Warnings: implied religious stuff. Angst. Suspense (sort of ). Shounen Ai.
Disclaimer: None of the Naruto series belongs to me, not even a chara or two…

Reach.
a tale of
ever
falling higher
and rising
lower

Chapter Nine, Sasuke…by Taes

I open my eyes.

I know it in an instant. I am not in heaven. This is sure as day, for I do not sleep as mortals do…thus I cannot be in paradise. I know something's amiss. My heart leaps, and I search my aching head for a memory, a clue.

I lurch to my feet, reaching automatically for my sword.

Alas, it is gone. Destroyed by magic…by a power untouched by devils or saints…

My eyes hurt, as though I've stared too long at our heavenly maker's image. It is simple to ignore the earthly pain, and I easily Will it gone. When I close the Sharingan eye, it desists…and at last the world stops spinning while I look to my surroundings.

"Naruto." I murmur. The name comes unbidden.

I quiet myself, unsure of the situation. My keen eyes reveal what a quiet buzz bespoke. Angels, Fallen and demons all have gathered here, around the ash of the fox-woman.

They pay me no mind.

I see it all in a moment. My brother, the archangel Itachi, is the only one who keeps the forces from clashing. He keeps a short leash on the Heavenly Host. I quickly note not only the Akatsuki elite, but angels of Cherubic and Seraphic orders, as well. Moreover, all are Reality-Bound, like myself.

I glimpse the newly Winged, the Fledglings on field trips, and the lower demons called to Earth by foolish magicians. The red-skinned beasts of cloven hooves prance in giddy anticipation. They are the many-footed Burrower's cousins. I catch a glimpse of the base-demons, and the base-angels that mirror them, briefly, spinning in and out of both crowds. The two dragon-like sets clash occasionally, but other than that, the two armies are still.

Quite a gathering has come together, here on the fields of ash and soot.

I look to Naruto. My friend is crumpled, like a ball of forgotten baggage. I move towards him, my heart pounding. "Naruto—"

The voice of the sea-eyed angel of death cuts my voice. "—you think you have a right to take my son from me?" the cool, heavy words are filled with anger, with pain.

The Lord of Hell grieves.

My heart leaps. I am…surprised…Naruto kept his father's identity from me, like a petty child. I had assumed the Hokage was an evil spirit…an embarrassment to the bold and bright blond.

…but he is…almost human.

Yes, I am stunned. Staggered, in fact.

Orochimaru's voice follows. "You would have taken his soul for its value, fallen one." His smile is icy, and his tone suggests contempt. "We will not have our precious child in the hands of such a snake—" the Mouth of the Lord begins to say.

Sammael's fury matches only his patience. Quick lived, but brilliant. "You, Metatron—"

"Orochimaru." Itachi quietly corrects. His black eyes betray no emotion.

The Lord of Hell stands tall, regal. His black wings unfold, and his officers—of whom only Kakashi and Tsunade are present—stand back. "My child is my own. You would never know the value of a life, a single soul, when you hoard all of them so." his voice sings, and for a moment, I can see him as the Blessed One, strongest leader the heavens ever knew.

Sammael, first of the Fallen.

He who defied the Creator when mankind came forth.

He who led my teacher and friend to disgrace.

My eyes close. How does he retain his nobility?

"You put value only to your own pale, lengthy existence," the Fallen fool charges. "You know the meaning of family not at all." His face is white, his wings black. The stark contrast surprises me. "The smallest of children could—"

This argument, I see, could last an eternity. Opening my eyes wide, I smirk.

Knowing my brothers, it very well might.

I stand, taking Naruto's form to my breast. Cradling him gently, I step forth.

The Lord of Hell stops. He looks at me with surprise and fear in sea-eyes, knowing full well what would come about if I murdered his son.

I would Fall.

Or I would rise to greater glory.

On his face, I can read the hesitation, the unspoken question. He wonders, am I the sort who would gamble this heavy burden? He clenches his hands into fists, but he cannot move. It is forbidden…to wage war when Sasori calls truce.

Though I would not put it past the Prince of Lies to ignore that rule.

This demonic guardian of disgraced angels and ghouls, he knows what would happen. What would take place if I attached the one—Naruto—member of the neutral party. Despite being the strongest in the entire underworld, he would never see his son's bright smile again…Naruto would be doomed to wander one end of Reality to the next, incorporeal and less than even a ghost. His heart would freeze, his soul, shatter…until only the memory wandered, a dim recollection of small hands and brilliant eyes.

I smirk, knowing the trump I hold.

But this is not the game I play. I call, not to the assembly, but to a higher and more perfect ear. My game, see, is greater. "Maker of all the world I see, creator of stars and bringer of life." My voice is strong.

Orochimaru turns, and his golden eyes seem to pale. The Mouth of the Truest Power, he is also the ear to our great Maker.

The moon, the sun, together in the sky in such an unnatural union. They gleam as gold as Orochimaru's almond orbs.

My Lord listens.

I speak on. "I am Vengeance.

"I am the sorrow and hate that drives mortals to and from you.

"I am the humble servant of your name." with this statement, I incline my head, but the Winged One, Naruto, is still clutched to me. I would not give up his warm, soft body just yet. I will not prostrate myself, as is fit for an angel at my station.

"But to me I hold certain truths."

All eyes are upon me. The demon children, the newly Winged, look with cold, grieving eyes.

They fear their comrade's death.

