(A/N: Thanks for all the reviews!
Aquahawk-04: Glad you liked the chapter!
Kagekitsune16: I'm glad you like the story!
Riddle: Yes - oh no!
neko oni: I'm glad you like the pairings. :D
Kyuubi-kun: Oh, yes it does suck. Glad you enjoyed the chapter!
Deaths Fallen Angel: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter.
Yuen-chan: I know the irritation. I was mad at myself for doing that. But they'll be back, the persistent little pests they are. . .
And now, on with the fic!)
Chapter 9: Of Sand and Sun
"He what?"
Hinata looked at the floor, keeping her gaze downcast and jabbed her index fingers together, with increasing force as her nervousness increased.
She was standing in the prince's chambers, having a nasty conversation with his new bride. As she had suspected, Sakura wasn't happy that her husband had up and deserted her so suddenly, so soon.
The blossom-haired girl had thrown herself out of bed now and was hurriedly rushing about the room, ranting and trying very hard to find her clothing, but all that had been placed in the room had been the wedding robes she'd been wearing the night before.
"He went where?!"
Hinata shuffled her feet. "To Suna," she said, her voice lost on the whirlwind of Sakura's rage.
"That. . .that complete bastard! The little jerk! Who does he think he is?!"
Hinata kept her eyes down, making sure she never made eye-contact with the green-eyed princess. She was sure that if she did, she would become the object of the girl's wrath, and she was quite sure that was going to be a very scary thing.
She could only be glad that she wasn't Naruto, for he was in for it when he got back. She was sure that Sakura wouldn't follow the prince's logic. She almost felt sorry for the blond boy.
Sakura let out a frustrated cry and tore at her hair, whirling on the maid who stood before her. She jabbed a finger at the Hyuuga girl, narrowing her eyes. "You! Where's my clothes? Don't tell me that Ino and Tenten haven't sent them up here yet!"
Hinata, if possible, ducked her head even lower. "I...I'm sorry, Sakura, but we haven't had time to fetch them yet. I-if you want, I will get them while you sit down to breakfast."
Sakura glowered for a moment longer, then resigned, feeling exhausted, and drained. "Fine," she sighed, giving up to resignation.
Why had Naruto left her so suddenly? They hadn't even been joined in matrimony for a day yet, and he'd left her the first chance he'd gotten. It wasn't as though she cared about the prince, or harboured any affection for him, but rather. . .
It made her feel as if she was boring, so boring that he'd rather go chase whores across the desert. It made her feel plain, because he'd much rather go somewhere with that ravishing human than herself. It made her angry, because she was the princess, goddamnit, and he should have been by her side, not with that stupid. . .
That stupid human. She couldn't deny that the ex-whore was a stunning sight, even when he wasn't gussied up as a woman, and she could say that because the night before she'd become a married woman, she'd ran into him again, practically tripping across him in the moonlight.
He was such a creature of the night, with raven features, and pale skin, which looked even less colourful in the moonbeams. Somehow, when she'd struck across him, he'd looked melancholy, with a sadness ringing in his dead eyes, his posture, the way his hair hung down into his eyes, hiding them in shadow.
She felt that they were two souls in the same in that instant, because she'd gotten up and left her chambers to look to the moon goddess for guidance, to see if her marriage to the prince was really what was best for her. She also wanted to make her way down to the temple, to pray to the house gods for the strength and courage, and the loving and understanding that she would need to make it in her new role.
Instead, she'd found him, with his head bowed, and his hands clasped, apparently praying to some human moon deity, for his lips were moving, silently, most likely in the words of a prayer. Was he looking for guidance? Was he looking for some trait he felt he'd forgotten?
He looked up at her, noticing her, and she took in her breath harshly, because his eyes were wild and dangerous, but yet so sad and intense. It was like drowning yourself in a shadow to look into them.
No words had passed between them, and it was understood that times were changing, and they would not be friends, nor anything more, or less, even. They would simply be beings in that time and place, until one or another passed away into the blurs of existence, and then, until death claimed them.
She sat in the empty dining hall, picking at the breakfast that had been placed for her. Pale sunlight filtered in through the windows, reflecting off the snowy outdoors, making the day so much brighter than it actually was. Looks could be so deceiving, couldn't they?
A place had not been set for Naruto, nor was there enough food for two, had he been there. She figured that he must have caught Hinata as she was setting the meal, and told her not to waste the food or time on him, because. . .
Because he was leaving with that jerk!
She slammed her fist on the table, bowing her head and fighting the angry tears that threatened to overflow. This was stupid! This was so stupid! Wasn't every girl's dream to marry the prince of Konoha, the prince of the most powerful country in kitsune-jin history, and be his wife, and his Queen when he became King, and the bearer of his heir?
Why was she so unhappy if this was the dream of all the small children in the North?
