A/N: Hi guys! This took a bit, but I had to move, someone close to me passed away and, you know, life gets complicated. But here is chapter 20! Very heavy, very dramatic, very fluffy; I don't usually like to write big scenes like the one in this chapter, but there are many more to come as the war looms over them. ;)
I have the next three chapters mapped out, just need to develop them. Hopefully they will be out sooner than last time. (And have you guys been following the Sasuke Retsuden manga? When the third chapter came out I decided enough was enough, I had to finish and post this chapter already in the name of our lord Sasusaku. Lmao.)
Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Hope you enjoy this chapter more than the last. There are a LOT of references to canon I incorporated in this chapter.
Warnings: graphic depictions of violence.
"A man with outward courage dares to die; a man with inner courage dares to live."
- Lao Tzu.
Well into the day, and an hour after lunch, Sakura stumbles upon her husband in his study. He looks over some stacks of papers and scrolls with honest disinterest, which is how she finds the push she needs to express how she'd like to ride the forests atop Eri again.
Despite the accidental fall and the guilt he'd felt thereafter so many days ago, Sasuke ponders on it very little, and ultimately concurs. Regardless of how the last time had gone, Sakura is still on a scheduled mission, and he has to make sure she knows of riding all that time allows at this point.
Sakura had come to his office already dressed for the occasion, so they head to the stables directly and mount their horses as they are: her in a knee-length kimono with shorts under, and him in a nagagi shirt, hakama pants, and a haori over his shoulders. Today, they both dress in blue and white.
The first ten minutes are uneventful, and the pace is something she has been used to for years now; just a light, slow walk through the trees, birds chirping overhead, and butterflies dancing around them. When Sasuke starts trotting, Sakura knows he's mounting up the pace to gallop, but it doesn't necessarily inflict any fear upon her heart.
Instead, she dutifully trots alongside him, then starts galloping by his side not long after. The rush that comes to her is familiar even if she has only momentarily felt it once before. Still, her heartbeat quickens, a carefree laugh escapes her lips, and the forest blurs into a series of green and brown shades all around her. Eri is strong and fast under her, and with her husband riding next to her, she feels safe.
For a moment, she turns to look at Sasuke a few steps behind her—his gaze locks onto her own, a wild, dangerous look over his so often preoccupied features—but the look is fleeting. This time, she makes sure to pay attention to the forest in front of her.
The world and its problems seem irrelevant like this, riding faster than the wind itself. The country on the brink of a resurgent civil war, the very council possibly plotting against her husband, the plot Kabuto devised against her fertility, her mother expecting her soon now that the next full moon is approaching... Nothing but her and Eri matter at the moment.
Eventually, after a few rounds in the forest, they both decrease their speeds and meet side by side once more. Sakura smiles at her husband, triumphal, and he gives her a sure nod in acknowledgement; he's proud of her feat.
"It's all about practice," he says, turning his horse in the direction of the castle and watching as she effortlessly does the same. "How did it feel this time?"
"Thrilling," she answers, her eyes two green pools of wonder and awe. "Fucking exhilarating."
If he finds her lack of proper language a problem, he doesn't say so. Instead, she hears a faint chuckle as he shakes his head. The sound is a breath of fresh air.
"No wonder you're addicted to it," she comments, keeping up with his pace and riding parallel to him.
Sasuke gives her a look that she returns, amusement dancing like firelight in his eyes. "Addicted is a strong word."
She snorts, then says, "it's a fitting word."
"How so?" She hears him ask.
For the first time in months, several memories flash across the field of flowers that spreads before them, one after the other in succession, each one as vivid as the last. Images of her first two years married to him come to life before her eyes, when she was cast aside while he spent his days in meetings and missions to other villages; and when he would be home, he would be in the forest training or riding his horses—especially riding his horses.
She glances at him and notices he mimics her movement. There is a sense of peace about him right now, of soft repose, a stillness in the air around them. Looking at him like this, she decides she doesn't want to bring up their rather rocky past, and quickly changes the topic.
"What next on my training schedule? It is getting dark soon..." She ponders, looking up at the darkening sky. The sun will soon hide under the horizon, and to think they have been out here since a little after lunch.
