A/N: We're finally here! This chapter's a breaking point—one of the major deal breakers (plus, someone tardy and lazy we know makes an appearance, and a blonde woman you guys should guess who is but you probably know). I've been so excited to write it and now for you guys to read it for SUCH a long time. Hoping you're not lost and actually get every reference, and maybe even make some connections that I'm going to leave open for now. And yes, this is a bigger chapter than the huge realisation from last chapter, as hard as that is to believe (which I'm so glad you guys liked! I was so excited to write those last sentences ajdfkfbvgfkb).
If you didn't get it last time, my updates and the-like will be announced on the Tumblr page amrakloveofficialfanpage, courtesy of my beautiful, very loved and appreciated crazy friend, who also asked uchihasss on Tumblr to draw a Sunrise-inspired piece for Christmas and it made my day. Go check it out on my Tumblr amraklove! It's literally everything.
Your reviews always make me smile. Thank you to all the people who wished me a good finals week; I passed all my classes if you'd like to know ;) and I know I've been taking forever to upload chapters, but please be patient, I try my best. I don't like uploading chapters fast unless I'm 100% comfortable with them.
Also, it's officially been 2 years since I first published this story! How crazy is that? I'm like not even halfway through lmao, rip af.
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and Happy New Year!
Enjoy!
Victory is reserved for those who are willing to pay its price.
- Sun Tzu (544-496 BC).
It's a few weeks after the early clan head meeting that they do as promised, and more. At the very start of July, Sasuke is presented with Hyūga Neji, Yamanaka Ino, Rock Lee, Tenten, Nara Shikamaru, and Inuzuka Kiba. He has it in his understanding that Neji will be in charge of espionage and stealth, Ino will teach Sakura how to extract information and interrogate, Lee will teach her how to fight and how to maintain endurance, Tenten how to use most weapons in ways which will benefit a woman, Kiba will teach her how to track for the slight possibility that she is found and has to escape, and Shikamaru will be in charge of strategic action.
Horseback riding, deceit, and illusions are left to Sasuke.
He clears his throat and allows everyone to sit, looking at each person and devising a plan.
"I will have a room in the castle for each one of you, for as long as you stay. That all depends on how you deem my wife ready in whichever field you all are responsible for; since you are the experts, I trust you make the right judgments," he starts, voice calm and collected. There are nods from each future teacher in the room. "Now, I will provide everyone with the necessary tools to-"
The door suddenly slides open and a grey-haired, mask-covered middle-aged man steps inside and closes it again without a bone of shame in his body, and all Sasuke can do is stare. Naturally, everyone else in the room turns with gasps heard here and there at the revelation of who it is: Hatake Kakashi, the best copy-cat warrior in the nation, and one of the oldest, too.
"Yo," he announces, a hand up so as to greet everyone.
Sasuke can't believe his eyes, but he shouldn't have expected better from his former, childhood teacher anyway. By now, he should have known the man would be incredibly, fashionably late to any form of event he'd be invited to.
"Hatake Kakashi, everyone. He will also be a part of this mission," Sasuke says, giving the older man a very sour, very unhappy look that he hopes he notices.
"Sorry I'm late, I must say I am terribly ashamed," Sasuke almost snorts at this, but watches as he tries to find a seat on the floor with every other person in the room. "I got lost on the way to the castle, unfortunately. See, I moved from Konoha to another smaller village a few years back and, well, I forgot where I was," he finishes with a small chuckle, the room still silent as every person stares dumbfounded at the audacity of this man.
Sasuke sighs and wisely chooses to ignore him. Logically, he also ignores the small chuckles and shocked expressions on some people's faces.
"In any case, I am glad you could make it, Kakashi."
The man in question gives a nod and smiles from under the dark mask that covers the lower half of his face. Most people wouldn't notice, but Sasuke has known the man for decades; he takes notice of the small wrinkles that form in the corners of his eyes with the content gesture.
"As for everyone else, I will now give each one a specific task, which you can expand on as you see fit," he breathes, looking down at the desk in between them and going through the list of people with different skills he had written down before, the ink slightly rushed but impeccable. "Neji, espionage and stealth. Lee, close-hand combat and endurance training. Tenten, weapons mastery. Ino, interrogation and infiltration tactics. Kiba, tracking abilities. Shikamaru, strategic planning. Kakashi, sword and arrow training."
A unison of affirmation is heard across the room, and then it falls silent.
"Of course, not all of you will be working everyday; there are just not enough hours in a day. You will be notified when I have the final, weekly schedule that will be implemented. For now, you are all dismissed."
As expected, Kakashi and Shikamaru stay in the room, but everyone else leaves a second later.
He sighs and adjusts the low ponytail behind him, his hair already grown past his shoulders and touching the middle of his back.
Kakashi speaks first, one knee bent and a hand resting on it in a casual, familiar way. Sasuke doesn't mind the familiarity he only lets certain people have around him. After all, the man had taught Itachi how to fight, and then him and Naruto before tragedy struck his clan down. Itachi had urged him to continue teaching the two young friends as he was already getting older—with Itachi approaching his mid-twenties and Kakashi his mid-thirties—but, when Itachi fell in succession, Sasuke had ordered Kakashi to retire to whichever place he fancied the most.
It's been four years since he last saw him; that should make him almost fifty years old. For a man bordering his fifties, he's not even looking rough around the edges or on death's door, something very common for Samurai. And for that, Sasuke is glad.
"I have yet to officially meet your wife. I remember seeing her at the wedding, though—a lovely woman," he notes, trying to make small talk, it seems. "I heard your plan, and I think what you're doing is very clever."
Sasuke raises a brow in question.
"And why would I doubt this?"
"Someone told me you didn't like it, so I'm reassuring you that it seems like a good choice, however biased."
Sasuke wants to pay him no mind. He looks at him and nods, then directs his gaze to Shikamaru so he can fill him in as necessary—he doesn't really know how much Kakashi knows of their situation, really—when he captures his attention again.
