Warnings: Blood, violence, and a big, fat, bolded angst. Also, yaoi.

Pairing: Naruto/Sasuke. Yes, really.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, its characters or world, and I'm not making any money off this.

And Ashes

Two

Sasuke had started using cosmetics during his time serving Orochimaru. He probably would have turned to them eventually, anyway. The ritual, more than anything, appealed to him. Today, the same colors went on in the same bold strokes as they had yesterday. After so long, he knew himself better with the paint than without it. He preferred himself that way. He outlined his eyes with kohl, brushed shadow over his lids, and gave himself a critical look. The liner on the left was thicker than the right, he decided. Evening them out resulted in darker eyes than he'd worn in years. Sighing, he stared at the mirror a long moment. The heavy black made him feel like a teenager again. After quick consideration, he washed his face and reapplied the eyeliner to a less dramatic effect.

He finished his lips in a rush, washed his hands, and wiped down the counter and the sink by habit. He packed away the makeup last, giving the guest suite he had stayed in a quick scan before he left. There was no hair in the drain, no towels forgotten in the hamper. It looked as though he'd never been there. The mirror was clean, free of streaks and toothpaste stains. The toilet lid was down. To the best of his memory, everything was exactly as he found it.

Shouldering his belongings, Sasuke shut off the lights and locked the door behind him. He left the keys under the mat.

Outside, rain fell in a thin, gritty veil. Yellow became pale grey in the soft light. Dark blue turned black. Green and red stood out in lurid contrast against the dingy white sky and brown earth. The damp air immediately chilled him through his cloak. Sasuke leaned into the rain, tilting his face to keep the water from melting his makeup, and stalked toward the North Gate.

As he walked, he planned.

The first step was the simplest: leave Konoha.

There was something about the place that made his teeth ache. It was like, he searched for a comparison, like eating savories after living on survival rations for too long. He knew he ought to like it, but somehow, it just made him feel vaguely sick. He'd always been near by, but he'd been hidden. It was different when people knew he was here. It dredged up old memories that he'd rather stayed forgotten. But aside from that. Aside from the pointed silences, the suspicious looks and guarded gestures; ignoring the pain he saw in Naruto's friends, and the blank disbelief. Aside from the fact that no one seemed sure what to do with him - should they be welcoming him back, or hurrying him out the nearest gate, or maybe hanging him from the nearest tree?

Aside from that...

Aside from that, Itachi wasn't here, and wasn't likely to be returning without Naruto to lure him.

The road was slicked with mud under Sasuke's feet. He knew the way without looking up. Nothing had really changed. The village was the same as it ever was. He knew where the trees lined the street as it turned toward the market, and where the kids played near the bridge. He knew the hawkers voices, and the ringing of bells near the shrines, and the sound of music coming from the bars. He knew where you could smell curry, or squid, or ramen. Gritting his teeth, he kept walking, and hoped that no one would try to stop him.

After leaving Konoha, things would get trickier. There was no saying what resources he'd have to work with, or what direction he should go. It wasn't like his older brother would leave him a trail of bodies to follow back to his lair. Sasuke laughed grimly. Oh no, that would be too easy.

The second step would be reconnaissance. Once he was out of the shinobi village, there ought to be an Akatsuki presence. He inferred that the group had informants. It also stood to reason that if they could be hired, they could be contacted. Anything he could uncover about them stood to lead him, in the end, to his brother. Up until now, he had sought them by looking for what they looked for. Power.

It was time for a new method.

First, step one. The rest would follow from there.

"Sasuke!" He nearly smiled, sly and humorless. This time he doubted she would try to convince him to stay; doubted she'd offer to go with him.

He waited for her to catch up, not even looking. Her footfalls were nearly inaudible, even on the mud. She stopped perhaps a hair over three paces behind him and to the left. He wondered if he should turn to face her. In his mind, she was suddenly thirteen again, with choppy pink hair and shaking hands.

"Sakura," he said, acknowledging her presence without banishing the memory of the girl the woman behind him used to be. His own voice was deeper than it had been back then.

Hers was fuller, more adult. "You're leaving already?"

"I can't think of any reason to stay," Sasuke told her honestly. "And I have things to do."

She made a noise in her throat, like an abbreviated laugh. It was pure disbelief. "You have things to do. I see. So that's it?"

"Unless you can think of something else, I suppose it is."

