to solutions. Every mortal soul deserved their final judgement, deserved to reach their final resting place, and it made sense that not everyone was buried with coins anymore given that the worship of the old gods had faded from history itself. That didn't mean humans had to suffer in their afterlife. She had asked him whether the outdated traditions could be replaced so that the souls could be offered passage across some other way?
Sakura smiled faintly to herself, smoothing down the gossamer layers of her midnight-blue gown and lifted a hand to self-consciously check her hair was still in order, before entering the majestic throne room through an ornate side door that led her directly to the throne's platform. An unfamiliar voice drifted to her ears as she stepped out. Realising that Sasuke had an audience, she quietly closed the door behind her, and hesitated despite herself. This was one duty in which she had not joined him too often. Not because she didn't wish to learn about it - but because she found it most difficult to watch.
Sasuke's dark eyes flicked briefly onto her, noticing her arrival immediately. The sight of him, so darkly handsome and formidable on the throne, was something she could never get used to, and Sakura felt her heart quickening as she was treated to a visual reminder of the sheer power commanded over the dead.
Discreetly, he tapped the left arm of the throne twice, indicating for her to stand beside him. Sakura took a deep breath and moved toward him. Stopping at his side she rested her hands on the back of the imposing, black labradorite-cut throne, looking down to find a bearded ginger man who was kneeling before the onyx stairs that climbed up to the royal dais.
"I beg of you, most merciful, most just Lord," the man pleaded. "I plead with you to show me your good clemency. My lesson has been learned, my soul has suffered and I long for nothing more than to take my eternal rest within the heavenly fields, if you find me to be worthy."
"And what," Sasuke questioned, his voice echoing clearly through the magnificent assembly hall, "makes you worthy?"
"I-" the man faltered. "I have repented most sincerely, illustrious Majesty."
"For what sins?" The Underworld's King pressed.
"For... for taking more than was my share," the man responded carefully.
"Theft," Sasuke corrected curtly.
"It- it was not all theft," the mortal stammered, his gaze flicking nervously to Sasuke, then to Sakura, before returning to the Underworld's ruler. "I swear it. Some of the money, I did not know its source, and was not aware that the trade I procured was-"
Sasuke blinked, his features stony, unsympathetic. "Enough," he interrupted, the severity of his voice clapping like thunder. Anthracite eyes narrowed in disapproval. "I granted you an audience, the opportunity to speak the truth one final time. Still you cling to pitiful lies."
"My Lord-" The man trembled. "Please, I beseech you-"
"You have learned nothing," Sasuke dismissed.
"No!" The man leapt to his feet. "Please! I beg of you, just one more chance! Please! I will speak the truth, I swear it! Please!"
Sasuke lifted a single index finger, and a moment later, the screaming man had been consumed by shadows that swallowed him entirely out of sight.
Sakura shuddered as his agonised screams lingered hauntingly in her ears. Her instincts had told her to pity the man. She had been so ready to believe him to be innocent. But evidently he had done something terrible to be dismissed so swiftly, so ruthlessly.
She found the spectacle as awe-inspiring as she had when she'd first witnessed Sasuke judging human souls. His iron will that no soul dared to defy, the finality of his decisions, his intimidating presence on the throne and the way he knew precisely who to forgive and who to condemn. That divine knowledge, she now knew, came as part of his function, and there were strict criteria involved around making a decision. After all, these were human afterlives in his care, which meant he knew precisely which actions they had taken in life - the good, the bad, and the unforgivable. His eyes were capable of reading their actions simply by looking upon their souls.
And yet, she found herself contemplating; when he had listened to his very first petitioner - back when he had still been learning how to perform his role - had he hesitated at all? Surely when he had sentenced the first child to the infernal pits, he must have been swayed by some form of pity? When had his heart hardened to it all?
It seemed to Sakura a dreadfully difficult task that required one to be completely objective and disciplined, free from emotions, uninfluenced by even a sliver of personal bias or any manner of preconceptions. To be immune to being fooled by theatrical displays of remorse. Sasuke's decree was given absolutely. Impartially, without hesitation. He steeled his emotions; whether he was executioner of the damned or saviour of the redeemed, he delivered his verdict without feeling. Sakura, in contrast, wore her heart on her sleeve. She was full of compassion, believed in redemption and hated seeing anyone hurt. As a consequence, she supposed she would be awful at deciding correctly and accurately.
"What was he in life?" she asked.
Sasuke's eyes trailed unhurriedly over her, taking in the flattering gown and sapphire jewels that adorned her form, before meeting her gaze.
"A swindler," he informed her. "A thief who stole from the frail and the poor."
"How do you decide who to grant an audience to?" She tilted her head. "You can't possibly listen to them all?"
