Chapter 9


"Grief is like getting drunk. Everyone reacts to alcohol differently, just like everyone grieves differently. Some people just blubber and wail at the top of their lungs at the littlest trigger. Others get into fist fights because they think someone blinked at them the wrong way. Though I wonder about the people who smile and laugh while grieving..."


Masaru and Sasuke didn't go back to the compound, they couldn't with the painful memories it held. Instead the village moved them into a small, two-bedroom apartment, filled with brand new furniture, new dishware, new clothes, new everything.

When Masaru first arrived, the apartment felt empty, its blank white walls cold and unwelcoming. Sasuke had already moved in earlier that week, but he hadn't brought anything from his old house, or purchased anything new aside from what the village provided. No personal traces existed, no decorations like the paintings or carvings that adorned the walls of his own home, nothing that would tell a visitor that they lived here instead of some random stranger. It made it feel even lonelier.

He and Sasuke didn't speak much those first two days, their interactions limited as Masaru continued to rest in his room on doctor's orders. Two chairs and a small wooden folding table found their way into his bedroom, Sasuke joining him for meals and working on homework in silence. More than once they would glance up and open their mouths as if to speak, but their words would die on their lips and they would lower their heads once more.

Once Monday arrived, the boys made their way to the academy in silence, instinctively walking close together. Over three weeks had passed since Masaru had last attended class, and as the string of buildings comprising the academy came into sight he felt his chest tighten. Their new apartment lay in a different direction from the compound, the angle as they approached the academy filling him with a conflicting sense of recognition and unfamiliarity.

More and more eyes focused on them as they drew closer, his head hanging lower in response. Heavy attention had always left the naturally introverted Masaru uncomfortable, hence why he usually remained quiet. With his extended absence and newfound status as one of only two Uchiha though, it was only natural everyone would suddenly notice him. He shifted uncomfortably and stepped a little closer to Sasuke, his gaze focused on his feet as he tried to ignore all the gazes.

As such, he didn't notice the yellow blur racing at him until he found himself tackled to the ground.

Falling onto his back with a startled yelp, Masaru stared at the sky with a stunned look on his face before his eyes slid to the blond blob atop him. Cerulean eyes peered down at him, bright and shiny and looking ready to cry. "Masaru," a familiar voice croaked, "I missed you so much!" Mildly dazed and confused by the sudden assault, it took him a couple of seconds to recognize the face and voice.

Naruto.

"Uzumaki Naruto, get off him right now!"

The loud, booming voice of one of their teachers cut through the silence, prompting Naruto to startle and jump off Masaru. Before Masaru could react the teacher appeared and grabbed the small blond by the arm, scowling at him as Naruto squirmed uncomfortably. Masaru quickly sat up, darting a brief glance at a surprised-looking Sasuke before the teacher's hiss drew his attention once more. "Don't you dare touch Uchiha-san ever again!"

"B-but, Masaru—"

"Shut up!" the man hissed, and Naruto winced as his grip tightened, giving a small whimper of pain. "You have no business speaking to him so familiarly, you damn demon brat!"

His words seemed to resonate through the schoolyard, muffling all other sounds until only echoes of his voice remained. Demon brat. Demon brat. Demon brat.

"Sorry, it's just—it's just really cool to have a friend, you know?" Naruto said, smiling sheepishly as they sat at the ramen stand.

Masaru watched numbly as Naruto struggled to escape the teacher's grip, the man's face red as he yelled soundlessly while Naruto looked ready to cry. He felt a touch on his shoulder and turned to see Sasuke looking at him worriedly, his mouth moving yet making no sound. Had his hearing failed? Or was it just shock?

Demon brat. Demon brat. Demon brat.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Masaru closed his eyes and let calmness wash over him, willing the echoes to stop. Sound began filtering through his one good ear once more, and when he opened his eyes again he saw the teacher dragging Naruto away, still glaring and hollering horrific insults at the teary-eyed blond.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to launch his body at the teacher with an angry roar and topple the man to the ground. He wanted to claw and punch him until his face bled raw, his skin shredded to hamburger under his bare fists and his lips split open.

He'd lost so much: his mother, his sister, his right ear, his entire clan, his ability to sleep through the night without horrible visions of bloody pinwheels spinning and twisting into long blades against a crimson sky—

"I'm just—I'm just not used to having a friend either," Masaru said, offering a smile so feeble and small, yet full of sincerity.

He didn't want to lose his only friend.

So why couldn't he make himself move?