"You know, he was right about you. You are an asshole," said Sakura. The girl in Sasuke's mind turned her face away from him, eyes sparkling and cheeks wet. The woman's voice was steady though, and dry. "I don't know why he wanted you to..."

"To?" Sasuke prompted. Better that she should get it out now. Better to let her remember him as the bastard who left than some broken, romantic prince.

There was a long, pregnant pause. She moved, her clothing rustled faintly, but she didn't come any closer.

"That's all?" he asked, finally.

"I suppose it is," she agreed. "I suppose it is."

Still without turning, Sasuke walked away. He imagined Sakura biting her lip as she considered chasing after him for a single, crazy moment, but it was probably wishful thinking. She had probably out grown him years ago. He almost wanted to look back, just once, to see. He held the image of the girl, though, not ready to let it go.

"You know, he promised to bring you back," she called to him, after he thought she'd said her last.

He paused a minute, and this time, Sasuke did smile. "Goodbye, Sakura."

And that was it for step one.

oOo

Aoyama was sixteen miles down the high road and a world away from Konoha. Built at the crossroads of two of the Fire Country's largest trade routes, it was a thriving mass of inns and bars, casinos and banks. Roads leading into it were perpetually clogged with traffic. The toll gates at Aoyama were some of the busiest in the world, and made the headman of the city more than comfortably rich. Contrary to the name, there wasn't a mountain in sight.

Sasuke could have found another way in easily. Instead, he stood in line behind a thin, grey-haired woman.

The woman had a cigarette hanging from her lip, smoke scenting the air with tobacco. There was a child with her; Sasuke guessed her grandson. He was quiet while she warned him about the dangers of the city. Sasuke kept his ears open while he waited, and heard everything she said. "Stay by me, and don't wander. Don't trust strangers. Stay away from bad sorts. Keep an eye on the money I gave you, because you're not getting any more."

Behind Sasuke was a man with a cart full of hides. The tannery smell mingled unpleasantly with the smoke.

"Show the customs officer your passport when we get to the gate. Hold it up so he can see it. And don't lose it while we're in the city! Do you remember what I told you?"

"That bad people want to steal my passport," the child responded dutifully. The woman nodded her approval.

Rain was still coming down in a mist. It had saturated Sasuke during his walk. Water dripped from his hair, and down the back of his neck. His feet were cold, though he'd kept the dirt off his pants. He shook his head, snorting in an attempt to clear his nose.

The man behind him shifted closer. The wheels of his cart made a disgusting, squelching sound as he rocked it forward in the mud under the general din of voices. Casting a half-hearted warning glare over his shoulder, Sasuke could see more people gathering behind them as the line milled forward.

"Straighten up," the woman said, finally pulling her cigarette out of her mouth and giving the kid a scathing once over. "Don't talk back while we're here, you got that?"

The boy nodded solemnly. He looked around seven.

Then the line surged forward a few steps before sticking once again; people crowded closer to one another the nearer they came to the gate. It was a strangely tiring rhythm. Beyond the woman and her cigarette and her boy, Sasuke heard complaints from a pair of mercenaries looking for work. Further back, a wagon driver cursed with sapped enthusiasm. There was another wait, followed by another lurching step forward.

Eventually Sasuke pulled into earshot of the gate. He breathed a sigh of relief in spite of himself. The dim spring light was already getting thinner, washing the world in a deeper shade of grey.

The second step had begun as soon as he took his place in line, but so far, there wasn't much to learn. Once he got inside the city, he'd buy a newspaper and find a room in the right part of town.

"Papers?" Sasuke heard the customs officer demand. A moment later, they took another step forward.

For the moment, the right part of town would probably be the wrong part of town. He built a list of places he would try and the characters he'd play there. He doubted they'd hold up to much scrutiny, but for the moment they shouldn't need to. It wasn't like he could actually hide from Itachi, if Itachi were looking for him. These disguises would be for smaller fish than his brother.

There were one or two people at least he could meet, for a beginning. At least one person here owed him a favor.

Sasuke showed the customs officer a passport with the name Fuyugawa Youshi and paid his toll. The officer - a balding, bony man - told him that his passport didn't allow him to conduct business while in Aoyama. If he were caught, he would be arrested and tried. Sasuke promised that he was in town on personal affairs, and allowed himself to be ushered through the gate.

