A/N: Hey guys, sorry I took so long, but school was stressing me out big time. I'm so excited about what you think of this chapter (some people were right!), and since it's been so long I'd recommend you read at least the last one so this one makes more sense.
Let me also just come out and confirm that Kabuto and Sakura are not going to have an affair or anything like that. That's not what I'm planning for him, and you'll see what I mean soon enough. Plus, I know in the manga he's like creepy and stuff but I just can't see him with anyone for some reason, least of all Sakura. She has been described as devoted to Sasuke since the start of the story and I'm not planning to change that anytime soon, especially after she feels that she owes him her life ever since he saved her.
Please do realise that he's the only person she has ever been close to after her marriage to Sasuke (apart from Sasuke himself and, previously, her mother through letters if that even counts). So know that denial can be a thing when presented with possible clues as to who he may be, and put yourselves in her shoes. Everything will be resolved through a bunch of angst and conflicts as always, don't worry. :)
And to those of you that are craving more sasusaku scenes: soon ;)))
Enjoy!
.
.
.
Sasuke's chest heaves up and down while he's laying on the soft grass, the cloudy blue sky above him. The ground feels cold to his bare back despite the warmer weather that has been threatening the Leaf village these past few days, and it's with relief that he sighs.
His blond, childhood friend sits against the bark of a tree, taking a break under its shade a few steps behind him and panting just as hard. It has been, at least, one hour since they'd started throwing punches and expert kicks here and there. Of course, none of them lethal, but serious enough to promise several bruises on their bodies in a few hours.
It's how it's always been, and it's how it'll always be with them.
Their sporadic training sessions live up to their name; few and in between, and yet intense and extreme. He usually doesn't visit because he wants to wear himself out until he can't have a single, coherent thought, yet that is what always ends up happening anyway. Not that he's objecting.
He'd visited Naruto to let him know about the Council's orders, his brother, and the possible threat to Sakura. After all of that, he would have told him his plan of action to fix it all, and he'd planned it all in his head in case of his friend overreacting, as he is prone to do.
While he tries to recover down on the grass with arms spread out and legs apart, he realises he hasn't even told him the first thing on his list. They had been so carried away by the enticing promise of a fight that he'd completely forgotten.
As he looks up at the clouds hiding the dying sun of the late afternoon, he shouldn't be surprised everything in his body aches. At times like these, the pain is welcome, soaked in by his bones at the distraction from everything else that is wrong in his life; everything that needs his fixing; everything that needs salvation.
He hadn't asked to train, but training with Naruto is the truest form of communication for them. He feels it deep within his soul—feels it in the way he momentarily forgets he may be under an impending war again—how the bruises and sweat rolling down his skin make him feel numb. It's a welcoming feeling that transcends all logic and anxiety printed in his skull; all these intrusive thoughts swimming in his mind ever since Sakura told him the truth about his nation are now gone, replaced by the nothingness of a moment suspended in time.
The clouds never stop moving, though, and eventually the glare of the sun touches his face once again. It's not as strong as before, but it still makes him grimace and groan, and this tranquil moment full of peace and quiet is broken by the sudden return of the cold, harsh truth.
The weak rays of sunlight signal the end of the day, and they remind him of all he has to say to the man a few steps behind him.
He feels the start of a headache.
With a sigh that leaves him feeling empty, he sits and gets up, the faint ache in his muscles finally catching up to him as he stretches his arms over his head.
Naruto does the same, and soon enough they're walking back to his grand Palace, well hidden in the depths of the forest. Somehow well hidden, especially since its main colour is of a vibrant red—something straight from the beloved Uzumaki clan. However, he manages to remain concealed from the world at Sasuke's expense.
Naruto doesn't live in Konoha—that's where the Shogun lives, and there is no need for him to face danger and threats in the most crowded village of Fire when he can enjoy a life of festivals and celebration in another part of the country, carefree and politics-free alike—but the climate is just the same. Instead, he hides in the middle of a forest a few kilometres South of Konoha, and stands as more of an icon than an actual Emperor. Few have seen him. Few had had the honour.
Sasuke's the one who makes the decisions in the nation here—not that he would ever tell him about his lack of importance, even though he knows he's well aware of that.