She got up and walked to the window, looking out over the snow-covered city, and beyond that, to the mountains. She wanted to go home, oh, she was so tired of being in Konoha, this pale comparison of winter. She longed for the bitter winds and the thick snows, the blizzards and a warm fire in front of her, and her mother and father.
She sighed, looking at her pale, glassy reflection in the window. Her eyes were dull, not a bright, dark green like most girls', but a washed out jade, and her hair was pale and limp as well. Her skin, well it wasn't as white as the human's, but it was a close call. Her lips were thin, and tight, just barely chapped, and her skin wasn't soft and smooth like it was supposed to be.
She sighed, and looked back at her breakfast, then decided it was better left as it was, and wandered back to the prince's bed chambers, and strode into the washroom. She closed the door, quietly, shutting out the prince's little fox kit, Yume, who pawed and whined at the door, obviously wondering where her owner had gone.
She stared at herself in the full-length mirror on the backside of the door. Pale, limp, fragile, and boyish were all words that came to mind to describe herself. Her bosom was still so small, dwarfed by most of the other kitsune-jins, especially Tsunade. Her hips were still so straight cut, not at all rounded, and her figure was so very lacking of curves that she could have sworn she was meant to be a boy.
It was hardly a wonder that none of the boys in her home had ever fancied her, for she wasn't nearly as stunning as Ino, or even Tenten, who had dull brown features. It was little wonder that her husband up and left her for someone prettier than herself.
She sighed again, and put her face into her knees, shaking it a bit, trying to distill the tears that threatened the peace of her face.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
When Sasuke woke, the sun had climbed high into the sky, and shone down on the wintery forest they were travelling through. The trees, with their naked limbs, raked at the dead sky, and the horse plodded on through deep snow, tugging as the wagon wheels stuck, and refused to turn.
Every so often, Naruto had to hop down and kick the snow off of them, before they could continue.
Sasuke yawned and sat up a bit, rubbing his eyes, wondering how long he'd been out. The sun was well past it zenith, making him guess that it was some time after the noon-hour. It was probably more about three o'clock, for the west was starting to become appealing to the early-sleeping winter sun.
Naruto happened to glance down at him, and notice that he was awake. "Oh, so you woke up, huh?" he nearly snarled, and Sasuke, still in a bit of a drug-induced stupor, took a moment to wonder why Naruto was so bitter, and then, nod stupidly.
He took that moment to feel sick, and haul himself up, and lean over the side of the wagon, as best he could, emptying the contents of his stomach. He cursed himself mentally - he'd always had a weak stomach, and every time he came down, the nausea always was enough to make him sick.
He hauled himself back into the cart, making sure not to fall over the edge, turning back to see Naruto looking at him sheepishly. They said nothing, and the blond looked away, looking pensive and. . .upset?
Sasuke wasn't sure. He sat back down, closing his eyes, willing Kakashi to stop and let him rest, to make the steady bump-bump-bumping of the cart wheels turning stop, and in turn, make his stomach stop churning so violently.
The Special Forces kitsune-jin just kept ploughing onward, let the human keep feeling sick.
The wheels went round and away they went, travelling West, leaving Konoha behind them.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Well, well, well.
If they weren't stuck with the army and half of Konoha's elite, the Special Forces. Wonderful.
Itachi admired the Special Forces the way he admired a corpse. He had always resented them for what had been done to his family (not that he cared), and for forcing him into bondage. They were stuck up, and they thought they were good, but they were trash, just like the rest of the kitsune-jins.
He had easily outclassed the whole lot of them, when he was just ten. It was a sad kind of reality, but that was how it was.
He knew they resented him standing there. He knew they thought him a burden, and at the moment, he knew he was.
Normally, he was able to defend himself, able to take the whole lot of those who dared oppose him, but right now, he could not do that sort of thing.
Of course, he was under strict orders not to do anything strenuous, and he was under the watchful eye of Orochimaru, who was going to make sure those orders were upheld. So far, he hadn't even been allowed to touch a weapon, lest he cut himself and die of blood loss, no matter how ridiculous the notion.
So, it really was fitting that he was sulky and depressed, and the kitsune-jins all around him saw nothing more than some weak, petty human that they had to defend, just because their general was a depraved old bat.
It wasn't good for him to sit in the room full of people with that mentality, because it permeated the air and slithered down his throat when he tried to breath, and made him want to stop.
If they glared at him, then he glared right back. He wasn't about to take this lying down, he wasn't about to just go and prove them right. Pregnant or not, he was capable of doing more than anyone else there, even Orochimaru.
He wasn't about to let this stupid thing get in the way of proving them all wrong. If he were only allowed to hate one thing, he hated hypocrites - those who said they were powerful and lurked in the shadows, and pretended to be powerful, and whenever they came face to face with true power, squealed like a dying pig and ran for their petty little lives.
