Sasuke's Cherry Blossom
Part 5
A/N: - Hi all. Chapter 5 up! I'm on vacation now, so you know what that means……(!) Free Time is no longer a fleeting butterfly; it is a lethargic tortoise whose back I can sit upon and gloat evilly.
Note: - About Naruto, and his being the Kyuubi….. I mentioned before that his friends (which basically includes everyone at the meeting) are now aware of his identity. I just realised that I should probably give some details or a little background info on how they found out, how some of them were freaked out, and how long it took for them to get used to the fact; maybe some of them had suspected that there was something strange about him, and stuff and crap like that, but I'm lazy. Really lazy. Really. So……..
Disclaimer:- I was looking at my birth certificate yesterday. Funny; it didn't say Kishimoto Masashi.
The cloaked man abruptly shortened his next leap and landed on the nearest branch. The bundle in his arms was wriggling, and he couldn't take the maddening distraction any longer. He held the blanket up to a golden ray of light that the afternoon sun emitted, and looked the thing in its eyes.
They were eyes unnervingly like his own; pitch black and well-deep, set in a pale, chubby face. These eyes, however, were happy, warm, trusting, and radiated a purity, an innocence that the only other two existing Uchiha men had lost aeons ago.
Nonetheless, they were his father's eyes, and the same could be said about the soft, curling hair. It was the same cobalt hue, and the nose was just as straight and short. The forehead, however, was his mother's, as was his disposition. The child wouldn't stop grinning that toothy grin, or making that joyful, gurgling noise. Itachi stared balefully and jadedly as a healthy amount of drool dripped from the baby's mouth onto his sleeve, darkening the colour as it spread.
Itachi thought that the boy's happiness could be due to the fact that he mistook the person holding him for his father. He and Sasuke had always looked remarkably alike.
Ah, Sasuke. His always foolish otouto. Itachi smiled grimly to imagine him now; stark with ire and incredulity, fear forming itself in his bones, panic solidifying in his throat, running around, putting things together, making plans, looking, searching……. and once in a while, stopping to console his sobbing cherry blossom.
Itachi's eyes narrowed to remember the pretty girl at his brother's side. There had been something about her, something so damnably pure and undiluted that he had found himself wanting to wring out of her, even as it made him want to possess her. Sasuke's cherry blossom, eh… …? Something that resembled rage simmered beneath his surface, and his grip on his nephew tightened.
The infant giggled as if he was being tickled, and Itachi turned his attention back to him. He relaxed his hold, and the child took the opportunity to giddily try for a swipe at his captor's nose, giggling all the while. The man jerked back abruptly, eyeing the boy warily.
"Tu-sa, tu-sa!" Kisho gurgled happily. It took Itachi a while to figure out that the child was trying to say 'father'. He glared at him mildly.
"I am not your otou-san."
"Tu-sa!"
The hooded man sighed. He wrapped the child within the folds of his cloak, quietly demanded that he stop squirming, and continued his swift, silent journey throughout the forest. The tiny bundle that represented the first step towards reviving the clan calmed down.
Sasuke………
Eleven years ago, when Sasuke had been relentlessly pursuing him with the fervor of a wounded heart rent with loathing, Itachi had not been concerned with him. He had had far more important obligations. Sasuke was nothing but a pest, a bother.
Since then, all attempts to capture Naruto and harness the power of the Kyuubi had failed, and the Akatsuki had disbanded, driven apart by conflict. There were too many warring personalities and power-hungry natures within the group. Their ambition had brought about their downfall, and imminently, the dissolving of the organisation.
Now…… now, he was ready for his little brother. Now, he would let Sasuke entertain him. He would see…..
On a frigid, windy night a long time ago, when the luminescent moon had coaxed shadows out of crevices, Itachi had told his otouto some very important things. He would now see how well Sasuke remembered. He had set a challenge, and his little brother had yet to rise to the occasion. The hate…. it was diminishing, and he planned to drive it back into Sasuke. Forcefully. Jarringly.
And the child……
Itachi smiled thinly and blandly. Little Kisho would be the perfect medium with which to test him.
He had thought briefly about using his brother's wife. Even now, her almost disturbing pulchritude haunted him. Her satin skin, her uniquely coloured tresses……Sasuke had indeed caught himself a prize. But she…… she would come into play later.
A chubby little hand reached up to tug on his midnight hair.
"Tu-sa!" the infant said cheerily, his two brilliantly white teeth standing out like pearls in the oyster-like flesh of his gums.
"I am not your otou-san," the pariah reiterated, a tad irritably, eyes locking with those of his nephew.
"I am your oji-san(1)."
Ino jumped down from the ladder, a thick, dusty volume encased in her arms. She succumbed to a tiny fit of coughs before dropping the book on a small table and dusting it free of the dirt and cobwebs that had accumulated with time.
Over at the lager table where he sat with Chouji, Kiba let out a low whistle as he hunched over a scroll.