The trek to the regal, old household is not one without the crossing of rivers and hiking of hills decorated with rocks and flora alike.
Sasuke feels his body ache with every step he takes, but he tells himself that, at least, the damage only resides in his muscles and not on his skin. Otherwise, he would have to go back home with a hundred cuts, dried blood along his body, and on the verge of a war he had already managed to stop a few years back. He has no desire to stop it again, for it would have to start to begin with; and while it was fine for him to sport some bruises along his body before the news, it wouldn't be prudent to show up battered and bruised to his castle, only for the lesser of his workers to spread rumours of weakness from his part. If anyone saw him so unstable, it would affect him and his country in ways he doesn't want to think about.
He looks to his left and watches as his friend grimaces under the last lights of the day, his tan complexion seemingly golden under the colours. And Sasuke thinks it's time, in that moment of vulnerability and quiet, to at least introduce the idea. To tell him now, while they're both still worn out and tired, could prove to Sasuke's advantage. He knows it's the perfect moment to start the conversation he so has been avoiding. He stops and turns, opens his mouth to spill out the words he so craves to leave his body at last.
Naruto does the exact same thing at the exact same time.
He doesn't expect it, and his mouth closes while Naruto's opens in a foolish, dreamy grin.
"So, I've been meaning to tell you," he announces, the biggest smile plastered on his face and hands on the nape of his neck as he walks. Sasuke can only do so much but stare and nod, still surprised about his—for once—impeccable timing.
What comes next isn't what he expects, and it makes him tear his gaze away from the palace they're approaching almost immediately. He looks at his best friend and his sweaty, long and unkempt bangs stick to the side of his face with the force of the movement. Once again, he finds himself stunned into silence.
"My wife is with child," he says, and when Sasuke doesn't immediately react, the blond frowns thick, light eyebrows at him and scoffs, "Hinata, my wife. Remember?"
"Of course I remember, idiot," he retorts, kicking a pebble and taking a deep breath as he moves the words around in his head. "With child, you say?"
"Yes! We found out yesterday through good word of Shizune," he exclaims, the words tumbling out of his lips in excitement. "Can you believe it? I'll be a father again!"
They married as soon as Naruto turnt seventeen and she nineteen years of age. Their firstborns, two twin daughters, have already been married young to warlords and have been living away for some years now. It's been almost twenty years since their births. Nobody had expected the Uzumaki matriarch would bear the Emperor more offspring after so long, though nothing is ever to be expected with Naruto.
This is why it takes him so long to give him a soft, reserved smile, pat his back, and bring him in for the kind of hug he hates to receive yet loves to give—an arm hooked around his shoulders in a headlock, his fist messing up the soft trendils of hair atop his head in quick succession.
"Quit it, bastard!" He yells from the uncomfortable position. "You're supposed to be happy for me!"
When he finally lets go and Naruto gives him an exasperated, betrayed look, Sasuke can't do much but look to the front and resume his walking, his lips pursed so as to hide his amusement.
"I am, although I thought you told me your wife didn't want to have any more children," he comments, turning to see how his friend tries to catch up with him between the trees and foliage surrounding them.
"She didn't!"
Sasuke gives him an empty glance out of the corner of his eye, and watches as the blond struggles to find his words in a rare moment of silence and contemplation.
"But the girls left barely two years ago, and it's been hard on her," he admits, voice quieter and steps to match upon the mud. "They visit from time to time, but it's not the same. I guess you could say we get lonely."
As soon as he says it, he swallows and looks at Sasuke. A look of mortification crosses his features when he knows he will call him out for it; admitting he's lonely is not something he would have said within his best friend's ears if he knew how to hold his tongue better. He curses under his breath at Sasuke's coughs from up ahead.
"No shit," he snorts. "You're practically in the middle of nowhere. You should thank me for my visits because, otherwise, you would have gone mad at this rate."
This time, Sasuke expects the rock thrown at his back, and dodges without having to look behind him. What he doesn't expect is the slap on his back and the devilish grin his friend gives him as he catches up to him and pulls him closer.
"It's your turn, eh? You better make me an uncle already!"
Sasuke shakes his head, and sighs a breath of relief when he finally spots the palace in the distance.