The days at the academy blurred. Whispers surrounded Masaru wherever he went, eyes constantly seeming to bore into his back, but he didn't care. Every time Naruto attempted to approach him, adults would chase him off, some subtly redirecting him with little errands while others openly growled at him to keep his distance from "that poor boy". The way they spoke to Naruto made Masaru want to be mad, to be disgusted and irritated at them, but he couldn't.

He felt... nothing.

At lunchtime Masaru would eat lunch with Sasuke, sitting in the training field watching the raven-haired boy spend lunch practicing with kunai and shuriken. Masaru still hadn't been cleared to resume training, but Sasuke seemed a bit more relaxed with him there. He noticed Sasuke became far cooler around others, withdrawing into himself and paying no mind to their classmates.

His previous numbness had swiftly evolved into a chilly, slow-burning resolve, throwing himself into his training and working for hours on end until his fingers blistered and bled, at which point he'd bandage them and resume the next day. They never spoke about it directly, but both knew it stemmed from Sasuke's desire to kill his brother, to avenge their clan. Killing Itachi had become his primary motivation, and he worked on it constantly.

Yet whereas Sasuke grew angry, Masaru just felt more hollow. His work ethic at school floundered, his grief consuming him. Weapon practice always reminded him of his sister's impeccable aim, sparring reminded him of those countless hours spent training at Sasuke's home under Itachi's watchful gaze. The scar on his stomach ached when they went over the various types of swords, his right ear throbbing in tune to the vibrations of his heartbeat.

'A ninja must never show their tears,' read one of the points on a test listing the Shinobi Rules which dictated their lives. The rules existed because a shinobi must be able to kill their emotions on the field lest they compromise the mission. Right now Masaru seemed to be doing a fine job at that, but he knew instinctively even that resulted from his overwhelming grief, his brain choosing to blank out emotion to keep him from shattering.

He thought about it a lot, lying awake late into the night and staring at the ceiling as sleep refused to come. Death would become more commonplace as he grew older and became a ninja, friends and allies heading onto the battlefield and risking their lives. Familiar faces would be reduced to mere names carved onto a stone, their smiles never to grace his life again as they'd fall one by one.

He'd always been aware of this, he spent most of his free time at the cemetery after all. Yet only now, after losing his sister and mother, did the full implications of it set in.

Everyone would die.

All the kids in his class would likely bleed to death on a battlefield miles away from home, their eyes glazed and glassy as color seeped away from their decaying bodies. The clan heirs might live, sheltered in Konoha and protected by their families so they could live to lead the next generations, but what guarantee did he have they'd still survive to old age? Old battle wounds might flare and cause them to fall late in life, their bodies breaking down and unable to bear the strain carried since their teenage years.

Why did he want to become a ninja? Masaru didn't know anymore. Part of him began aching to leave the academy, to set down his kunai forever and become a civilian, get as far away from this life of bloodshed and loss as possible. Just thinking of dealing death with his own hand made his chest constrict and his breath hitch painfully in his throat, but he knew it was not an option.

The crest on his shirt weighed upon his back, a constant reminder of his situation. Only two Uchiha remained in Konoha, the third a traitor who tore away the rest, and that made him far too valuable to the village. Even if the village let him quit, they'd want him to help rebuild the clan to keep the Sharingan in the village, and he couldn't stomach the thought of one day having kids knowing they might die at any moment.

His spirits continued to sink further and further, and within weeks of his return to the academy Masaru had almost completely shut down. He felt like he was wading through a thick fog, his movements slow and strained as he pushed against a heavy force weighing upon his limbs and mind. He barely paid attention in class anymore, mechanically turning pages in tandem with his classmates and filling out answer sheets.

About a month into his return he found himself alone at lunch, vaguely listening to his classmates' voices filter through the open window. Naruto had skipped school that day (not that they ate together anymore, teachers always herded Naruto out the door when the bell rang) and Sasuke had gone to train as usual, and this time he just couldn't bring himself to follow his only clan member to the training fields. Instead he sat alone at his desk in the empty classroom, the world seeming to vanish around him as he quietly picked at his food.

"Um... U-Uchiha-san?"

Empty eyes flickered upwards at the sound of a soft voice stutter, finding a small girl standing in front of his desk. Cherry blossom pink hair framed her face with a bright red ribbon tied at the top, her pale crystal-like green eyes shimmering with uncertainty as she fiddled with her thumbs. The name Haruno Sakura flashed through his mind, drawn from memories of their first day at the academy when everyone introduced themselves.