Which was exactly what most kitsune-jins did, and would do.
They'd left the night before, under the cover of darkness, leaving only their footprints in the snow, walking, away from Konoha, away from the lights and the warmth, into the cold real world, and Itachi liked it.
He liked the cold, he liked the dark, because it proved him stronger than the elements. The night was moonless, and almost starless, but there were no clouds to be seen. They trampled on, carving a path in the snow.
They went North,and then, at some point during the early morning, their course turned them Northeast, toward the North Sea, and Kiri. Kiri was a day and a half's ride from Konoha, which meant about three or four days walking. Orochimaru reckoned that they could make it in two, if they travelled non-stop.
Sleepless in the morning light, they kept moving, only to be set back by the mountains on the outside of Konoha's territory. When evening fell, they had, amazingly enough, reached the top of the rocky summits, and, already behind, Orochimaru called a halt and let them rest, because there was no point in wearing themselves down if they were already going behind schedule.
Itachi was glad for the rest, because, though he would not admit it, his pregnant body needed more rest than he would have liked. When Orochimaru had called the halt, he had gratefully offered a silent prayer for the general, and flopped down in the snow, carving himself a small niche, and falling asleep nearly instantly.
He'd woke in the morning, startled from his slumber by someone's breath on his cheek, and found that sometime after he'd slept, Orochimaru had found him and curled up with him, wrapping an extra fur or two about them, so as to prevent them from freezing to death.
Itachi was genuinely surprised by such an action and raised an eyebrow, then got up and stretched his limbs.
The air was thinner up here, and he found it almost hard to breathe, making himself feel dizzy. He stumbled, then tripped and ended up face-first in the snow. He glanced around and noticed that he was the only one awake, or so it seemed.
He turned over and looked up at the sky, watching the greyness of the night seep away, being overtaken by pale, fractured sunlight.
It was then he heard a tell-tale battle cry pierce the silent air.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sasuke had forgotten when the sunshine had become so warm, or when the snow had melted away, into a sea of sand which held the sun's heat, then held it back up to the overheated air. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sweated so profusely.
They'd been travelling for three days now, and as far as he could tell, they should have been reaching Suna sometime very soon. Of course, he could have been very wrong, because the desert tells lies.
The sands were shifting all about them, and the wind kicked up, now and then, though it wasn't a cold breeze, but a warm and heavy one. The sun burned down on the back of their necks, and Sasuke wondered how anyone could survive in an environment like this.
The air was almost too hot to breathe, and it scorched his lungs, making him gulp and gasp for oxygen that wasn't so warm. The heat made his head swim, and he couldn't think straight. His brain was sticky, and overheated, and so were his feet, even though he'd taken off his shoes and his socks long ago.
The poor horse, it was slick with sweat, and still, trying to pull it's load along behind it, but it couldn't seem to get farther than a few steps, before it faltered again in the sand, then had to stop and catch its breath.
Sasuke could only imagine how wretched the heat must have been to one physically straining itself. It was sweltering to him, and he wasn't even doing anything. He felt like mush, like he was melting.
The day wore on.
The one thing about the desert that Sasuke had already come to hate was the extreme variation of temperatures between night and day. The day was blistering hot, and on its heels, came the night, with icy fingers that clawed their way about you and choked you to death.
He and Naruto had not talked for days. At first, it had been out of pure discomfort, but now, it was because the heat made doing anything more than staring at the sun until your eyes felt like falling out was entirely too much effort.
Even Kakashi and Naruto had ceased to converse with each other.
The silence wore on into the afternoon, and for a long time after that.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The sun rose high into the sky over Suna that day.
The wind played in the palm trees, and the water fountain in the town square could be heard trickling, even from a distance. Birds chirped in the trees. Suna truly was an oasis in the middle of a wasteland.
Sitting on his porch that morning, Sarutobi Asuma lit a cigarette, the first of many in a continuous string for that day. He exhaled smoke, watched the smoke curl lazily up into the sky from the cancer stick, and followed it up, up, and up, into the wild blue yonder.
He was waiting, and he'd been waiting for the past three or four days. He was beginning to think that the Yondaime wasn't going to send him his purchase after all.
"And that lying cheat already took the money," he huffed, flicking the ashes of his cigarette to the ground, glaring at them as they hit the ground and broke apart, to be lost in the sands.
The clouds rolled on overhead.
There was a loud chirping noise, and startled, a flock of birds fled the trees of his land, angry and loud, flying as fast as they could.
A worn-out looking horse, and a creaky wagon started to appear before his very eyes, pulling over a hill in the road. Someone was standing on the back of the cart, waving enthusiastically, and grinning broadly. He had wide blue eyes and wild blond hair, the colour of straw.