"You know better than anyone that those are not my plans," he says. "Not now, at least."
"But-"
"Naruto," he warns, giving him a look. He should notice; look into it and know exactly why he doesn't want children at the moment. He should remember the incident. He should, and he does. Naruto notices because he knows he couldn't possibly forget, yet, for reasons that escape him, he does not stop.
"Come on, Sasuke! I can't truly be the only one having children! We are already in our thirties, you know?" Naruto adds, then shakes his head. "Time is ticking."
"It is," he dryly responds, and wishes he would just leave it at that. However, knowing Naruto, he obviously has more to say—way more.
"Does Sakura-chan not want to bear your children? Are you even intimate since you married? Considering it's you we're talking about, I bet you haven't so much as touched her in all these years. How many years has it been anyway? Three? Four, already? Damn it, bastard, but she's gorgeous! Are you legally blind?"
Sasuke feels his jaw tighten, and hopes that the blond will see a butterfly and get distracted enough so as to forget his destructive train of thought and, ultimately, stop talking. To his luck, he only persists beside Sasuke's thining patience.
"You need to step up your game! I want our children to play together, you know? Now that my wife is bearing my child and all." He punches the air with his fist, and smiles at the possibilies like the fool he is. "How awesome would that be? I know things didn't go as planned with Karin, but it's been more than a decade and-"
"That's enough, idiot," he mutters, his throat closing up slowly and his brows drawing in together, eyes narrowed on the grand building only a few steps ahead now.
How dare he accuse him of not being intimate with his wife? Of not seeing the natural, otherworldly beauty she possesses? Of not having children, laying the seed upon her womb? How dare he, out of all people, mention Karin? Him, his childhood friend, his closest confidante, the one who had to comfort him at the loss of a son when he was barely twenty years of age, not really reaching that high. Just a kid, losing a kid, losing his first wife, in the midst of a civil war.
It makes his blood boil under his veins.
And yet, through it all, he knows that it has been more than a decade since her death, since his son's death. Sakura has shown to want children of their own, but he hasn't, which has led them to be intimate, as Naruto gently puts it, only a couple of times in the four years they have been married.
It dares bother him a little, he thinks, just how much truth he finds in his friend's words.
"I do not want to hear any more of this nonsense."
"Oh come on! I was just messing with you, Sasuke. It would just make me happy, that's all."
Naruto shrugs his shoulders in exaggerated disappointment, and Sasuke can only sigh and look at him through the corner of his eye, the fight leaving his body as fast as it had come.
"I came here to tell you something important about our nation, not to discuss my love life, or how I handle it."
As the seconds pass and they keep walking, he notices that something is out of the norm; not quite right. Naruto is quiet—far too quiet, actually, to be considered a normal occurence with him. When Sasuke looks, he's wagging his eyebrows at him in a fashion he knows too well.
"Oh, so you could say you love her, then? Please, do tell me more."
When Sasuke shoves him, his boisterous laughter resounds from the trees, making the birds residing there take flight at the sudden disturbance. Suddenly, everything between them is the same again.
"Let us celebrate the great news you bring with you," Sasuke interrupts the blond's laughter, making him gradually stop. "I fear mine are not worth celebrating much, my friend."
Naruto ignores his dark, doomed comment, and opts for naming the different kinds of new liquor he has acquired over the last few weeks since they'd last shared a bottle of alcohol.
Sasuke only sees the approaching castle, and replays the events Sakura had told him that fateful day, wishing nothing more than to forget them, but having to relive them until they have drunk themselves to oblivion. Usually, that's when his tongue is the most loose.
He thinks about Sakura and the idea of seeing her with child; with his child, their child. Her soft smile and her green, green eyes looking at him as she caresses her lower abdomen; as she glows with life inside of her. Would his son have eyes as green as hers? Would he sport the same light, pastel hair, the colour of fine sand? Would he disobey as much as she does, display her own fierce character at every inappropriate moment, and have an inexplicable fear of animals? Would he enjoy the gentle art of medicine, but serve alongside his father in battle when needed be?
His clan has been known to only look one certain way: with dark hair and dark eyes and pale skin. It's only so long before he realises these questions are just mere fantasy, and not actually something that could happen.