He cocked his head at her silently, staring at her with a blank look. The girl visibly gulped, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze, and bit her lip. Finally, she took a deep breath and blurted, "I-I'm sorry for your loss!"

Masaru didn't respond, just watched her silently as she dropped her torso into a bow. Plenty of people had approached him and Sasuke to offer their condolences, to the point it barely phased him anymore, so he saw no reason to reply. When he didn't speak, the girl straightened and glanced away, hands reaching up to fiddle with her hair nervously.

"I... I wanted to say, I respected Akari-san," she began, hesitating. "I... I wasn't always too serious about being a ninja, but—when I saw her after school that one day, throwing that kunai and hitting the target without even looking, a-and that stuff she said, it... it really stuck with me, you know?" She paused, taking a deep breath as she collected her thoughts. "It—it inspired me. I've been trying a lot harder, and-and, and made me want to get better."

She trailed off, her green eyes briefly flickering to Masaru before averting once more. "I... never spoke to her, but... I really, I guess, looked up to her. And... I know—I know it's no where near what you feel, but... I—I miss her too. So... I'm really sorry."

With that she dipped into another bow and quickly scurried away. Watching her retreat to the door where a blond girl waited, light began to flicker in Masaru's eyes, something twisting in his heart. His mind took him back to the training field that fateful day in the training field, his twin sister playfully drawing closer to Sasuke before turning and flinging a kunai at the target.

A lump began forming in his throat, the heavy pressure in his chest increasing. It had been a ploy to rile up the girls in their class, to provoke them to work harder after being frustrated by their vanity and shallow ambitions. Akari had performed her plan at the cost of alienating herself from her female peers, playing up the famed Uchiha pride and earning their hostility.

Yet here was a girl he'd never spoken to, who had never approached his sister, and she told him outright that Akari's plan had worked. The name Haruno Sakura flashed through his mind, drawn from memories of their first day at the academy when everyone introduced themselves. She had seemed so unforgettable save for her cherry blossom pink hair, just another one of those girls Akari would have despised for their lack of ambition.

Spots swirled behind his eyelids as he hunched over his lunch with his palms buried into his eyes, nonexistent colors flitting into his vision and overtaking the grayness that had consumed him. Someone else remembered her, someone else had actually taken note from her plan. Someone had been openly inspired by her to change.

Akari might be gone, but her influence still survived, her light still shining on at least one person.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, his lunch left relatively untouched and notes taken mechanically. When classes ended, Masaru did not go back to the apartment with Sasuke. For the first time since that awful night he returned to his home, returned to the blood soaked streets that haunted his nightmares. Traces of blood still stained the pavement and walls and phantom images of desiccated corpses flickered in his vision, but he did his best to ignore it as he headed to his house.

He took off his sandals at the door and ran through the halls until he reached the doors to his mother's study, throwing them open. Shelves upon shelves full of books greeted him, bearing books and scrolls as new as a year old and as old as the country. Eyes roving over the titles as he closed the door behind him, Masaru approached the shelves and rose on his toes to pull one off a higher shelf. A Basic Guide to Chakra Control, the cover said, and he sat at the desk to begin reading.

Dusk had long since fallen when the door opened and Sasuke peered inside, a pensive look on his face. "Masaru?" he called uncertainly, and the brown-haired boy raised his head from the book open in his lap, eyes flitting to the pile of books stacked next to him before looking back to his cousin.

"What time is it?" he asked, and Sasuke frowned, shifting uncomfortably.

"Almost midnight. You... you never came back, so I went looking, a-and..." He trailed off, his discomfort at being back in the compound so late clearly visible on his face. "What... what are you doing here?" Masaru glanced at the pile of books once more, and then back to Sasuke.

"Reading," he replied simply, and returned his attention to his book as his cousin stared dumbfounded.

When he got to school the next day, Masaru walked past his usual seat and straight to the back of the room, plopping into the empty seat next to a startled Naruto. As the teacher stared at them and began stuttering in surprise the young Uchiha just ignored him and pulled a book out of his bag, calmly reading as he waited for class to begin.

Live, the voice from his dream all those weeks ago repeated, pleading desperately for only his ears to hear.

No more sulking. I won't let any more of my precious people die.


(A/N: So at long last, the grief is over and Sakura appears! Woohoo! I've been wanting to add her to the character list for a while, but I wanted to wait for her to actually appear. The next chapter skips to the start of canon, so look forward to it!)