"It says here, on one mission to Takigakure no Sato, to eradicate a notorious group of blood-thirsty thugs who were terrorizing the people; Itachi's platoon awoke one morning to find him missing. He wasn't anywhere in the area either. When they arrived at the Waterfall Village that afternoon, they found a pile of dead bodies – later identified as their targets – and their platoon leader laid back on a tree branch nearby, cleaning his weapons. He told them that he had gotten restless during the night, and needed something to do, so he'd decided that he might as well complete the mission." Kiba shook his head. "The guy was eleven," he added in awe and disbelief.
Ino joined them, hefting the book unto the table with a dull thud that sent billows of dust particles into the air. Kiba scowled at her as he coughed, while Chouji merely waved the dust away from his face and kept on writing patiently, intermittently taking a chip from the bowl next to him.
"Wow," the blonde said, flipping pages and scanning them slowly. "Eleven years old? He really was amazing. Geniuses like that only come around once in a millennium. It's too bad he had to go and….. well, you know."
"Gotta wonder what drives a guy like him to do something like that," Kiba commented as he absently scratched behind Akamaru's milk-white ear. The muscular hound growled his pleasure.
"Kiba, should I put down that last thing you said?" Chouji asked. He was writing down all the useful information that they found in a scroll, later to be duplicated by a jutsu that Ino knew.
"Nah, it's not necessary," came the answer. "It's more or less just an example of his skills."
"Here's something," Ino piped up, a long fingernail tracing a line in the tome she was perusing. "It says that in the Uchiha clan, there exists a variation of the Sharingan, called the Mangekyou Sharingan. Over the years, only very few of the most skilled Uchihas have been able to acquire it. Doesn't expatiate though, or say anything about the jutsu itself." She looked up. "Hmm….. I think we should include it. Itachi was the clan's greatest genius, so he's probably able to do it. I think it's safe to assume in this case."
"Okay," Chouji said, and commenced writing again.
"That should do it, shouldn't it?" said Ino, snapping the book shut after a few more minutes of reading through. "I think we've compiled everything that's imperative."
"Yeah," Kiba agreed, getting up. He glanced out the window of the Hokage's library at the moon. Judging by its position, it was about eight o'clock. They'd been working for almost ten hours straight. The Inuzuka male felt cramped and restless, full of pent-up energy. He wished he was going on a mission tomorrow morning.
Ino gathered up all the books, scrolls and reports that they had used as references and began putting them away. Kiba assisted her as Chouji put the finishing touches on the scroll.
The door to the library creaked open, and Shizune's head poked in.
"Hi!" she said cheerily. "Refreshments!" She stepped in, holding a tray with three cups of hot ramen.
"Ahh….." said Kiba, going over to help her, succumbing to the lure of food and completely forgetting about the fact that he was aiding Ino. "And not a second too soon. We just finished." He took the tray from Tsunade's assistant and set a cup down on the table for Chouji, and the other one next to Ino. He settled down on the couch with his own.
"Oh, you all are done?" asked Shizune, a little shocked. She propped herself up on one corner of the table. "I thought you all would have gone well into the night." She nibbled on her lower lip. "Hmm…….I should probably inform Hokage-sama. It really is important that the two platoons leave as early as possible. We don't want Itachi to cross the border of the Fire Country before they get to him." She followed the scroll's journey through the air as it sailed from Chouji's hand to Ino's. "Considering everything there is to be said about this missing-nin, and all you had to look through, you all made pretty good time. Are you sure you've covered everything?"
"Yup," Ino assured, in the midst of performing the seals for the Duplication technique. "We included a brief history of his life, the dates of his promotions, his known skills, techniques he's known for using, personality sketches as described by fellow platoon members, a few examples of the extraordinary things he's accomplished, a few mission reports, and a couple of paragraphs on his partner, Hoshigaki Kisame for good measure."
"Good, good," Shizune murmured.
"So, the two platoons are leaving tonight?" enquired Kiba, feeding Akamaru a noodle.
Shizune nodded.
"It would be best."
"Shikamaru's not going to be happy," Chouji commented.
"That lazy-ass," Ino muttered of her boyfriend under her breath as she presented Shizune with the scrolls.
"Thanks." The raven-haired kunoichi picked up the tray and walked to the door. "I'm going to inform Tsunade-sama. The platoons should be leaving in a half an hour."
"Humph. I guess I better go tell him bye." Ino cleared away all her stuff and got ready to leave.
"Just one more thing," the Godaime's attendant called out. She held up the scrolls. "They're detailed, right? It's really vital that they are."
"Yeah," said the blonde. She was poised on the windowsill, ready to vault onto the rooftops. "We made sure of that. Right Chouji?"
The thick-set man grunted an affirmative, not pausing to look up from his miso ramen.
"There's one thing, though," the blue-eyed girl continued. "The Mangekyou Sharingan. It's a variant of the Sharingan, and we're pretty sure that Itachi possesses this doujutsu, but we got no information whatsoever on it. The book just mentioned it in passing." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Actually, Sasuke-kun should know, shouldn't he? He should be able to tell y'all about this Kaleidoscope Sharingan."