"How's Naruto? Is he well? Still thick in the head?" He asks, tenor maintaining a leveled tone throughout. Almost, Sasuke thinks, as if he's bored with the topic.
"You are right to assume so," Shikamaru interjects, murmuring the words toward Kakashi, even though Sasuke's aware he was meant to hear them too. It brings a small, amused smile to Shikamaru's face.
"Oh, I miss that kid and his annoying little face," Kakashi says, smiling under the mask and looking from Shikamaru to Sasuke when the latter decides to engage in whatever impromptu conversation they're having.
"His wife is with child, did you know?"
Kakashi's eyes widen, and he shakes his head.
"I was unaware, no. How long until the birth?" He inquires, a sense of excitement lacing his voice now.
Sasuke has no idea, if he's honest. He tries to think back to the time when he had been walking back to Naruto's palace from a rough training session, and the moment he had told him Hinata was pregnant, but it seems so far back. Back to a slightly colder climate, ready to turn into full-on spring. His estimate is that she is between three to five months pregnant, but he's well aware this is nowhere near the precision he would like to have.
He can't give it much more thought as the door to his study is flung open by two of his most trusted Samurai: Lee and Tenten—a woman and, in fact, the only woman who has risen so high as to become the Captain of Konoha's division and one of the best weapons masters in the country. With Lee as a General, the duo are one of Sasuke's best in the field, knowledgeable and experts in what they have been doing for years on end.
So when they both open the door without bothering to knock, panting as if hell has been chasing them back to this room, and with a clear, urgent look in their eyes, it instantly makes Sasuke stand. He watches as the other two men in the room do the same, and frowns with caution at the apparent urgency of the upcoming message, bracing himself against any news they must be bringing him.
"Close the door," he states, his voice no longer pensive and quiet as when he had been talking with Kakashi and Shikamaru—they, knowing this might be important, stand to the side and look at the newcomers in turn. "Report."
When Lee comes in, he doesn't expect Tenten to come in with someone else by her side. She's dragging a tearful woman by the forearm, and by the distinctive kimono she wears, Sasuke has no doubt she is one of the maids of this castle. She struggles against the strong woman's grip for a few seconds before Tenten has to almost shove her inside, and Sasuke visibly flinches when the maid cries out in frustration.
Sasuke's frown deepens with the scene unfolding before him.
Lee slides the door back again and closes it, then both warriors stand a few steps before Sasuke, still catching their breaths but being smart enough to bow in his presence.
The maid begrudgingly does the same, hiccups coming out of her mouth while doing so.
"Enough," he orders, hand up for them to stop bowing and start explaining this unacceptable behaviour. "What is the meaning of this?"
Tenten speaks first.
"Sir! Upon visiting the old woman's house—the house where Kabuto-san was once seen coming out of—Shino talked to her, and she has a grandson who is very ill," she explains, and Sasuke can do so much as listen to the rushed words. "Kabuto had been giving her medicine to cure his sickness and, in turn, he had her do him a favour."
Sasuke only looks as Lee seizes the crying woman by her other side, looking at her as if she's worse than the dirt on the road everyone steps on.
"Moegi has been administering lady Uchiha a tea made directly from Kabuto-san, if only because he's not allowed inside the castle, and he, in turn, promised her he would take care of her son."
Moegi, he repeats in his head, looking at her young face as she cries in front of him with her head down. He remembers her.
She has orange hair and rosy cheeks, eyes of a deep blue with tears streaming from them, and he knows she is the wife of one of the soldiers of his official army of samurai. He also knows Konohamaru has been on a year-long retreat to a village far from here, however.
Sasuke knows of this woman, and he almost feels sympathy for her in that moment.
But then, like a thin but pungent needle, the words finally work their way under his skin, and all he sees is a slow, ever-so vibrant red overtaking his vision.
He breathes out from his nose slowly, finding it hard to even look at her and opting to look at Lee and Tenten.
"Thank you, please leave us," he bites out, trying to be as formal and polite as possible in this situation. The worst thing he can do is get his mind out of control and his temper unchecked by this new information being thrown at him in the heat of the moment. With matters concerning his country's welfare, he must remain calm.
Shikamaru and Kakashi still stand to the side quietly, but he pays them no mind—quietly and cleverly, in fact, knowing quite well not to meddle.
When Lee and Tenten leave the room, he takes a deep breath and decides to make sure this is all the truth being spoken—to get to the bottom of this, especially without making assumptions. He simply sits back down on the cushion and looks at the woman in front of him with a small table separating them, face set in stone despite the growing confusion and anger festering his insides.
"I need you to calm down, sit, and explain all this," he tells her, voice quiet but eyes hard on her shaking form. When she can't take a breath without choking on her own attempt at inhaling, his patience falters. "Explain, now!"
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.
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Mebuki opens the door a little before the sun settles under the horizon and lets the wrinkly, deteriorating woman with brittle bones and heavy knees in her humble home. Her husband is out on a mission to another village, so she doesn't worry too much about that at the moment.
She closes the door after looking outside for any peeping, wondering onlookers, and approaches the woman and the little boy she carries by the hand.
Mebuki smiles at the lady and pats the boy's head, feeling a sense of relief at seeing him walk after being bed-ridden for years.
"Hey, it's so great to see you! Allow me to let her know of your arrival," she assures the old woman, turning around and leaving the main area. "Please, sit and make yourselves at home."
When she comes back, the boy's grandmother is still standing—barely, but she tries her hardest in her old age—and the child is rubbing his red eyes at the sleep he only wishes to get soon.
However, when he sees the blonde woman come out right behind Mebuki, he erases any traces of sleep and runs to her, hugging her in a tight embrace, or as tight as his still-weakened arms allow him to. The tall, hazel-eyed woman smiles down at him and welcomes the embrace with one of her own.