Sasuke wonders, yet it's futile to do so. On the verge of an impending war he's trying to avoid, there's no time for matters like these. Naruto may be able to spend his days procreating, eating and sleeping all he wants, but Sasuke doesn't have that luxury. He has made his mind up.
They enter through the tall, impending gates of his home, vibrant red on the outside and a softer red on the inside. They pass by the staircase and walk toward the dining room, only to turn left right before that. They enter a hallway and go inside the room furthest in the back. A simple enough room, with a few cushions on the floor, a table in the middle, and the two walls facing the gardens open so as to gaze upon the beauty of one of the many wonders of this house.
Naruto takes the news lightly, as expected from a man so infuriatingly optimistic, yet not as expected from the point of view of his closest confidante. The war took a hard toil on him the first time, especially since the first driving force of the war—the event that started it in the first place—was the assassination of the previous, beloved Emperor: Uzumaki Minato. A charismatic, vibrant person who only had the best in mind for the country and, ultimately, Naruto's father, who died only hours after he was born.
Back then, before Danzō and before the Uchiha Shogunate, the Emperor took care of things. Day and night, he was the driving force of the nation of Fire. Most villagers were happy, but peace can only reign for so long in a divided state, and one man left to govern an entire nation was no easy feat. Considering there were no warlords back then, Sasuke's surprised he even lasted for so many years as Emperor. A beloved, trusting Emperor, yet not strong enough to answer one nation's demands of union and better resources.
In the end, it was Danzō who almost made the nation of Fire fall to ruins, succumbing to disorderly orders and broken armies of untrained soldiers. Fighting a battle he was not meant to win, the Uchiha took the opportunity, and ruled over.
Up until now, but hopefully for many more years to come.
Naruto takes the news better than expected, agrees to his precautionary plans of action suggested by his advisors, and offers him another bottle of wine. He only stays over the night because he falls asleep right there, in that room with his best friend and the drowned knowledge of his pending responsibilities, after the third shared bottle.
.
.
.
After much convincing from his part over the days, Sakura finds herself—at last, but not really—with two vials full of snake venom in her hands. Forehead shiny with beads of sweat from staying under the sun from the early morning until the early afternoon, she sits next to her mentor on her favourite bench. Thankfully, the tree over them fully hides the unforgiving rays of sunlight. Thankfully, the light breeze coming from around them makes her skin feel less sticky—not ladylike at all, as her mother would say.
It's definitely not ladylike when she grabs the hem of her loose shirt and swipes it across her forehead to rid herself of excess perspiration. With a bit of luck, nobody ever sees it.
Kabuto looks at the flasks in her hands and extends his hands so as to take them, and she gladly hands them over. Regardless of how much she hates meddling in the field in search of small venomous snakes, it's either that or the lack of chores she has to complete inside the castle. In a way, this is the only form of entertainment she gets on a daily basis.
If that were to go away, what would she be left with? There are no more hobbies for her, not anymore. Painting is boring to her nowadays, reading has become too repetitive, sewing is mundane if she has no one to gift the garments to, and riding one of Sasuke's horses is out of the picture, period. Every one of the castle's maids looks at her with hesitance, always close enough to let her know what clothes to wear and at what time to eat, but far enough to never really speak more than the necessary.
If that were to go away, would she rely more on Sasuke? Would she ask him to spend his days with her, if only to not succumb to eternal madness, trapped in his castle, with no one else to talk to? Would she beg and cry for attention? Would she ask to ride his scary, big horses, even? Would it really come to that, in the end?
She doesn't want to think about it, but the possibility of Kabuto disappearing from her life is something she needs to get used to. She doesn't necessarily want her only form of entertainment, her source of varied medical knowledge, to walk out from her life just like that.
She knows that, if she were to talk to her husband about the half-empty pennyroyal oil flask and its implications, there's a high chance that she wouldn't see the healer again. Even at the mere mention of betrayal, of poisoning Karin and his firstborn, she doesn't know up to what lengths Sasuke would go. Even if Kabuto is not actually guilty of anything related to the oil or to the woman's demise, she knows of Sasuke's impulsive personality all too well. Kabuto would not hear the end of it.