Asuma dropped his cigarette and rubbed his eyes. He could have sworn that was the Yondaime, not changed since their last meeting when they'd been sixteen. But no, they were both much older now, and this boy had three scars on his cheeks, and he closed his eyes now, making him look even more like a fox than he already did.
The driver of the cart, a silver-haired kitsune-jin held up his hand in greeting and called lazily, "Oy, Asuma!"
"Kakashi!" he returned gruffly, and rose to his feet.
So, they were here at last, but the human boy was no where to be seen.
The horse nearly galloped into the yard, seeing water and its chance to rest. Kakashi managed to hold the animal, and keep them steady, so as not to upset the rickety wagon.
Naruto clambered off the wagon as soon as it screeched to a halt, eager to stretch his arms and legs. Sasuke, on the other hand, felt increasingly sick, and stayed hunkered down on the wagon, fear tearing at his insides, and he was almost ready to burst into tears at any second.
He hated it here already. The sun, the happiness, the cold, the heat. The place stank of cigarette smoke, even from the yard. He wanted to go home, he wanted to go back to Konoha, where he knew things, and where he knew people, even if they weren't the right kind of people to know.
Seeing Naruto grinning that brightly wasn't helping him any. It made it look as if the kitsune-jin was happy to let him go, happy to get rid of him. He supposed he should be, bitterly, because the prince had to be a prince and he had to live like one now, with his wife and children, and -
"Goddamnit," he whispered, to himself, rubbing at his eyes.
Blue eyes were looking at him concernedly now, and Naruto's voice was saying, "What happened? Get sand in your eye?"
He shook his head and slid off the back of the cart, landing on his shaky, almost numb feet. God, why did he feel so goddamn sick? Why did he want to cry?
His face was jerked up roughly, by a large, tanned and calloused hand, and he looked up at a tall, brown man, with a scruffy beard and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Brown eyes met black, and already he wanted to break that grip and run, run away.
He wanted to go home.
"Mmmhmm," the brown man said, "A true Uchiha, indeed."
Sasuke said nothing, but strained his eyes down, until they hurt, but he was looking at the ground. The ground was safe, the ground was okay, the ground was brown - like his new master. The ground was sandy, like his new desert home.
Some servants scuttled out of the house, which was built of mud bricks and clay mortar, doomed to be buried by the whispering sands in time. It was nothing like the houses in Konoha, he though bitterly, and felt even more homesick.
The servants unhitched the horse and led it to the water, bathing it's sweaty sides with the cool stuff, and cold cloths.
Lunch was served, not too much later, and was a course made of simple, cold foods, for Sasuke supposed, no one could fathom eating anything hot at midday. Cold soup, cold well-water, cold prepared meats, cold bread and butter. He could see what it was, he could smell what it was, but everything tasted like sand, or dirt, or sawdust, and he really wasn't hungry just then.
After the lunch meal, there was the afternoon nap, a resting time, because the desert-dwellers knew that it was far too hot to do anything else, and besides, the heat made them sleepy.
Sasuke lay on the itchy blankets, feeling the heat close in around him, and he tossed and turned, but he could not sleep, for everything inside him - his thoughts, his feelings - was tied up in coils and knots, constricting his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
He let his eyes flutter shut when the world started to spin, and he forced his head against the pillow, staying the dizziness and the feeling of movement when there was none.
At three o'clock, when the sun was starting to set, the heat began to wane, just slightly, and the evening meal was set. Sasuke didn't sit with the master and the travellers this time, instead, being forced to sit with the servants, most of whom were women.
He kept his eyes down, as if eyeing the food, but he really didn't want anything to eat. He wasn't hungry, as he'd done nothing to burn the food he'd choked down at lunch, and nothing seemed to appetizing to him at that moment.
For the most part, he was ignored, occasionally being given a sly side-glance by one of the women, who went on chattering amongst themselves. He only dared look up a bit when he was sure there were no eyes on him, and he saw that the women were all draped in layers of light, airy cloth, probably to keep the sand out of their faces and hair.
Some of them were young and pretty, others were getting old, with grey in their hair, and others still were already old, and fat, and ugly. He noticed that some of the younger women appeared to be heavy with child, and he nearly needed to shake his head violently to force his thoughts away.
The sick feeling crawled in his stomach.
The moon rose and the stars came out to play.
Early in the twilight, Naruto and Kakashi had gone, under the advice to travel by night and early morning, and to sleep for most of the day. Sasuke had refused to watch them go, even though part of him wanted to stand on the hill and wave until they were out of sight, like in the generic ten cent romance novels at the apothecary's.
Asuma, the man who owned - god, he hated that word - him now, had just returned from the evening farming, because it was too hot to work the land during the day, so it was tilled and worked during the morning and evening.
He smiled at Sasuke and took the boy by his hand and led him away, saying, "Let's see how well you were trained."
Inside the servants' room, the female slaves began to giggle.
- - - - - - - - - -
(A/N: R&R?)