"Hey kiddo, I'm glad you're doing good, how's your stomach? Does it hurt?" She asks, dropping to his level and watching as he shakes his head while he still hugs one of her legs. She directs her sharp gaze up to the old woman, who already has watery eyes and a shaky smile on her face. "How's he eating?"
"He is eating just fine, thank you. I came by for his weekly checkup, lest something goes wrong. Although, with your impressive skills, I highly doubt it."
She's wiping her tears as her little grandson pries himself away from the blonde medic and walks back to her, grabbing onto her leg's cloth.
"No problem, I was expecting you guys here soon anyway," she says, smiling at her and holding out a hand toward the little boy. "Let's go see if you're up to par with your medicine, yes?"
The blonde takes the kid by the hand and leads him to another room in the back of the house. Only when she's sure they're gone does she turn to a smiling Mebuki, who offers her tea by the small kitchen. The grandmother, frantic and in a sudden state of panic, grabs her hand in a hurry.
She widens her eyes in alarm.
"What's wrong?"
"My dear, I was paid a visit by some of the castle's officials about my business with their official healer, Yakushi Kabuto," she hurries on, her voice low yet firm. "They threatened me and my grandson, so I was forced to tell them that he used to give me Sora's potion, which helped his illness little by little. Of course, never enough to heal him completely as you have done so generously, but enough to make my daughter keep helping him."
Mebuki blinks several times, digesting this information and turning it in her head. She nods, grabs her hand, and leads her to the common area, helping her sit before she sits right in front with a concerned frown in place.
"Did Kabuto ever tell you what he had your daughter do?" She asks, unaware of what's coming.
"No, but when the men finally decided to give up and leave with no real answers, I overheard one of them say the word Sakura," Mebuki blinks, startled. "That is your daughter's name, right?"
Mebuki nods slowly, unsure of what that might mean.
"I fear it might have something relating to her at the castle, yet I know nothing of her favours to Kabuto. Surely it should not have been something harmful. My Moegi could not possibly do something of that nature, so rest assured," she mentions, then smiles at her through yellow, decaying teeth.
Mebuki smiles back, though it's full of worry and it's more empty than genuine.
"I'm sure they will be just fine," she says, or so she hopes.
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.
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Moegi sits in front of Sasuke, a table separating them, while Kakashi and Shikamaru dutifully stand to the side of the room. Sasuke hasn't moved since he last told her to explain herself, only waiting patiently as she tries to breathe deeply and calm herself down.
It's a slow, painstaking process to observe, but Sasuke would rather stare at her for hours on end before losing his temper and forfeiting his only chance at getting any kind of information. He would have her banned from the village at the bare minimum for any and all rebellions against his ruling; killed otherwise, but he's trying his best to stay impartial to the new turn of events.
Eventually, minutes later, she drags the sleeves of her formal kimono over her wet cheeks and sniffs twice. And although tears still fall silently down her previously dried cheeks, she speaks with a much more calm voice; laced with fear, but calm enough for Sasuke to understand what she's trying to say.
"My son, Sora, is barely seven years old. He has always been a fragile child, always sick and in bed, needing this or that ailment. It's originated inside his stomach, and since it is not superficial, not everyone can treat it. However, when your healer heard of his condition, he immediately offered to help," she stops, hiccuping and covering her mouth after.
Sasuke raises his chin, looking her down the bridge of his nose in guarded curiosity.
"What did he want in return?" He asks, touching the hilt of the longer sword hidden under his robes.
She seems taken back by his question, and looks toward the floor in shame.
"My lord, he wanted me to help him deliver something inside the castle."
At her vague statement, he clicks his tongue.
"What was it?"
"Something which he could not deliver from the outside, as he is not allowed inside without your permission," she answers, still looking down toward her lap.
Sasuke wastes no time and unsheathes his Katana in one swift motion with his left hand, pointing it in her direction. Slowly, he raises her chin with the tip of the sharp, polished sword, feeling her tremble through the blade.
"What did he ask for," he demands, slowly, enunciating every syllable and making himself very, very clear. If not a threat, then a warning.
The young woman's chin wobbles slightly, but she closes her eyes hard and answers him all the same.
"My lord, he gave me bags of tea every two weeks. He specified they were solely for Lady Uchiha, but I never knew of their contents," she stops talking when she feels the blade press further on the sensitive skin of her neck. "I swear, I never knew! I was only following orders to help my son, please, you must understand!"
Sasuke should feel the urge to plunge the sword in her and run her through. It would be easy. And yet, as he looks at her and learns of these news, all he feels is a sense of unmasked disgust in the form of a strange, gut-wrenching feeling that only makes him want to throw up right then and there.
For a moment, he forgets how to breathe at the implications of Kabuto, a man he has never really trusted, finally doing something so bold as to give his wife meticulously-handcrafted tea with contents he does not want to even think of.
And then, as if the present time returns to him like whiplash, he frowns at her and doesn't attempt to lower the sword even as he finds his voice.
"Have you any bags in your possession now?" His voice sounds raspy, as if he's running out of air, as if he can't breathe.
"A few months ago, he stopped giving me the bags entirely. However, I still have the remnants of one, and my son has been healing with the help of a healer from another village I believe."
"Bring it here," he orders, then lowers the weapon and places it flat on the table as a warning that he's still not lowering his guard around her.
"Yes, my lord!" She bows, gets up in a hurry, bows again, and leaves as quickly as she had come.
Sasuke intently stares at the spot where she had left from, knowing not what he's to do, but sure about something: Sakura's in danger.
Sakura's in danger because, somehow, a woman has been administering a specific kind of unknown tea into her cups every two weeks, without anyone knowing, and Kabuto has been behind this. Kabuto, the man he has been suspicious about for months; the man who he had ordered to stay away from Sakura once and for all weeks ago.
His trusted healer, once more proving he is not to be trusted at all.
And yet, as he's not aware of the contents of the tea bags, he lets himself relax and not come to conclusions much too quickly, or else he'd be on his way to murder the man on the spot with no qualms about it.
As it is, he patiently awaits the arrival of the maid, his calculating eyes never once straying from the ajar door.