Sakura finished packing her pouches and got up from the table. She walked over to the bedside stand, and as she placed the four pouches there – two for her arsenal, two for medicinal supplies – the forgotten familiarity of the action jarred her momentarily. This would be her first mission in a long time.
Sasuke was still over at the desk, cleaning his weapons. The corded muscles in his back were tight and tense as he worked. He wiped each kunai swiftly in a fierce, angry rhythm.
The atmosphere was saturated with tension and intensity.
Sakura sighed, and climbed into bed. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard not to think about plump little hands grabbing her cherry locks, and popping it into a mouth full of spittle, to clamp baby gums around it, chirping, "Ka-sa, ka-sa!" She laboured not to remember that sweet little face, so reminiscent of his father's, so often turned up in a squeal of delight; alight with the laughter and joy of the innocents.
Her lids fluttered rapidly, blinking away tears. She had to be strong; she had to keep her composure. They would get him back, or perish in the endeavour. That was a surety.
Sasuke got up from the table, finally finished, and placed his artillery, along with his white tiger mask, next to her supplies on the nightstand. He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat above the covers, the weight of his frame jostling her slightly. He did not speak, and nor did she. They remained immobile in the suspended silence for a few minutes, their simultaneous lugubriousness mounting a barrier between them.
Presently, her hand snaked out from beneath the sheets to clutch his where it lay near his thigh. She gave it a little squeeze, trying to search behind the waterfall of navy-blue hair to find his eyes. Seconds passed before she felt him give a little tug in reply. Relieved, she spoke, softly.
"Come on, get in bed, hmm? You need to rest for tomorrow."
He swung his legs unto the bed in answer, but he did not lie down. He pulled her palm into his lap and enveloped it in both hands, rubbing and caressing it absently. Soon, he turned to face her, and his onyx eyes bore into hers.
"I will get him back," he intoned solemnly. "I promise."
"We will get him back," his wife amended.
The Uchiha survivor heaved a sigh and shook his head. He eased his hands away from their entwinement with hers to rake them through his hair.
"This is my fault." It was a statement, made flatly and morosely.
"Oh, Sasuke, not that spiel again!" Sakura sat up in bed, frustrated. She was tired of seeing Sasuke try to shoulder the blame for everything that went amiss.
"I should have seen to my brother years ago," said her husband, harshly and darkly. "I knew something like this would happen, and still I let him……" He cut himself off with a worn sigh. He remained taciturn for a few moments before continuing. "This time, when the life of my son, someone who is infinitely precious to me, is at stake, I will not falter. This time, for sure, I will kill him." His tone was cold with conviction.
Sakura swallowed a little, and her indignation abated as worry and uncertainty took over. She grasped his hand tightly.
"Will you use it?"
He heaved another sigh.
"I don't see how I can avoid it. To beat him, I'll have to use it."
Geranium locks quavered as the kunoichi shut her eyes vehemently. She knew she had promised herself that she would not cry, but a few errant tears threatened to seep past the cordon of her closed lids.
"God, Sasuke," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his torso. "I'm so afraid. Kisho……. I don't know if I can stand losing him."
He drew a ragged breath, bringing his left arm around to pull her closer.
"Neither can I." An image of his son flashed before his eyes; simplistically happy as he tottered around the bedroom, just bubbling. "That's why we're going to fight, with everything we have, and then some. Itachi will not have our son," he pronounced, his right hand slipping under his pillow to grasp a kunai. In the next moment, it was lodged between Naruto's index and middle fingers. The blond grinned widely from his perch on the windowsill. A gust of wind blew, and the white curtains billowed about the Kyuubi vessel.
"Not bad," he remarked of his best friend's perception, reflexes and aim as he threw the trajectory back. Sakura swivelled, perplexed to see the godfather of her child framed in her bedroom window.
"Naruto…..what are you doing here?" Sasuke's tone vacillated between anger and annoyance.
The blond smirked. There was a light in his corn-flower blue eyes, and Sasuke identified it immediately. It was one of anticipation, eagerness, excitement.
"Kiba and they have finished the research." The smiled broadened considerably. "Get your things ready. The mission starts now."
………………
A/N:- (1) - In case you didn't know, or couldn't guess, this means uncle.
The plot is thickening…..hmm. Hope you liked that scene with Itachi and Kisho. I just thought, Itachi + happy-go-lucky one-and-a-half-year-old ………? Hmm…… I was thinking of injecting some more humour into it, but that would have ruined the mood.
I was reading the summary for this fic, and I realised that it's no longer appropriate. Can anyone come up with anything that lets people get the gist of the story, but doesn't give away too much? Thanks. The title can stay, though. I believe I can make it work.
Next update….. yeah…. well….. we've spoken about this, haven't we?
(Hint, hint – ) I write faster (and better) when I get lots of nice reviews. Nudge, nudge.