Aquahawk-04: Glad you liked the chapter!
Kagekitsune16: I'm glad you like the story!
Riddle: Yes - oh no!
neko oni: I'm glad you like the pairings. :D
Kyuubi-kun: Oh, yes it does suck. Glad you enjoyed the chapter!
Deaths Fallen Angel: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter.
Yuen-chan: I know the irritation. I was mad at myself for doing that. But they'll be back, the persistent little pests they are. . .
And now, on with the fic!)
Chapter 9: Of Sand and Sun
"He what?"
Hinata looked at the floor, keeping her gaze downcast and jabbed her index fingers together, with increasing force as her nervousness increased.
She was standing in the prince's chambers, having a nasty conversation with his new bride. As she had suspected, Sakura wasn't happy that her husband had up and deserted her so suddenly, so soon.
The blossom-haired girl had thrown herself out of bed now and was hurriedly rushing about the room, ranting and trying very hard to find her clothing, but all that had been placed in the room had been the wedding robes she'd been wearing the night before.
"He went where?!"
Hinata shuffled her feet. "To Suna," she said, her voice lost on the whirlwind of Sakura's rage.
"That. . .that complete bastard! The little jerk! Who does he think he is?!"
Hinata kept her eyes down, making sure she never made eye-contact with the green-eyed princess. She was sure that if she did, she would become the object of the girl's wrath, and she was quite sure that was going to be a very scary thing.
She could only be glad that she wasn't Naruto, for he was in for it when he got back. She was sure that Sakura wouldn't follow the prince's logic. She almost felt sorry for the blond boy.
Sakura let out a frustrated cry and tore at her hair, whirling on the maid who stood before her. She jabbed a finger at the Hyuuga girl, narrowing her eyes. "You! Where's my clothes? Don't tell me that Ino and Tenten haven't sent them up here yet!"
Hinata, if possible, ducked her head even lower. "I...I'm sorry, Sakura, but we haven't had time to fetch them yet. I-if you want, I will get them while you sit down to breakfast."
Sakura glowered for a moment longer, then resigned, feeling exhausted, and drained. "Fine," she sighed, giving up to resignation.
Why had Naruto left her so suddenly? They hadn't even been joined in matrimony for a day yet, and he'd left her the first chance he'd gotten. It wasn't as though she cared about the prince, or harboured any affection for him, but rather. . .
It made her feel as if she was boring, so boring that he'd rather go chase whores across the desert. It made her feel plain, because he'd much rather go somewhere with that ravishing human than herself. It made her angry, because she was the princess, goddamnit, and he should have been by her side, not with that stupid. . .
That stupid human. She couldn't deny that the ex-whore was a stunning sight, even when he wasn't gussied up as a woman, and she could say that because the night before she'd become a married woman, she'd ran into him again, practically tripping across him in the moonlight.
He was such a creature of the night, with raven features, and pale skin, which looked even less colourful in the moonbeams. Somehow, when she'd struck across him, he'd looked melancholy, with a sadness ringing in his dead eyes, his posture, the way his hair hung down into his eyes, hiding them in shadow.
She felt that they were two souls in the same in that instant, because she'd gotten up and left her chambers to look to the moon goddess for guidance, to see if her marriage to the prince was really what was best for her. She also wanted to make her way down to the temple, to pray to the house gods for the strength and courage, and the loving and understanding that she would need to make it in her new role.
Instead, she'd found him, with his head bowed, and his hands clasped, apparently praying to some human moon deity, for his lips were moving, silently, most likely in the words of a prayer. Was he looking for guidance? Was he looking for some trait he felt he'd forgotten?
He looked up at her, noticing her, and she took in her breath harshly, because his eyes were wild and dangerous, but yet so sad and intense. It was like drowning yourself in a shadow to look into them.
No words had passed between them, and it was understood that times were changing, and they would not be friends, nor anything more, or less, even. They would simply be beings in that time and place, until one or another passed away into the blurs of existence, and then, until death claimed them.
She sat in the empty dining hall, picking at the breakfast that had been placed for her. Pale sunlight filtered in through the windows, reflecting off the snowy outdoors, making the day so much brighter than it actually was. Looks could be so deceiving, couldn't they?
A place had not been set for Naruto, nor was there enough food for two, had he been there. She figured that he must have caught Hinata as she was setting the meal, and told her not to waste the food or time on him, because. . .
Because he was leaving with that jerk!
She slammed her fist on the table, bowing her head and fighting the angry tears that threatened to overflow. This was stupid! This was so stupid! Wasn't every girl's dream to marry the prince of Konoha, the prince of the most powerful country in kitsune-jin history, and be his wife, and his Queen when he became King, and the bearer of his heir?
Why was she so unhappy if this was the dream of all the small children in the North?