Kakashi takes a step forward, and Sasuke quickly picks up the sword and points it in his direction, eyes not looking away still.
"Do not," he warns, lowering the sword back down onto the table when the older man takes a step back. "You are not my teacher anymore. I will do what I see fit."
That seems to quiet him, and Sasuke rolls his shoulders back as he waits, his stance showing off an air of not being in any type of hurry.
When the distressed girl comes back with the small bag in her hand, Sasuke raises his hand and halts her in her steps before she can get to him like before.
Looking at her straight in the eye, he commands her in a serious tone, but low and serene. The soothing tone could fool anyone into believing the rage under his skin is not there at all.
"Leave it on the table, then call for the royal head Chef," he lowers his hand, then takes his sword and sheathes it again under his dark robes. "I want you gone from my compound immediately. In less than twenty-four hours, I want you gone from my village, and if I ever see you inside the country I rule, you and anyone associated with you will be killed by my orders."
He sees her swallow, but he wants to make sure she understands.
"Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, my lord," she says, timidly looking down with her hands in front of her dirty dress, tears threatening to spill over again.
Sasuke waves at her dismissively and watches her leave, then spares a glance toward Shikamaru and Kakashi.
"Pleased, I hope?"
Kakashi shakes his head and sighs.
"It being you, I guess this is the best outcome for that poor girl," he expresses, coming closer to Sasuke and sitting on one side of the table. "Don't you think you were maybe a little too extreme, though?"
"Out of the country is what she gets for threatening the Shogun's wife, Hatake," says Shikamaru, who sits on the other side of Sasuke and looks at the tea bag on the table.
They all stare at it for a few seconds, wondering what it could be, but not having enough knowledge to even begin to make an educated guess.
"I rule out poison. It must be something far too slow to manifest itself on the outside; after all, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary with her health in all these months?"
Sasuke looks at Shikamaru and toward the bag again, a million outcomes playing in his brain every second that passes by them without definitive answers.
The fact he hasn't noticed anything strange in his wife's health condition doesn't mean there's not something else there. His frown deepens, but by the way he avoids the question, both of his close confidantes don't speak another word.
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.
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Chōji looks through the bag, smells it, takes out its contents, smells them again, separates a few crushed leaves that look all the same to Sasuke, and looks at his superior straight in the eye.
Sasuke, after waiting on baited breath for ten excruciating minutes, only looks back at him expectantly. "Well?"
"Whoever put this together made an excellent job. Because of the impeccable way in which the green leaves are mixed with something else, I will say this can either be spearmint or pennyroyal, my lord," the Chef says, muttering it as if it should be common knowledge.
Sasuke frowns and gives a brief glance to Shikamaru and Kakashi, but they seem as lost as he is.
"If I may, I could explain what this means," Chōji sighs, and does as such when Sasuke only gives a hesitant nod. "See, if it is spearmint, that would just gift the tea with a subtle peppermint flavour. However, if it is pennyroyal, it can be quite toxic for humans in large amounts. That's only in large amounts or, even worse, as an oil—very lethal. But here, with the crushed leaves and in such small quantities, the most it can do is act as an abortifacient, maybe cure headaches, and cure small diseases if careful enough," he finishes.
Sasuke stares at him, then looks at a point beside him as he thinks this information through, yet he barely understands.
Kakashi speaks, then, but Sasuke doesn't mind the forbidden interruption, especially since the question is one he has been wanting to ask as well.
"Abortifacient, you say?"
"Abortifacients have been used before in women who do not want children, yes, and it is very effective compared to other methods, though chronically painful if effective," he explains further. "As I work with condiments constantly, and if this was found inside Konoha Castle, I would say this is most definitely pennyroyal. Spearmint is not imported into our kitchen. However, pennyroyal makes for a nice, quick cure for headaches."
He dismisses the man at once, then, strangely feeling a certain sense of numbness toward the contents of the small, brown bag.
Toxic in large amounts; even worse in the form of oil; an abortifacient with crushed leaves and in small amounts; can cure headaches; can cure small diseases if careful enough; an abortifacient.
An abortifacient.
Abortifacients have been used before in women who do not want children.
Abortifacients have been used before in women who do not want children.
Sasuke's axis shifts slightly, then, as time passes by him, and he feels dizzy for a second too long in which he sees everything around him spin.
The meaning behind those words only makes it harder to breathe, harder to grasp one single coherent thought in the myriad of worries than dance around his mind, but it only makes him hyper aware of Kabuto's intentions all along. Because, even though the head Chef had told him more uses for the plant, only one seems to stick out in his head.
Only one makes any sense to him—even though, for the life of him, it seems hard to imagine why Kabuto would want to make Sakura purposely barren only to stop supplying the herbs abruptly a few months ago. He had given her the tea for months, years as far as he's aware, after all, only to stop suddenly. Was the treatment for only a set amount of months? Did he administer the tea for long enough to make sure Sakura wouldn't be able to carry children in the future? Does it take a certain amount of limited times to administer it in order to make it permanent? Did he suddenly change his mind and decide for her to bear him a child? For what purpose, if that had clearly not been his original plan? What had been his original plan for anyway?
What had changed?
Sasuke feels his confusion give in to sadness for the future he may never have now, the future that may or may not have been snatched from his hands, far before he could even begin to mold the idea in them. He lets a few images pass by him in quick succession, too quick to really consider and think about, but strong enough to make an indentation in his very being.
And when it hits, when he finally realises what this means, when there's nothing else for him to mourn about, he feels his momentary sadness quickly turn into unrestrained, blood-coiling, bone-chilling anger. An anger he hasn't felt since his childhood home was destroyed by Danzō during one war too many days ago. And, even then, it didn't compare to what he feels now; now that he's older and comprehensive, and his consciousness is aware of what is actually happening.