But she also can't stay quiet and suppress her doubts. She won't tell Sasuke—not for the moment, at least. She won't ask Kabuto directly—that would only prove to be a careless and thoughless mistake from her part.
But she can dance around the idea, and ask indirectly. Get the answers she needs, without asking the questions.
She looks to the side, slides her bangs behind her ear with one hand, and frowns with feigned curiosity at the man. He looks at her almost immediately.
"I was wondering..." She trails off, looking down at the ground below them and the few specks of dirt that have delved themselves in between her toes, the few sticking out from her sandals. "How long have you been the Uchiha clan's healer?"
Kabuto answers without a beat, as if he somehow had been expecting this exact question.
"For just over a decade, my lady."
Sakura thinks her words through for a few seconds, knowing full well that she could raise suspicions with the wrong set of words, or with the wrong tone.
"I see," she voices, nodding and leaning back into the backrest of the wooden bench. "Could I share with you something rather personal? In confidence?"
If his ears perk up or his eyes light up at that, she doesn't turn to see. It's all about appearing nonchalant and uninterested, and she only looks up at the sky to add to her genuine interest.
"Yes, of course, my lady. I would never tell a soul of your disclosure," he says. And he sounds so soft, so convincing, so unable to hurt a soul, that she almost dismisses her plan altogether.
Almost.
"Then, I want to tell you of a woman my husband disclosed to me a few weeks past. His first wife, Karin, with whom he married relatively young. She passed after she lost her unborn child."
At this, she spares the man beside her a glance, and watches as he gives nothing away. From his posture to his eyes, he doesn't show he has been affected by anything in her carefully crafted words.
"I was wondering, since you have been here for so long, if you knew her. Could you tell me about her?"
Kabuto nods slowly and sighs, looking away from her eyes after a second.
"Yes, my lord's first wife. I barely got to know her, it was a brief thing. She passed a few weeks after I became the official healer of the clan."
Sakura hums in agreement, a faraway look on her face as she speaks, her voice small and her hands on her lap in fists.
"Pray tell, what was she like?"
When she receives no answer for a few, long seconds, she looks at Kabuto. This time, she notices his subtle squirm and the uncomfortable look on his face, if not for his tightly pursed lips. Sakura smiles reassuringly, or so she hopes.
"I mean no harm," she says. "Even as my husband talked about her once, you must already know how secretive he can be, and I could not bother him with such trivial questions. I am merely curious, you see."
His expression changes drastically, suddenly, and he offers her an understanding smile with a chuckle for added relief before he speaks.
"Ah, in that case, I hope I can speak candidly," he says, and at her nod, he continues. "As I said, I met her later into their marriage. I suppose it was a rather quiet affair, but she did behave much differently from you."
At this, she raises an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Well, she would always follow my lord around everywhere he went. Around the castle, outside the castle, and even some of his battles."
Sakura blinks when she thinks she hears incorrectly, but by the calm resemblance he's showing as he talks, this may be nothing but the truth and only the truth. A confused look crosses her features, and it's not because the man is speaking the truth, but because the idea that Sasuke first wife had so much freedom only gives her stomach a turn.
Not only was she apparently allowed outside the castle's walls, but she was also allowed to join him in his battles? Did she learn how to fight? Did she ride alongside him, helping him kill the enemy like his equal? The thought is almost strong enough to bring her breakfast up her throat and out of her mouth.
"She always seemed enthusiastic, and cared for my lord deeply. Though, in confidence, I must say the late Itachi-sama never took a liking to her."
This makes her stomach settle, if only for a while more, as she listens to the words of reassurance coming from Kabuto. It makes her snap out of her thoughts, and it reminds her of the true purpose of this whole conversation. Clearing her throat, she nods at all the information and looks at him.
"From a medical perspective, what do you think was the cause of her miscarriage?"
If before he was quiet and passive, showing a cold facade that gave nothing away, now she can clearly sees how he looks away and hears how he swallows forcefully. If not nervous, then scared.
"Well, I was the one who treated her during the complications of her pregnancy. For one, she would always deny the rest required for her fragile body," he murmurs, eyes looking at a point on the ground, deep in thought. As if, maybe, he's reliving a real, genuine memory. "The weight of providing the first son in that generation of the Uchiha clan rested on her shoulders, and that added to the stress from the ongoing civil war got to her, unfortunately, in the form of a miscarriage."