"Each sin has its own level of punishment in Tartarus," Sasuke explained. "Depending on the severity, some are tortured in the pits for longer than others. The worst enter and never make it out. Those who also did good in life, are given a chance to repent once their time is complete. Viktor was one such man."
"What good did he do, if he was a thief?" Sakura's eyebrows drew together.
"He honoured his parents until death, and nursed his sick child."
Sakura considered this. "Then why didn't you forgive him? Was everything he said a lie?"
"An act," Sasuke affirmed.
"How can you tell?"
He tossed her a look. "I rule the dead" He said simply. "Watch me pass judgement. You will learn the signs."
"I'm not sure I would. It's not an easy thing to do," Sakura mused. "You have to judge everyone, old and young, and it's hard to think that they're lying when they sound so sorry and upset."
"Hn." He scoffed. "You are too trusting, Sakura."
"It's not just that." Sakura reached out to affectionately smooth down an unruly spike of raven hair atop his head. "I guess I just try to find the good in everyone."
His eyes locked with hers, and a thrill ran down her spine at the intensity of his gaze, fixed solely upon her. The moment was broken when the double doors opened, and another soul entered the throne room, escorted by the armour-clad seraph guards that had accompanied it from Tartarus. Sakura drew her hand back, and turned her attention to the new arrival. A rotund, elderly woman dressed in plain brown garb, who immediately dropped to both knees before the dais to pay her respects as the guards vanished from sight, leaving the soul in the care of the king.
"My exalted Lord," she greeted. Her eyes then flicked onto Sakura, and she hesitated. "And esteemed Lady," she added, causing Sakura to blink in surprise.
A most unsettling thought then occurred to her: what did the souls see when they looked up and found her at Sasuke's side? Did they assume she was his official consort? Queen of the realm? Surely not. She clearly possessed no crown or throne of her own, and yet, the soul had referred to her in equal rank to Sasuke himself. Sakura glanced nervously at him, but his indifferent face revealed nothing of his thoughts about the woman's choice of greeting.
Sakura supposed that they made the assumption that she was someone of importance to be standing by the king's side, and merely referred to her deferentially as an automatic extension of the reverence they paid to the Underworld's ruler. It was unnerving nevertheless.
"Liesl." Sasuke nodded. "Speak your plea."
"Most Exalted of Kings. I repent for my sins," the old woman wasted no time in confessing. "For the atrocious act that I commited. I am filled with shame and see now what I could not back then and humbly seek your forgiveness. I beseech Your Grace to allow me passage to the Blessed Isles so that I may know peace at last. Please," she trembled. "I beg for you to show my weary soul mercy. I beseech you to not banish me again to Hell's flames. I could not bear the pain. Please..."
Sasuke regarded the woman silently.
'Well…?' Sakura then heard his voice echo in her mind, as clear as day, as dark as night. 'What is your verdict, Sakura…?'
Sakura glanced at him, caught off-guard that he had asked her for her opinion. 'I'm... not sure,' she returned telepathically.
'Look closely,' he instructed patiently, not breaking his gaze from the old woman.
Sakura eyed the woman, noting the submissiveness of her body language, how defeated she looked, and the way she had not dared to raise her eyes again as the previous, more brazen soul had. 'I think she's genuine,' she finally decided.
'Why?'
'Because…' Sakura saw that the woman had started to weep as she awaited her verdict. 'I don't know. She looks and sounds so sorry.'
'As the last did to you,' he reminded her.
'You're right. Maybe she's lying, too. I'm not good at this. I don't know how to tell,' Sakura admitted. Her inherent kindness didn't help her adopt a neutral stance.
'Watch her actions.' He prompted, guiding her. 'Listen to her voice. Ask a question that will help you determine her sincerity.'
Sakura hesitated. 'You really want me to talk to her?'
Dark eyes met hers, and he gave her a brief nod, consenting to her interaction with the soul.
Sakura searched her brain for an appropriate question to ask. She didn't really know what she was doing, felt ill-qualified as a mortal to arrive at a decision, but Sasuke clearly trusted her enough to allow her to contribute. Then one suddenly occurred to her. She realised that the woman hadn't spoken about what her sin had actually been.
"What's the crime you commited?" she asked.
The old woman did not lift her face, but bent over to prostrate down further before the throne. "I- I poisoned my husband, My Lady," her voice shook violently. "He had abused me for years. He stole my voice and my sense of worth, and I was a prisoner in my own home. Every night I would live in fear, until one day, I could no longer stand it. After a lifetime of suffering at the hands of his violence and temper, I… I snapped. I murdered him with my own hands." She wept some more, drowning in remorse.
Sakura listened with eyes wide, reminding herself that she couldn't be affected by personal emotions and sympathies. She needed to stay neutral. But it was so difficult, when the woman's words instigated such anger within her own heart. Her story was horrible. She had been a victim, hadn't she? And yet she had been thrown into Tartarus all the same? It seemed harsh, and yet she was certain that Sasuke's verdicts could never be wrong.