The image of his long-haired, cheerful wife holding onto her swollen stomach, so full of life and with his—their—treasured child turns into the image of a crushed Sakura as he tells her the news, and it turns into the image of Kabuto, begging for help as he crushes each and every one of his bones under his bare hands; he knows no weapons would do the job, really, or appease him in the slightest.
For Kabuto has lived far too long and through far too many mishaps, and his time has run out this time by a long shot.
God, all Sasuke wants to do is snap his neck and beat him into the earth until the morning, scream until his throat is raw and wasted, and- and how can he even face his wife now? How can he look into her hopeful, beautiful green eyes full of life and tell her the one thing that is so fragile between them can never become true now?
He simply can't. He knows how important the subject is to her, and he would be lying to himself if he hasn't entertained the idea of his wife carrying life inside of her ever before. Because he has. Because he loves her. Because he can't stand the idea that all this fucking time they have been deceived by Kabuto and he hasn't even questioned why the few times they've been completely careless she hasn't got heavy with child.
By the time he sees straight again and his head isn't spinning, he notices Shikamaru and Kakashi are by the door, standing, ready for orders as they sense the murderous aura sprouting from their leader.
Sasuke, face set and lips pursed in a straight line, puts aside his feelings on the matter and gets up with more trouble than usual, stumbling a bit in his vulnerable wake.
"Take him by force into the cells under the castle for interrogation," he manages to order, watching as they nod and run out of the room at once.
Sasuke watches, helplessly, as they do as told.
All he wants is to end the man but, as it has always been, he needs to be interrogated for further information on Sakura's well-being and his future plans.
As usual, his country always comes first.
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Sakura spends most of the day on the fifth floor of the castle, usually desolate of any living soul except for the occasional maid who tries to check up on her well-being.
She reads a total of three medicinal books Sasuke had recently brought her from a village across the country he had visited a week prior. The gesture hadn't been requested, and it had been unexpectedly sweet of him to remember she loves to read—in addition to already having knowledge in the art of healing and possibly loving it even more than just reading. She had politely thanked him out in the castle's main hall area, then thanked him more privately in the darkness of their room that night.
Surely, he will make it a goal to acquire more books for her each time he travels to another village now.
She feels her cheeks redden with the memory as she notes down that a mixture of lavender and lemon in the form of a balm can reduce stress on the margin of one of the books.
After a few more minutes, and right when the sun has finished dipping under the horizon, Sakura decides to close the third and last book, placing it back on the shelf after contemplating whether reading with a few candles can compare to reading with the brightness of a sunny day.
For today, it has been enough reading, she thinks.
With this in mind, she heads down to the second floor and walks to her room, hoping her husband is already done with the long meeting he had told her he'd to conduct at noon. She only hopes it's been enough time for him.
When she slides the door open and closes it behind her, she raises her gaze and finds her husband already inside, hands scrunching and pulling and ruffling his hair at the front, switching to having them crossed across his chest as he desperately paces around the room.
He's angry.
It's the first thing that crosses her mind, and she can tell he's been angry for a while now by the concern that decorates his brow and the tenseness to his shoulders.
She takes a few hesitant steps forward, then, finding it hard to think he really hasn't noticed her already—just how angry could he possibly be, and for what reason?
He suddenly stops pacing around the room, with his back to her, as he looks outside the only window and into the approaching dark sky above them. He stares beyond the trees of the forest, beyond every obstacle in the path, trying to pin down a small cottage she knows too well—unbeknownst to her, of course—basking under the serenity of the twilight above him.
Sakura takes the few remaining steps to be right behind him, touches his forearm, and surrounds him in place, coming to stand by his side instead.
"Sasuke-kun?"
Her touch doesn't startle him, but it doesn't particularly soothe him in any way either. In fact, it only seems to make him tenser. Sakura frowns with concern up at him, trying to catch his troubled gaze to no avail.
"Sasuke-kun," she repeats, this time moving to stand right in front of him. "What's the matter?"
And as soon as her soft hands come to rest on his cheeks, and he locks his stormy eyes with hers, she gasps at the pained expression he makes in that moment. His watery eyes narrow, his lips tremble slightly, and he looks away quickly as if trying to stop himself from shedding any unwelcome tears right then and there.
If Sakura was concerned before, she feels scared now.
"Look at me, what happened? What's wrong?" She asks, trying to coax him into looking at her again, but all he does is sigh and shake his head.
"I should have- I didn't-" He starts, then swallows the lump in his throat as the words get stuck. Sakura has never seen him falter so much, but stuttering, too? She doesn't know what to make of this, or what to do, but something is definitely wrong.
I should have protected you, he wants to say. I should have protected you and I failed.
Sasuke looks toward the floor and carefully—gently, softly—pries her hands away, walking back toward the bed and sitting on the edge, a hesitant Sakura trailing right after him.
He has to tell her. He knows.
As much as it pains him, and as much as he wants to keep this from her, it concerns her too. It affects her directly, actually, and she deserves to know, maybe even more so than he does. After all, the herbs were given to her for months without her knowledge or consent.
So he looks up at her from his slouched, sitting position, takes a deep breath that rattles his tired bones, and tells her everything. He tells her of the old lady at the house in the village, of the maid in charge of giving her the tea as per instructions from Kabuto, and of the meaning of said herbs. He tells her everything as she sits next to him on the bed and, when he's done, all is quiet in the room.
At first, he expects her to be quiet for a while as she processes the words, but after a few minutes with no response, he turns to look at her. It's strange, really, when she's always the one with the quick wit and reply at the ready, while he's slower with matters as sensitive as these.
Now she's only quiet, looking at a specific spot on her lap, hands holding tightly to the skirt of her traditional attire as the time passes by them.
Even now, Sasuke would still give anything to march down the steps of the dungeon and punch Kabuto until he has no more teeth left in his mouth. He only wants to release this anger, this searing pain inside of him, so when she only stays unresponsive, he feels his patience run thinner and quicker than usual.
"What's on your mind?" He asks, then repeats it when she doesn't so much as notice. "Sakura."