"The stress, you say?"
Sakura thinks his words through, and she can't deny there's a certain level of logic in them. His story makes sense from end to finish and, for a moment, she finds it hard to find a fault in the tale.
And then, a few seconds later, she finds every single fault in his logic. The stress of the civil war led her to lose a baby? What stress? All Uchiha Karin had to do at six months in the pregnancy was probably lie down and count the days. She may have had the opportunity to go with Sasuke to several, different battles, but Sakura highly doubts Sasuke would have been careless enough to let her fight whilst carrying his son in the womb; with a noticeable, ever-growing stomach.
No, the stress wasn't it. She doesn't know of any complications during her pregnancy, or any bad habits either. And yet, her husband had told her the story just detailed enough for her to notice that, back then so many years ago, the miscarriage had been a complete and utter surprise; a thing out of the blue; something unexpected. If there had been any complications during the pregnancy, he would have mentioned it, at least.
And as much as Kabuto's explanations seem to carry the truth in them, there's something that doesn't sit right in her stomach. Something is off, but she can't quite put a pin on what, exactly, is making her suspicious that this might not be the whole truth.
In any case, she has got out of him more than ever expected, and that is a victory in itself. If Kabuto's telling or not telling the truth, she doesn't know. More than that, if Kabuto has got anything to do with Karin's miscarriage or her clan's demise, she only has to be patient. She will find out, one way or the other, and she will help her husband and her country first and foremost, even if she has to doubt the person closest to her at the moment.
Just then, a guard comes rushing out from the door of the castle, and immediately bows to Sakura as soon as he reaches their seated forms.
"My lady, my deepest apologies, but I'm afraid Yakushi-san has been summoned," he says, the words coming out faster than she can catch them. With a raised eyebrow, she blinks away the confusion and looks at Kabuto for less than a second.
She looks at the guard and clears her throat. "Summoned? By whom?"
The nameless guard, with his blue and red and white helmet on, hiding everything in his face but his eyes, doesn't meet her gaze in learnt respect as he speaks.
"By my lord, he requests Yakushi Kabuto's presence at the moment," he states, watching as Kabuto gets up and hands the vials to Sakura. "Follow me."
"Should I not fetch my medical equipment? Is that not why he requires my services?" Kabuto asks, pointing to his small cottage, all the way in the distance, past the expanse of grass and flowers and forest.
The guard only turns and shakes his head. "No services necessary, only you."
Sakura stands as they leave, watching even after they have entered the castle and probably gone up the stairs to her husband's office.
The vials in her hands need to be dropped off at Kabuto's hut, she knows, for she has sweated and stood under the sun and risked her life trying to get the venom with the man. There's no point in thinking over what could be happening in that office right now, so she starts walking toward the little house without thinking it twice.
.
.
.
The guard leads him up the stairs to the second floor, as expected. They turn to the left and turn again to the right in order to enter a long hallway, and they walk until the last door at the end, as expected. Kabuto hasn't been inside the castle too many times, but he's made sure to map it from corner to corner the few times he has. Knowing Sasuke's main office is the door at the end of the hall, it surprises him when the guard stops before they reach it, and slides open a door to the right of the hallway, not quite far but not quite close to his office. This he doesn't expect.
The guard blocks his view of the place, but he leaves soon enough, and Kabuto's left by the door not a second later. The room is simple and small, with a table in the middle and two cushions between the table so as to sit on the floor. Nothing too extravagant, he thinks. There are red flowers on a vase and incense burning on another table. Sasuke sits on one cushion, looking at him as he inspects the room as quickly as he can. Behind Sasuke, there's a large, tall window that looks over the back of the castle, the gardens, and part of the forest.
Kabuto bows, and closes the door behind him.
"Kabuto, I am glad you could make it," Sasuke comments, motioning to the seat in front of him. "Please, sit."
Kabuto knows he didn't have any other choice but to show up, but he still nods and does as told. He sits, clears his throat, and looks at the table so as to not raise his gaze up at his superior. Just then, a maid opens the door with a set of tea in her hands, and starts setting everything up on the table.
"My lord, how may I serve you on this day?" He asks, eyes following the maid's movements as she serves them tea.