Murder was the greatest of sins. But hadn't the woman acted in self-defence? Wasn't there any leniency there?
"He had hurt me, and our children." The woman expanded. "They managed to escape when they became of age but I… I remained. To keep his wrath from them. I make no excuses, your Graces. I see now that it was not my right to take a sacred life, and yet back then, I knew nothing but anger and hatred and my own sorrow. I took his life, wrongly thinking I could restore mine, but I see now, that I committed a most abhorrent act. A sin of which I had to be cleansed."
"You regret ending his life," Sakura asked softly, "even though he made yours miserable?"
"I do," the woman sobbed. "Violence was his sin. But in that moment, it became mine, and I have paid for it."
Sakura stared at her for a long moment. 'I think she's sincere,' she then thought to Sasuke. 'She was a victim. Her husband broke her.'
There was a pause in her mind.
'Am I right?' she glanced down at Sasuke, to find the faintest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. But it was gone when she blinked.
"Your petition is accepted," he informed the soul, confirming that Sakura had arrived at the correct conclusion. "Enter the Isles of the Blessed."
The old lady cried harder, unable to articulate her thanks between her tears. At length she rose, curtsied low, and floated back down the hall, dissipating half-way before she even reached the doors.
"Wow," Sakura smiled widely, gladness filling her heart, pleased that the woman could rest in peace at last. "I can't believe it. I got it right!"
"Hn. Not bad, Sakura," Sasuke said, lifting his left hand expectantly to her. She did not hesitate to slip hers into his - only to gasp in shock when she felt him tug her forward without warning. Before she knew it, she found herself perched in his lap.
"Sasuke!" She flushed deeply, pressing a hand to his chest as his midnight eyes ensnared hers, blazing, all-consuming. His arms locked around her, caging her in place and he dragged the tip of his nose down her right cheek, exhaling a warm breath that elicited perilous tingles in its wake. Sakura glanced toward the imposing double-doors of the throne room far ahead of them, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed that she was sitting on the king's lap for anyone who entered to see.
"Aren't other souls coming?"
"When I permit it," he said nonchalantly, his words a stark reminder of his absolute dominion over everything in his realm, and before she could say anything else, his lips were on hers, and his right hand had moved to grip the outer thigh of her left leg. Where his fingertips rested, the skin burned beneath the fabric of her gown. Sakura closed her eyes, giving into the passion, the heat, the exhilarating, intoxicating rush of his kiss.
"W-wait," she gulped, when he drew back, nibbling on her lower lip, before sucking sensually on the plump flesh. Gripping onto the fabric of his tunic, she said, "We shouldn't. Not here."
"And why," his lips ghosted along her jawline, before he breathed hotly into her ear, "not, Sakura…?"
"Because…" Sakura closed her eyes, incapable of protesting any further. She swallowed back an approving moan when his lips found her neck, kissing and sucking in a possessive manner that set her pulse hurtling. Her tongue struggled to provide the rest of the words she was searching for, for his right hand had slipped beneath the skirt of her gown, and his fingertips were stroking up her left calf.
It was a dangerous, dizzying touch. The way he put his hands on her and kissed her so freely sent Sakura's heart galloping into overdrive. She craved the exhilarating rush. The feeling of being truly alive that his touch ignited within her. A sensual nirvana like no other.
He had asked her why not. Sakura's thoughts unravelled, all the reasons spiralling around inside her head. Because they were on the throne. Because she had no right to be there with him, mortal as she was. Because ever since Ume and Chizu had spoken their words to her in innocence, her mind had been plagued with unrest. Because she didn't know what the future held for them, what she would eventually become to Sasuke if she survived long enough. Yet there she was at that very moment, sitting on his lap, in the very seat that symbolised the height of power in the realm. Sasuke had allowed her to interact with a soul. He had invited her to learn about how she might arrive at a decision in judgement. He had given her a taste of the responsibilities he, himself, undertook.
But she had asked him to show her and teach her about his kingdom, hadn't she? And how could she pretend to deny that it didn't send a selfish, wild thrill through her veins, to be caged in his arms in the very place that represented his full authority and power? His command was so absolute, that he clearly had no qualms about making a move on her anywhere. Not even on the most sacred of places in his palace. No servant and no soul would infringe without his permission.
She lifted her hands, cupping his face, kissing him more deeply, and all time faded away as they lost themselves to one another once again.
~x~ Full scene on Ao3 ~x~
Author's Note
This chapter has been split due to its length, which means the final story chapter count will be changing. The last scene was abruptly cut to follow site rules, no way to soft edit it. Next part needs extra work and proof-reading so will be out whenever it's done. I'd love to know your thoughts about this so please take a minute to leave feedback if you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.