But all she's thinking is that, somehow, all along, she has been checking the pennyroyal oil inside Kabuto's hut and it has been in vain; instead, it has been used in the form of crushed herbs behind everyone's back. She'd had the correct theory in the end, which gives her some sense of comfort, but she had been looking in the wrong place. And, even then, she had only been looking to find out Karin's cause of the miscarriage, nothing even remotely close to her inability to carry children in the womb.
What reason could the man possibly have to make her completely and utterly barren for months, and perhaps forever?
Before any real reaction can come out of her and before her raging thoughts take her away someplace else, she notices Sasuke is still waiting for her answer.
She had listened to him explain something so delicate, something so fragile to them both, watching as his voice never shook and his words were never slurred. As she looks at him now, sparing him a glance for a second, she sees his barrier coming down. She sees the tired look in his eyes, the defined cheekbones and the dark bags under his eyes, but what really stands out is the fire being reflected off his being—his eyes, shining from the candles around their room, holding the flames in them in an infuriated, enraged state as he looks at her with more than he can muster.
She decides, then, that enough is enough. She needs to tell him the truth now—if not for his own peace of mind, then for the country they are trying to protect.
Knowing there is no knowing how he will react, and knowing there is no going back, she takes a deep breath.
"A year ago, back when I was training under him, I found pennyroyal oil inside a flask. Knowing your first wife's fate and being aware of what pennyroyal is used for, I started checking it from time to time, and it never went down, obviously because I was looking at the wrong medium. I never thought..." She explains, a faraway look on her face. "I wanted to see if it was being used on me, but it never crossed my mind he would be using it as a herb, inside my tea, through a maid of the castle."
Sasuke exhales a deep breath at that, feeling the same kind of betrayal she is feeling inside of him.
"I mean, was it presumptuous of me to corroborate my suspicions? Ultimately, not being with child yet was eating at me; it didn't make sense and, although we do not speak of it, you must think the same."
She looks at him, but he does not want to face her after that last statement—hurtful, he will admit, but true nonetheless.
"He's down in the cells. I will talk to him, then he will be executed," he mutters under his breath, finding the courage to turn his head to the side and meet her sparkling eyes. The fact he had not mentioned who will execute him does not matter. It's clear as day there is no one else who could do the job but himself.
In this, she agrees. Even when he has only been amicable toward her, he has also been plotting against her behind her back, and to compromise her life is one thing, but to compromise the future of the Uchiha lineage? Unforgivable.
He sees the fire burning inside her wide green-eyed gaze; she sees the pent-up rage inside his dark grey-eyed stare.
"What is the purpose? Why would he do this?" She asks, thinking it to be obvious, but still so inexplicably hard to muster in her brain. She takes a second or two, and when she's sure he won't answer her rather rhetorical question, she asks exactly what she's been thinking for a long, long time. "To get rid of me? To ensure there is no future Uchiha patriarch?"
Sasuke replies almost mechanically fast; clearly, they had been thinking the same thing.
"Think bigger. He could not have done it just so."
And, in a way, it's true. Kabuto could have it in him to conspire with Orochimaru and who-knows-who else, but he wouldn't be able to carry out a plan all by himself just on the off chance that she truly will not carry a child in her womb. He could be behind the plotting against his lands, but he would only be a part of that plan, not the mastermind behind it.
To bring the downfall of an entire nation, one has to do more than make the Shogun's wife infertile, she thinks. Which is why, as she speaks again, she knows her husband will catch on and realise just what has been deduced in her head.
"Unless," she interjects. "It is to bring misfortune to the Uchiha clan and, ultimately, all of its lands," she says, and he sees her point of view just as fast as she imagined he would, but she proceeds with her eye-opening conclusion. "However, the only part we are sure of is of his herbs, nothing else. He should be unable to carry out such a great operation only by ensuring I am not with child."
"Kabuto must be a pawn in a bigger game. There has to be something far greater than him that's controlling everything," he adds.
"The council, Orochimaru, your soldiers," she starts listing.
"Or something else."
It makes sense, all these conclusions seem to point in the right direction and it's way more progress about his nation's welfare than what he has found out in months, but it's too much information for him for one single day—really, even more so for less than four hours altogether.
He nods to himself and drags a hand down his face, sighing as he tries to think with his head and not his betraying, beating heart telling him to do something else than just use his rationale.
Sakura looks at him and ponders, for a second, unbeknownst to the turmoil inside his head, if this would be the perfect moment to tell him about the tunnel under Kabuto's cottage. After all, if they are revealing the truth left and right, why would she not take the opportunity to tell him something so vital?
On one hand, that would be more incriminating evidence against Kabuto, and that could help with the interrogation later on. On the other hand, she might not see her mother again if she tells him. Even more so, she might lose the trust he has in her if he finds out she has been sneaking behind his back and risking her life and the nation's security for her own personal, incredibly selfish reasons.
The risks outweigh the benefits, really, and still, she can't help but want to tell him everything. Now that they're closer to the truth, now that they are both vulnerable already, now that she doesn't want to think about the idea of never being able to give birth in the future because of someone she has been protecting for months—someone who has now stabbed her where it hurts the most.
She doesn't want to think about her empty womb and her inability to give Sasuke heirs to the reign, and she doesn't want to think about the implications of what that might mean for her own future—either being replaced by concubines to ensure the heredity of the Uchiha Shogunate, or worse, separation, banishment, or death by his own hand.
She feels her eyes water against her better judgement, and the words are out before she can stop them.
"I found a secret tunnel under Kabuto's cottage a few weeks ago."
Sasuke's head snaps up faster than she has ever seen it do.
His eyes are wider than usual and his hair is tousled and wild from touching it too much in his frustrations, and he looks completely, unabashedly feral in that moment.
She prepares herself for the worst, but it never comes.
Sasuke only stares at her and frowns at her declaration.
"A tunnel," he states. She nods.
"It leads to both the outside and inside of Konoha."
"And have you used it?"