Sasuke waits until she's done, and only when she's done sliding the door closed behind her does he speak.
"I remember the last healer," he starts. "When I was a child, before the tragedy of my clan, I still remember. A kind and old man, from what I can recall, and very loved by our people."
Kabuto takes a sip of his tea, and notices Sasuke's hands remain hidden beneath all his layers of cloth, and his long, finely crafted sleeves stay still on his lap. If he's not sharing this moment with him, it can only mean this meeting is a little more serious than anticipated.
Sasuke watches his every move behind his long bangs, and thinks his next words through.
"In all the time that you have been here, have I ever come to you for assistance?"
He leaves the cup back on the table and shakes his head.
"No, my lord. You have never suffered major wounds from any battles fought. Only soldiers have come to my aid," he explains.
When Sasuke nods and finally reaches for his own cup, Kabuto releases the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Sasuke takes a sip and leaves it again, frowning ever so slightly at the sweetness in the herbal tea. He never picks it up again.
"Only soldiers, yes, but I have not fought with my army in months, even years," he pauses, and waits until he sees Kabuto nod, agreeing even though he is clearly intrigued as to where this is leading. "Then, answer me this. How have you been keeping busy, if there is no one to heal?"
Kabuto stays quiet for a few seconds, and smiles without meeting his eyes before he speaks.
"Why, by collecting new species of plants and studying them. I have also started my own research on an antidote for snake venom with-"
"With?"
Kabuto stops himself, and curses himself silently for this slip-up. A careless, inattentive mistake, and one he knows Sasuke's aware of. He knows Sasuke knows the name he was about to utter. It's a mistake that he knows, and as Kabuto lifts up his eyes and spares his superior a quick glance, all he finds is a confirmation to his suspicions.
Sasuke, for a moment as he looks at Kabuto and analyses his words, touches the hilt of his hidden sword under all the layers of clothing.
"You are allowed outside the castle as you please, and you are provided a house of your own within the castle's perimeter for added protection. Would you say you have everything you need?"
Kabuto nods. Of course he nods; he would be a complete fool to make another blatant mistake in front of him. "Yes, my lord. I am treated fairly and accordingly under your rule, and I greatly appreciate that. May I ask the reason behind this sudden interest in my well-being?"
At this, Sasuke's hand leaves the sword, and he sighs at the question he had been waiting for since the beginning of this meeting.
"I see you are confused as to why I called you here. Very well," he says, and stands from the floor, walking toward the window slowly and deliberately.
He stops right in front, looking out at something Kabuto can't see from his angle, something that is only the main reason for this summoning altogether. Sasuke looks down, and watches as Sakura walks in the distance toward the castle, arms crossed and eyes downcast. Her hair is in a ponytail behind her, and her step is lighter with only thin, long pants and a shirt to cover her small body.
He has watched her on the field with Kabuto the entire morning, so there's no need to wonder why she's not wearing her usual, delicate dresses, or why she doesn't have her hair down and flowing as she usually does when she's around him. Sasuke follows her step as he talks, the words leaving his lips with newfound strength.
"You are not to teach my wife anything else, starting with the end of this meeting. Unless it's because of a medical emergency, you are not to see her again," he states, losing track of Sakura as she enters the building. "The next time I hear she is with you, I shall find a healer of my own choosing."
As he says it, he thinks back at all the times he should have done this; sooner, way sooner than just now.
"What an entertainment my healer must be."
"You mustn't think that."
"Though I wish I had spent the night with you instead," she says, moving the razor up the side of his neck, signaling she's almost done with her work. "Yakushi is not my husband, after all."
"Is it possible something else has caught your attention?"
"He is not my husband. You are."
He gives the older man a chance to process the news, and turns around when he thinks it has been enough. Apart from the noticeable tenseness to his shoulders, there is nothing that can give away a change in his mood at what he has said.
"Yes, my lord. What shall I do if she approaches me instead?"
He walks back to the table, close enough to almost stand over the man but far enough so as to watch him. Looking down his nose at the silver-haired man with disinterest on his face, he watches as he doesn't cower, or shrink in himself, or shake as so many have before him.
"Make sure she doesn't."
.
.
.