Once, I thought such human emotions impossible for the demonic sort. But my eyes are open, now.

I charge the Creator with harsh and cunning words. "You have endowed me with the Right to go to any mortal's aid who calls on me, any mortal who has need of me."

Orochimaru's eyes are white. The heavenly bodies, full gold.

I can tell…the One True Light is among us. My voice grows stronger. "And so I beseech you…" I tremble not a bit.

"Allow me authority, the—"

Each angel turns their eyes away, having heard similar, rash words before. Each Light-being holds their wings tighter around themselves, except for the heavenly archangels, the Akatsuki.

Every demon smirks a little wider, thinking one more will join their ranks. I hear quiet hisses and smooth murmurs of laughter.

My voice holds firm. I seek it. The

"Right

"to avenge the grievances of this child, this half-demon before me.

"Let me help him!"

The Lord smiles, and in an instant, Orochimaru's head snaps backwards. The crack of bone is like thunder on a quiet night, and all other clatter ceases. We wait. His wings flutter; Orochimaru turns, slowly.

Blinks golden eyes.

My heart sags. "Orochimaru," I beg. "You were human once—"

The smile changes to a cold, amused little smirk, and it stretches on pale skin. "Yes." He agrees, languidly.

"You know the touch of a loved one—"

His laughter stops me.

"—and gave it up, young one, for the grace of our Lord."

My heart stills a moment. "Lord!" I plea. "Give me this chance—"

A brilliant flash of white light, and I, with all the lower angels, fall to my knees. Similarly, the newly Winged—with the lower ghouls of Hell—they collapse to the ground, their pitiful shields broken. Sammael and his officers, Itachi and his, they are the only ones left standing.

Orochimaru laughs, and his voice carries an echo of the Light. He bears the mantle of his duties… "Arise, Vengeance, called Sasuke."

I stumble to my feet, and the Lord of Hell reaches for his crumpled son.

"Come forth." the Voice bids. Orochimaru speaks not of his own Will, but at the urging of the One.

I walk onward, and my feet cast gray ash into the air.

The Voice puts his hands on my shoulders, strong and yet light. White eyes gaze upon me warmly, and all fear leaves this frail body. "Sasuke," the Voice breathes.

I look up.

The moon and sun smile down on me.

"You may no longer Fly the heavens," the gentle tone is not that of Orochimaru's. It does not lilt, nor does it tease, it is smooth and quiet….ancient and loving.

My wings sink into my back—and for a while, the blue, lightning-like streaks of pain outweigh my sorrow. It is agony, it is fear. It is despair, knowing that this soft comfort will never fold around me again…it is emptiness. Black and bleak shades of gray over raw wounds…injuries that beg for release.

There is nothing like losing one's wings.

I would have been lost, if the voice hadn't called me back.

"Sasuke of Vengeance, you are mortal now…"

Laughter carries far on the lilting, feminine voice, and I know the Lord is gone from us. Orochimaru speaks now. I wish it wasn't him. I wish it was somehow greater…

I feel the cold tears falling down my cheeks.

I look at my brothers, Itachi, Sasori and the others. Their faces are unchanged.

And I laugh.

"Mortal," I smirk, still chuckling, still on the edge of despair. "A gift of the Lord unto me, to fulfill the task I was created for…"

Naruto stirs, and a groan escapes his throat.

My lips twitch. The lazy boy would miss the message of the Lord. I suspect, vaguely, that he did it on purpose.

"…dad…pu' me down…" he mumbles, sleepy. Despite his words, Naruto puts his arms around the Fallen's pale neck, and presses his face into soft, black wings. "Yer embarrassing me, ya shithead…" the words are faint.

I laugh, amused. Happy…frustrated. Melancholy. And I meet blue eyes squarely when they show from the double-curtain of blond and golden hair.

I smile, and hold out my arms.

The Lord of Hell releases his son, and awkwardly, the blond squints at me, rubbing his eyes.

"What the hell went on, here?" he toes the gray ash.

His face goes white, then red, as he remembers the battle. He looks up again. "Fuck you, Sasuke…" he mumbles, and flashes his middle finger in my direction. As if to say, like shit I'll run to your arms, bastard…

The thought brings a smile to my lips.

Putting my arms down, I shrug, faintly smiling.

Naruto stumbles away, towards his classmates. Sakura grins at him, in an arrogant fashion. She makes some kind of hand-signal I don't understand.

Naruto sputters, and the denizens of Hell snicker, chortle and laugh out loud at his red face.

"Fuck you, Sakura!" he mumbles, and backs away from the Winged Ones.

Then there is only Sammael left to the blond, and myself.

The father smiles, and touches one finger to the obnoxious boy's forehead. Cerulean eyes widen, and he looks at me, amazement clear on a round, sweet face. His father's gifted Naruto with the memory of our Lord's coming, I assume…given the brat the memories he slept through.

Now there's only me…taking me up, or letting me down.

I don't give him the option, this time. With speed reminiscent of wings in flight, I gather him in my arms, lift him to the air, and then pull him close.

I can smell his hair, with the fragrant taste of leaves and musk, of sweat and heat. The brimstone is fading…I can feel his hands, soft and warm—just a bit rough—against mine. I bask in the moment, and together, we spin around and around…

I can see it, then. We are…the sun and the moon, dancing in the heavens…

I smile,

and Naruto, for

once, smiles

...back.

tbc...

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