Once on the other side, the crowd opened up, allowing room to breathe. The air was heavy with the smell of food and wood smoke from stalls that crowded near the gate.

Breathing in deeply, Sasuke weaved a path that veered south and somewhat down hill. The businesses that lined the street became poorer, more patched and obviously worn as he went. Shingles gave way to plank roofing and corrugated metal. Paint faded and peeled away, revealing bare wood. Lighted signs shrank. Their bulbs burnt out. They flickered more and more often, neon and fluorescent spent. The anemic lights reflected off glass windows and leaden puddles.

The buildings that hemmed the street pressed in closer, and it seemed to get dark faster as awnings blocked the sky. The banner hanging in the fronts of bars and restaurants looked dirty in the gloom.

On a street that was little more than an alley, Sasuke found what he was looking for. The little red sign said, "Lottery Tickets Available." The narrow door was wedged at an odd angle between a butcher shop and a pachinko parlor. Once upon a time, the whole building front had been vibrant red - flakes of it still clung here and there. Noise from the pachinko machines poured out of the parlor, spotted with the exclamations and grumbling of the gamblers. Electronic jingles and curses.

Sasuke walked past the parlor and pushed open the small shop's door. A bell tied to the door tinged, announcing his entrance.

The man behind the counter jumped nervously at the sound.

Sasuke schooled his face to indifference as he raked the man over with his eyes. He was about Sasuke's height, but the way he held himself made him seem smaller - stoop shouldered and nervous in a way that wasn't consistent with his appearance. His eyes were narrow, dark greenish, and set at a sharp angle in a square face that might have been handsome once, but had started sagging and creasing in a way that wasn't rugged. His cheeks had the sort of permanent five o' clock shadow that no amount of shaving ever quite got rid off.

His eyes darted about a moment, before finally meeting Sasuke's.

"Hello, Saburo," Sasuke greeted him. "It's been, what? Two years?"

"Two and a half," Saburo told him, and his tone implied that it wasn't nearly long enough.

Sasuke took another two steps into the shop. The door swung shut behind him, bell clanging. Two more steps, and he was at the counter. The shop was narrow - the wall on one side was close enough to touch. On the other, a row of cigarette and drink machines crowded the small space. He stood in front of the counter, and Saburo behind it, and he looked down at the other man as he slouched sullenly.

He watched Saburo, unblinking, until he Saburo asked, "What brings you by?"

"I'm looking for someone."

There was a pause. Saburo was considering whether or not he really wanted to ask the next question. It was only a matter of seconds. "Someone in Aoyama?"

"Could be anywhere," Sasuke said truthfully.

"Then why are you here?"

Brushing his damp hair back from his face, Sasuke fell more deeply into the persona Saburo knew. Stoic, intense, and utterly implacable when provoked. Sasuke hated to admit where the inspiration for this personality came from. "That's not something you have to worry about. Don't worry; I'll tell you everything you need to know."

The lines bracketing the older man's mouth deepened. "Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"No."

Saburo snorted. "Good. So what do I have to know?"

"That if he finds out you're looking for him, he'll probably kill you. Or worse," Sasuke stated flatly.

"Somehow," Saburo said, "that doesn't surprise me much. What else?"

Sasuke told him in small words, using short sentences. The person he was looking for was named Itachi. He was a criminal, and a member of an elite organization. They were all missing-nin. They were notable for their clothing, and for their sigil rings. Sasuke scraped his explanation down to the bare minimum. When he was done, he said, "Itachi looks like me, but five years older. His hair used to be longer than mine."

Saburo's skin greyed. "Should I ask?"

Sasuke let the corner of his lip kick up just a little. "No." The expression seemed to frighten him further.

Satisfied, Sasuke leaned back. Saburo breathed deeper without Sasuke crowding his space. "I'll be staying at the Blue Mountain Hotel," Sasuke told him. "Ask for Youshi."

The man nodded, resigned. Sasuke left after that. He planned to check into the hotel next. He probably wouldn't be able to find his other contacts until tomorrow at best, and he had some letters to write. After he had a chance to dry off, he would go out again, he thought, and he pondered who Youshi would be. Once he was dry, once he had a chance to gauge the city and spotted the right people, he would have a better idea where to go from here. Once he had more information, he could possible start to formulate a plan.

But for now, he was still working on the second step.