She got up and walked to the window, looking out over the snow-covered city, and beyond that, to the mountains. She wanted to go home, oh, she was so tired of being in Konoha, this pale comparison of winter. She longed for the bitter winds and the thick snows, the blizzards and a warm fire in front of her, and her mother and father.
She sighed, looking at her pale, glassy reflection in the window. Her eyes were dull, not a bright, dark green like most girls', but a washed out jade, and her hair was pale and limp as well. Her skin, well it wasn't as white as the human's, but it was a close call. Her lips were thin, and tight, just barely chapped, and her skin wasn't soft and smooth like it was supposed to be.
She sighed, and looked back at her breakfast, then decided it was better left as it was, and wandered back to the prince's bed chambers, and strode into the washroom. She closed the door, quietly, shutting out the prince's little fox kit, Yume, who pawed and whined at the door, obviously wondering where her owner had gone.
She stared at herself in the full-length mirror on the backside of the door. Pale, limp, fragile, and boyish were all words that came to mind to describe herself. Her bosom was still so small, dwarfed by most of the other kitsune-jins, especially Tsunade. Her hips were still so straight cut, not at all rounded, and her figure was so very lacking of curves that she could have sworn she was meant to be a boy.
It was hardly a wonder that none of the boys in her home had ever fancied her, for she wasn't nearly as stunning as Ino, or even Tenten, who had dull brown features. It was little wonder that her husband up and left her for someone prettier than herself.
She sighed again, and put her face into her knees, shaking it a bit, trying to distill the tears that threatened the peace of her face.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
When Sasuke woke, the sun had climbed high into the sky, and shone down on the wintery forest they were travelling through. The trees, with their naked limbs, raked at the dead sky, and the horse plodded on through deep snow, tugging as the wagon wheels stuck, and refused to turn.
Every so often, Naruto had to hop down and kick the snow off of them, before they could continue.
Sasuke yawned and sat up a bit, rubbing his eyes, wondering how long he'd been out. The sun was well past it zenith, making him guess that it was some time after the noon-hour. It was probably more about three o'clock, for the west was starting to become appealing to the early-sleeping winter sun.
Naruto happened to glance down at him, and notice that he was awake. "Oh, so you woke up, huh?" he nearly snarled, and Sasuke, still in a bit of a drug-induced stupor, took a moment to wonder why Naruto was so bitter, and then, nod stupidly.
He took that moment to feel sick, and haul himself up, and lean over the side of the wagon, as best he could, emptying the contents of his stomach. He cursed himself mentally - he'd always had a weak stomach, and every time he came down, the nausea always was enough to make him sick.
He hauled himself back into the cart, making sure not to fall over the edge, turning back to see Naruto looking at him sheepishly. They said nothing, and the blond looked away, looking pensive and. . .upset?
Sasuke wasn't sure. He sat back down, closing his eyes, willing Kakashi to stop and let him rest, to make the steady bump-bump-bumping of the cart wheels turning stop, and in turn, make his stomach stop churning so violently.
The Special Forces kitsune-jin just kept ploughing onward, let the human keep feeling sick.
The wheels went round and away they went, travelling West, leaving Konoha behind them.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Well, well, well.
If they weren't stuck with the army and half of Konoha's elite, the Special Forces. Wonderful.
Itachi admired the Special Forces the way he admired a corpse. He had always resented them for what had been done to his family (not that he cared), and for forcing him into bondage. They were stuck up, and they thought they were good, but they were trash, just like the rest of the kitsune-jins.
He had easily outclassed the whole lot of them, when he was just ten. It was a sad kind of reality, but that was how it was.
He knew they resented him standing there. He knew they thought him a burden, and at the moment, he knew he was.
Normally, he was able to defend himself, able to take the whole lot of those who dared oppose him, but right now, he could not do that sort of thing.
Of course, he was under strict orders not to do anything strenuous, and he was under the watchful eye of Orochimaru, who was going to make sure those orders were upheld. So far, he hadn't even been allowed to touch a weapon, lest he cut himself and die of blood loss, no matter how ridiculous the notion.
So, it really was fitting that he was sulky and depressed, and the kitsune-jins all around him saw nothing more than some weak, petty human that they had to defend, just because their general was a depraved old bat.
It wasn't good for him to sit in the room full of people with that mentality, because it permeated the air and slithered down his throat when he tried to breath, and made him want to stop.
If they glared at him, then he glared right back. He wasn't about to take this lying down, he wasn't about to just go and prove them right. Pregnant or not, he was capable of doing more than anyone else there, even Orochimaru.
He wasn't about to let this stupid thing get in the way of proving them all wrong. If he were only allowed to hate one thing, he hated hypocrites - those who said they were powerful and lurked in the shadows, and pretended to be powerful, and whenever they came face to face with true power, squealed like a dying pig and ran for their petty little lives.