"Once," she declares, finding her voice somehow. After that, she sees different emotions cross his face faster than she can make them out, and before he can lash out at her and banish her to sleep at the stables, she tries to excuse her reckless, unforgivable behaviour with rushed words. "To see my mother. I came back right after and I have not done it again. I understand the dangers I exposed myself to, as well as to the nation for keeping the information from you. I implore you to forgive me, please."
As much as she expects him to simply burst in anger, he just... doesn't. He only stares, and stares, and stares until she feels her skin start to itch and her heart start to beat in her own ears. She feels him staring even as she looks down and bows her head.
"Very well," is all he says. Then, after a few more seconds, he nonchalantly adds, "I will ask him about that as well."
And Sakura's at a loss of words. She raises her head and watches him move to stand, and she grabs him by the sleeve of his attire, stopping him from moving further. Where this desperation comes from, she's not sure, but there's something about the way in which he looks past her confession that doesn't quite sit right with her. She should leave it alone and accept this quiet forgiveness from him, but she can't.
"Did you not hear me? I escaped. I ran away. Are you not to do something about it?"
Sasuke's face shifts from passive to something slightly more aggressive; slightly more incriminating.
"Would you want me to?"
She opens her mouth, but closes it right after, finding he has stunned her into silence for the second time in under a minute. And really, what had she expected, anyway?
Sasuke glances down at the grip she has on his sleeve, and when she lets go, he chooses to instead stand directly in front of her seated position.
"Sakura."
She looks up at him, her breath catching in her throat at the pure, shameless, tender look he gives her down the bridge of his nose. Before she can even begin to question his intentions, he reaches out with one hand and grabs hold of her chin with his thumb and index finger, lightly squishing her cheeks in the process.
There's something dark dancing in his eyes, but then something so gentle, so loving, that renders her put instantly.
He feels anger, but he also feels worn down. Exhausted, really. And all he hears in his head as he looks down at her is how horrible he has been for her, to her, and at her.
He wants to let her know it'll be alright, just fine, and to not worry. He will take care of this whole mess. And, who knows, maybe Kabuto could not finish his entire plan for some reason and she's not really infertile.
He wants to let her know she means so much more to him than she probably thinks. He wants to let her know he's not mad about her escapade to the village, only slightly upset—upset, but not surprised in the slightest. He wants to let her know he never meant for her to feel the need to escape from him and from this life. He wants to let her know that he's aware if he had let her see her mother all the times she asked, she would not have escaped, and she would not have kept the tunnel a secret from him up until now.
He wants to let her know she has been an incredibly caring and dutiful wife. She has given him everything he's wanted, and even more. He wants to let her know he has not been the best he could have been for her, and he hasn't been trying enough. He wants to let her know he loves her—he wants to scream it for everyone to hear, wants her to know, know, know. He wants to let her know he would give his life for her, and all his dreams, and all his duties as Shogun. He would give up all of it, and she has no idea.
"I'm sorry," he says, and it's all he can say, his voice but a whisper in the quiet room and his hand moving from her chin to her cheek, up to weave through her cotton-soft hair with affection.
She gasps as he displays the same pained expression she had seen on his face earlier on, and she doesn't know what he's apologising for, but all she knows is that her heart is beating too fast and her soul is aching for this man in front of her.
"It's not your fault, silly" she says, holding his other hand in her own two, looking up at him and pulling him down by his collar. "Stop apologising for nothing."
And with a hair's length from his face, she finishes talking and switches from glancing down at his lips to his eyes. With a small, forgiving smile, she grabs his face and kisses him softly on the cheek, noticing how he tenses up at the intimate contact, but relaxes once more when there's no follow-up after that.
"Are you not upset, then?" She whispers between them as she moves away slightly, her hand moving a few wild strands of hair out of his face.
"I am," he admits, voice soft and low as his eyes roam over her face. "But I understand why you did it. I understand."
She gives him a small smile. "Is that why you're sorry?"
Sasuke's eyes stay still on her lips for a little longer than it should be considered normal, and when his eyes rise to meet hers and he opens his mouth to answer, there's nothing she's been so sure about ever since the start of their marriage than what comes out of her mouth then. It's an urge so strong that it overpowers her completely, makes her knees grow weak, and clouds her judgement. She doesn't know if it's because he finally seems to understand her, if it's because she feels her heart is in the process of breaking from the news of her infertility, if it's because her husband's looking at her like she's the most important thing in the world, but she wants to be one with him like she's never wanted it before.
"I need you."
I want you. I crave you. I forgive you. I love you.
I love you.
She doesn't really say it, but Sasuke hears it all the same, as though she had uttered the words right then and there.
"Make love to me."
And Kabuto's still waiting down the castle to be interrogated, and there is an imminent threat to his nation now more present than ever before, and there's no telling what will happen in the future, but he still kisses her before she has even finished saying the words.
His head still dips down and his lips still meet hers in a slow dance, a soft touch, that somehow manages to steal their breaths away. He hasn't even touched her yet, and he feels a familiar sensation between his legs already.
Against all circumstances and against the world, he still takes off all the layers of her delicate dress, watching as the candlelight flickers around her subtle curves as she stretches her hands up in the air. He throws the fabrics to the side with no hurry whatsoever, watching as she looks up at him with no sense of shame; with nothing to hide, nothing to keep from him anymore. Just her, bare and beautiful, looking at him with a small smile adorning her pretty pink lips, and he has to actively remember—and repeat in his head like a mantra—that she's asked him to make love to her, not fuck her senseless into the mattress.
He still watches as she shrugs him off his shirt, slowly ridding him of his clothes one by one, ultimately reaching his slacks and pulling them down with all the time in the world. He steps out of them, looking down at her and weaving his fingers through her long hair, and takes a sharp breath when she pulls down his underwear; only enough to let his length out its confines, grabbing him in all his fullness, hard and ready for her before they've even started.