Kabuto doesn't see Sakura on the way to his cottage. The sun is soon going to be hiding under the horizon, and he must be quick. With some ink and a paper, he takes three minutes to write an encrypted, short letter. He closes it securely, and sends it to the village with the royal messenger of the castle, Deidara, hoping only that it reaches its destination on time.
.
.
.
It's only three days later when he's inside his small, homely cottage that he sees a shadow outside. It's late at night, and not even the moon above him is enough to illuminate the gardens around him, but he knows not to be scared. He has gone through this enough times to know what it is.
He unlocks and opens the door without waiting for a knock, and smiles as a hooded figure appears at his front, wasting no time in ushering him inside so as to lock the door again behind him.
When everything is set and quiet, he walks around the room and turns off each and every candle because, even though the castle is a couple of minutes away from this remote place in the hill, he'd rather not risk anything—anything else, that is.
"Do you know how many more guards Sasuke has positioned around the castle?"
Kabuto turns to him and clicks his tongue.
"Don't you think I know that? This couldn't wait, regardless."
"If only they weren't stationed right outside the tunnel now, I wouldn't have a problem."
Orochimaru takes off his hood, and frees his long hair of his low ponytail at the same time he sits on one of Kabuto's stools, not really sparing a glance at all the burnt, used and abused herbs and equipment on the table behind him. "Well?" He asks, looking at him with a raised, delicate eyebrow.
Kabuto sits on the stool next to him and turns to face him.
"Something has happened," he starts. "A few days ago, Sasuke threatened me. He says I can't see Sakura anymore, and if he sees I do then I'll have to leave."
There's a pause, and a moment of complete silence after that. Eventually, Orochimaru nods and runs a hand down his hair.
"Interesting," he lets out, and if he hadn't turned off all the candles, he would be looking at one of his crooked, long smiles. He gets to catch the dark chuckle that escapes him, though. "What have you done to make little Sasuke-kun jealous? Are you... seeing her behind my back?"
"It is not like that. Things have been tense ever since we let them know the truth," he explains, sighing in exasperation when his partner doesn't take it as seriously as he had hoped. "He's also being extremely cautious about the safety of his wife, which is why he's not letting me—or anyone—near her. I also believe she's suspicious about our plan from a conversation about Uchiha Karin."
"Our plan? Karin?" After a few seconds thinking it over, Orochimaru's eyes lose their amusing gleam. "We knew how risky the situation could get when we decided to uncover the truth. This is nothing we can't handle."
"How are we going to handle it, then?"
"By changing our strategy; by adapting to this change," he explains. "You say you mustn't see Sakura anymore? We will stand down for now."
Stand down, he says, when standing next to Sakura had been a pivotal part of their plan. He must be next to her, or everything crumbles, which is why he's more than confused as to what he's proposing should be the solution.
"But, Orochimaru-sama, the only way the tea works is by administering it bi-weekly. If I have no contact with her, I can't let our contact inside the castle know, and there would be no way for me to-"
"She will not be taking it from now on," Orochimaru says, nonchalantly, as if this means nothing. As if this didn't contradict what they have been working on for years now, or go against everything they have been believing was right.
He leans back until his back touches the wall, and closes his eyes for a second of contemplative peace, and all Kabuto can do is look on. Look at his master, mentor, and partner, and wonder what could possibly be going through his mind. In the end, he has no other choice but to voice the obvious problem in just not administering the tea anymore.
"She'll bear him a child, master."
Orochimaru opens his eyes, then, and looks at him like a mother to an insolent, uncomprehending child.
"I am well aware. By not drinking it, any possibility of creating a child is, once again, restored. You best pray the withdrawal will not harm her, Kabuto. At this point in time, she needs to grow life inside of her."
"Why? Why now, and not before? I thought our plan entailed something else."
"We did need her infertile, but things have changed now, as you have explained to me," he leans forward in his seat, talking no more than a whisper in the small space between them. "It is in our best interest that she bears him a son, my dear. Especially now that she may already have some doubts about her own fertility."
Kabuto, finally starting to understand where this is going, feels a smile creeping on his face as he leans closer, finding logic in his friend's words.
"After all, what best time to start our operation than this one? This child will be his weakness, mark my words."