Which was exactly what most kitsune-jins did, and would do.
They'd left the night before, under the cover of darkness, leaving only their footprints in the snow, walking, away from Konoha, away from the lights and the warmth, into the cold real world, and Itachi liked it.
He liked the cold, he liked the dark, because it proved him stronger than the elements. The night was moonless, and almost starless, but there were no clouds to be seen. They trampled on, carving a path in the snow.
They went North,and then, at some point during the early morning, their course turned them Northeast, toward the North Sea, and Kiri. Kiri was a day and a half's ride from Konoha, which meant about three or four days walking. Orochimaru reckoned that they could make it in two, if they travelled non-stop.
Sleepless in the morning light, they kept moving, only to be set back by the mountains on the outside of Konoha's territory. When evening fell, they had, amazingly enough, reached the top of the rocky summits, and, already behind, Orochimaru called a halt and let them rest, because there was no point in wearing themselves down if they were already going behind schedule.
Itachi was glad for the rest, because, though he would not admit it, his pregnant body needed more rest than he would have liked. When Orochimaru had called the halt, he had gratefully offered a silent prayer for the general, and flopped down in the snow, carving himself a small niche, and falling asleep nearly instantly.
He'd woke in the morning, startled from his slumber by someone's breath on his cheek, and found that sometime after he'd slept, Orochimaru had found him and curled up with him, wrapping an extra fur or two about them, so as to prevent them from freezing to death.
Itachi was genuinely surprised by such an action and raised an eyebrow, then got up and stretched his limbs.
The air was thinner up here, and he found it almost hard to breathe, making himself feel dizzy. He stumbled, then tripped and ended up face-first in the snow. He glanced around and noticed that he was the only one awake, or so it seemed.
He turned over and looked up at the sky, watching the greyness of the night seep away, being overtaken by pale, fractured sunlight.
It was then he heard a tell-tale battle cry pierce the silent air.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sasuke had forgotten when the sunshine had become so warm, or when the snow had melted away, into a sea of sand which held the sun's heat, then held it back up to the overheated air. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sweated so profusely.
They'd been travelling for three days now, and as far as he could tell, they should have been reaching Suna sometime very soon. Of course, he could have been very wrong, because the desert tells lies.
The sands were shifting all about them, and the wind kicked up, now and then, though it wasn't a cold breeze, but a warm and heavy one. The sun burned down on the back of their necks, and Sasuke wondered how anyone could survive in an environment like this.
The air was almost too hot to breathe, and it scorched his lungs, making him gulp and gasp for oxygen that wasn't so warm. The heat made his head swim, and he couldn't think straight. His brain was sticky, and overheated, and so were his feet, even though he'd taken off his shoes and his socks long ago.
The poor horse, it was slick with sweat, and still, trying to pull it's load along behind it, but it couldn't seem to get farther than a few steps, before it faltered again in the sand, then had to stop and catch its breath.
Sasuke could only imagine how wretched the heat must have been to one physically straining itself. It was sweltering to him, and he wasn't even doing anything. He felt like mush, like he was melting.
The day wore on.
The one thing about the desert that Sasuke had already come to hate was the extreme variation of temperatures between night and day. The day was blistering hot, and on its heels, came the night, with icy fingers that clawed their way about you and choked you to death.
He and Naruto had not talked for days. At first, it had been out of pure discomfort, but now, it was because the heat made doing anything more than staring at the sun until your eyes felt like falling out was entirely too much effort.
Even Kakashi and Naruto had ceased to converse with each other.
The silence wore on into the afternoon, and for a long time after that.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The sun rose high into the sky over Suna that day.
The wind played in the palm trees, and the water fountain in the town square could be heard trickling, even from a distance. Birds chirped in the trees. Suna truly was an oasis in the middle of a wasteland.
Sitting on his porch that morning, Sarutobi Asuma lit a cigarette, the first of many in a continuous string for that day. He exhaled smoke, watched the smoke curl lazily up into the sky from the cancer stick, and followed it up, up, and up, into the wild blue yonder.
He was waiting, and he'd been waiting for the past three or four days. He was beginning to think that the Yondaime wasn't going to send him his purchase after all.
"And that lying cheat already took the money," he huffed, flicking the ashes of his cigarette to the ground, glaring at them as they hit the ground and broke apart, to be lost in the sands.
The clouds rolled on overhead.
There was a loud chirping noise, and startled, a flock of birds fled the trees of his land, angry and loud, flying as fast as they could.
A worn-out looking horse, and a creaky wagon started to appear before his very eyes, pulling over a hill in the road. Someone was standing on the back of the cart, waving enthusiastically, and grinning broadly. He had wide blue eyes and wild blond hair, the colour of straw.
Asuma dropped his cigarette and rubbed his eyes. He could have sworn that was the Yondaime, not changed since their last meeting when they'd been sixteen. But no, they were both much older now, and this boy had three scars on his cheeks, and he closed his eyes now, making him look even more like a fox than he already did.