If she has a snark comment about this, she doesn't say it out loud. From the position they're in, with him standing right in front of her and her sitting down by the edge of the bed, he already knows what she's going to do, but it still startles him when she kisses him, licks him, sucks him slowly.
And it feels so good he almost lets her finish, but they're in no rush, he reminds her, and he takes a step back when he's sure he can't take any more of that.
Against his urgent need of revenge for what they will never have, he still lifts her up and gently lays her back down in the middle of the ample bed, the orange and red light in the room making her glow on top of his dark covers. She looks so beautiful, so fragile, so his, that he wills himself with all his might to remember this picture in his head for eternity. For whatever happens, whatever may happen in their future, he wants to remember this as it is.
He dips his head down and stops right before their lips meet, their noses brushing and hearts beating in tandem, and then she gasps and holds his face in her small hands. There is surprise and wonder in her gaze, and he wonders what exactly she sees.
"Your eyes," she gasps, looking from one eye to the other with amazement. "They're red."
He frowns down at her, but she repeats it as if this is not the first time she has seen his eyes glow a vibrant red.
"Sasuke-kun, they're red!" She exclaims, scrambling out of under his body and getting up as though he will blink and she'll miss the opportunity.
She's sure of what she just saw, though. The previous three times have been a maybe, a perhaps, an am-I-going-crazy-or-did-I-see-his-eyes-really-turn-red? On top of that, it's always been in the dark, which has only made her even more suspicious.
But not now.
She's so sure she can't help but get up and run to their bathroom, grab her tiny, handheld mirror by the sink, and practically jump back on the bed and almost shove it in his face.
"Look!"
And so he does. He grabs the mirror, looks into his own eyes, and gasps at the crimson colour being reflected back. His eyes are indeed red, with a few specks of black inside them, and even when he blinks, they stay as red as the blood coursing through his veins.
In the back of his head, his mother's voice rings with a hazy, already-forgotten folklore of the Uchiha and their eyes, and although he has forgotten about the whole story, it should be just a folklore—it should be fake, and definitely not real.
He looks over the mirror at his wife's face, and she appears just as surprised and bewildered as himself.
When he sees her features change and hears her gasp again, he looks down into the mirror and finds the colour has gone away, something that confuses him even more so; why did he suddenly have eyes as red as blood? And how can the hue just come and go?
"Have you seen them like that before?" He asks her, putting the mirror down, chest heaving up and down in his stupor.
She nods, sitting back down on the bed once more after the entire commotion is over.
"Yes, I have seen them red about three times in the past. Mostly when you are angry, or when we are intimate," and this last confession she says under her breath, a soft blush colouring her cheeks. "I thought I was imagining it, but..."
"But you were not," he finishes, bringing a hand to rub at his eyes; weirdly enough, they itch in an uncomfortable way, even if only in the slightest.
He feels softer hands prying his own away from his face only seconds later, and he blinks up at her. "Do they hurt? It could be induced by whatever might be happening to your eyes. If you want, I could try to read about it—I'm sure there are books about the human eye on the fifth floor," she observes, thumbs placed on the sides of his eyes, pressing firmly and somehow releasing all the tension he had been feeling beforehand.
As his vision comes to focus on the present again, and his consciousness is not trying to remember whatever his mother had once told him about the Uchiha and their red eyes anymore, he realises she's on her knees on the bed, with her pert breasts directly in front of him, touching him with the utmost care in the world.
It's all he needs to see before he completely forgets his eyes magically turning red, and he takes her hands into his own a second later, taking them off his face.
"Thank you," he expresses, and she widens her eyes at the openness of his short statement—something normal for really anybody else to say, but not for Sasuke. She can only manage to nod before he's reclaiming her mouth, kissing her more fervently than before, more passionately than when they started. It knocks her breath out and renders her speechless, feeling a rush of something potent rushing through her veins at his insistence.
As if nothing has happened, he has her beneath him in less than a second, kissing her swollen lips, her cheeks, her neck, down, down, down until he opens her legs, and even more so, after.
She doesn't scream and she doesn't moan his name in reckless abandon, but she sighs with all the years they have spent together, the years that will come, and the present time spent with him. She whines and moves with him with all the affection she feels for him, all the love she feels bursting out of her every pore. She feels pleasure like she's never felt it before, the emotions coursing through her like bolts of lightning.
Soon, he has her tumbling over the edge of oblivion, and all she sees is white for a moment in the darkness of the room. Her feet twist, her hips buckle, and her fingers pull at his hair from where he lays between her legs.
When he lifts his head up and licks his lips with a smug smile in place, there's nothing she wants more than him, with her, bodies flushed and moving in unison on this bed.
"Inside me. Now," is all she can say, legs latching around his hips and hands pulling him down on her. She kisses him with desperation, and she has no idea what she's so desperate about, but it almost feels like this could be the end of something that's out of their hands.
As he growls and sinks into her swiftly, fucking finally, it almost feels like there is something far greater than them trying to ruin this moment. But Sakura won't let it. She holds on to her husband's back, lips still interlocked as they rock together, and tries to feel every slow thrust in the marrow of her bones.
And if tomorrow the world comes to an end, or their entire castle is ambushed, or she's forced to flee from his side as their kingdom crumbles, she does not care. Right now, even as he feels the closest he's ever felt to her, she will treasure it regardless of her fears. Even as she hears the universe whisper it to her—that this is the end, that something bad is coming, that there's no time—she will hold onto him, she will love him like she's meant to, and she will give him her all.
He gives a particularly slow, deep thrust that has her eyes rolling to the back of her head, and she comes crashing down for the second time way before he has the chance to. It's the sight of her face and the feel of her walls constricting him that makes him drive into her wildly, uncoordinated, lost in her essence.
Sasuke still spills his seed outside of her, still kisses her softly, still holds her all through the night.
Sakura cries without a single sound as soon as she feels him succumb to the clutches of sleep, one hand on her lower abdomen tracing circles with no specific person in mind; just the idea dancing in her head until she finally closes her eyes and pretends to forget it all.