The driver of the cart, a silver-haired kitsune-jin held up his hand in greeting and called lazily, "Oy, Asuma!"
"Kakashi!" he returned gruffly, and rose to his feet.
So, they were here at last, but the human boy was no where to be seen.
The horse nearly galloped into the yard, seeing water and its chance to rest. Kakashi managed to hold the animal, and keep them steady, so as not to upset the rickety wagon.
Naruto clambered off the wagon as soon as it screeched to a halt, eager to stretch his arms and legs. Sasuke, on the other hand, felt increasingly sick, and stayed hunkered down on the wagon, fear tearing at his insides, and he was almost ready to burst into tears at any second.
He hated it here already. The sun, the happiness, the cold, the heat. The place stank of cigarette smoke, even from the yard. He wanted to go home, he wanted to go back to Konoha, where he knew things, and where he knew people, even if they weren't the right kind of people to know.
Seeing Naruto grinning that brightly wasn't helping him any. It made it look as if the kitsune-jin was happy to let him go, happy to get rid of him. He supposed he should be, bitterly, because the prince had to be a prince and he had to live like one now, with his wife and children, and -
"Goddamnit," he whispered, to himself, rubbing at his eyes.
Blue eyes were looking at him concernedly now, and Naruto's voice was saying, "What happened? Get sand in your eye?"
He shook his head and slid off the back of the cart, landing on his shaky, almost numb feet. God, why did he feel so goddamn sick? Why did he want to cry?
His face was jerked up roughly, by a large, tanned and calloused hand, and he looked up at a tall, brown man, with a scruffy beard and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Brown eyes met black, and already he wanted to break that grip and run, run away.
He wanted to go home.
"Mmmhmm," the brown man said, "A true Uchiha, indeed."
Sasuke said nothing, but strained his eyes down, until they hurt, but he was looking at the ground. The ground was safe, the ground was okay, the ground was brown - like his new master. The ground was sandy, like his new desert home.
Some servants scuttled out of the house, which was built of mud bricks and clay mortar, doomed to be buried by the whispering sands in time. It was nothing like the houses in Konoha, he though bitterly, and felt even more homesick.
The servants unhitched the horse and led it to the water, bathing it's sweaty sides with the cool stuff, and cold cloths.
Lunch was served, not too much later, and was a course made of simple, cold foods, for Sasuke supposed, no one could fathom eating anything hot at midday. Cold soup, cold well-water, cold prepared meats, cold bread and butter. He could see what it was, he could smell what it was, but everything tasted like sand, or dirt, or sawdust, and he really wasn't hungry just then.
After the lunch meal, there was the afternoon nap, a resting time, because the desert-dwellers knew that it was far too hot to do anything else, and besides, the heat made them sleepy.
Sasuke lay on the itchy blankets, feeling the heat close in around him, and he tossed and turned, but he could not sleep, for everything inside him - his thoughts, his feelings - was tied up in coils and knots, constricting his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
He let his eyes flutter shut when the world started to spin, and he forced his head against the pillow, staying the dizziness and the feeling of movement when there was none.
At three o'clock, when the sun was starting to set, the heat began to wane, just slightly, and the evening meal was set. Sasuke didn't sit with the master and the travellers this time, instead, being forced to sit with the servants, most of whom were women.
He kept his eyes down, as if eyeing the food, but he really didn't want anything to eat. He wasn't hungry, as he'd done nothing to burn the food he'd choked down at lunch, and nothing seemed to appetizing to him at that moment.
For the most part, he was ignored, occasionally being given a sly side-glance by one of the women, who went on chattering amongst themselves. He only dared look up a bit when he was sure there were no eyes on him, and he saw that the women were all draped in layers of light, airy cloth, probably to keep the sand out of their faces and hair.
Some of them were young and pretty, others were getting old, with grey in their hair, and others still were already old, and fat, and ugly. He noticed that some of the younger women appeared to be heavy with child, and he nearly needed to shake his head violently to force his thoughts away.
The sick feeling crawled in his stomach.
The moon rose and the stars came out to play.
Early in the twilight, Naruto and Kakashi had gone, under the advice to travel by night and early morning, and to sleep for most of the day. Sasuke had refused to watch them go, even though part of him wanted to stand on the hill and wave until they were out of sight, like in the generic ten cent romance novels at the apothecary's.
Asuma, the man who owned - god, he hated that word - him now, had just returned from the evening farming, because it was too hot to work the land during the day, so it was tilled and worked during the morning and evening.
He smiled at Sasuke and took the boy by his hand and led him away, saying, "Let's see how well you were trained."
Inside the servants' room, the female slaves began to giggle.
- - - - - - - - - -
(A/N: R&R?)