"You train tomorrow, then."
Sakura spares him a surprised glance. "There is no time to waste, Sasuke-kun. I might be allowed enough time to get ready on my own terms but, should I be forced to start my mission sooner-"
"Why should you be forced?"
"Well," she starts, focusing her gaze back to the castle they are slowly approaching. "Say, if the pressure at your back surmounts to levels we are unable to defend ourselves from, or if the attacks and raids increase rapidly across the nation... Would that not force me to start my mission sooner?"
Sasuke is quiet at that; pensive. He looks calm on the outside, just like any man who has ridden on his horse for a long enough time; tired but at peace. It's the small subtle details with him, like how his hands hold the reins a little tighter than necessary or how his jaw locks in worry.
"You will start your mission when you are ready."
As predicted, his stubbornness precedes him. She stammers to an abrupt halt and holds her horse still, watching as he stops only two steps ahead, but doesn't face her. "I refuse to wait for any plan against you to come to fruition. As soon as the raids increase, or the threats turn bolder, I must help however I can. I cannot just idly wait-"
He turns the horse toward her and faces her with an icy glare, his eyes fierce upon her.
"And I refuse to have you needlessly killed. Your mission will start when you are ready," he reiterates. Something in her expression makes his demeanor falter, however, as he sighs and loosens his hold on the reins, bringing his horse closer to her. "These affairs, any political overthrows, always start the same way; with talks, small threats, scattered clues. And they always take time," he speaks in a low voice, carefully, gently this time. "If anything drastic should happen before your mission—and chances are low—Shikamaru will take you to safety."
Many emotions course through her at the revelation of their fate. If she's to follow through with her mission and successfully incriminate the Elders, then they'll have a good chance to mitigate or at least control any problems against the Shogunate. But, should she take longer to train than the date of any direct attack, Shikamaru will make sure she's safe, and she will leave Sasuke to deal with it on his own. She doesn't think so. But she doesn't comment on that right now.
"That is not the point, Sasuke-kun. I simply don't wish to see you face any of it when I can stop it from happening altogether."
Sasuke extends his hand toward her, then, and she takes it. He squeezes with a promise. "Nothing will happen that I can't handle."
Sakura wants to protest, but he lets go of her hand and gives her a crooked smile. "Now, let's call for a hot bath."
He starts riding again, but not before he runs his eyes down her body once. The suggestive gesture alone is almost enough to make her forget the many wrong ideas he has in his head, starting with the fact that she will not get to fight alongside him in battle. Almost, but not quite.
What does push that conversation to the back of head for the moment comes from the castle's main hall a few minutes later.
They dismount the horses and put them away at the stables. Sakura thanks the help of a young servant as he takes the reins of Eri to start brushing her coat, and she joins Sasuke outside.
As soon as they enter the castle, Sakura's greeted with three people expecting them in the main hall: a guard, a man with long brown hair and ice cold grey eyes, and Ino.
Ino.
When their eyes meet, her childhood friend gives her a small smile, knowing that Sasuke may notice any larger gesture. Sakura is still struggling to comprehend what exactly is going on when the guard rushes up to them and bows to Sasuke before rising again.
"My lord, I informed them not to come so late in the day, but they insist you've invited them. These are the representatives of the Hyūga and Yamanaka clans."
"Ah," her husband nods at the guard in understanding and focuses his gaze on the guests. There are a few seconds where he simply surmises the scene, clearly thinking of their conversation just a few minutes prior, of his insistence to have her train tomorrow and her insistence to train as much as possible. Her husband is a stubborn man, however, and while she's sure he meant his words back then, he still pauses and considers his options. And, eventually and against any of her expectations, he turns his head slightly toward her, and does what he has never before: he concedes.
"You will start your mission when you are ready. But you should train now," he says. "There is no time to waste, right?"
All she can do is nod for a second at the unmistakable play on her own words, recognizing the subtle nod to her wants, even if he still manages to remain stubborn about other things. She clears her throat to hide her smile and looks at him.
"Shall you introduce me now?"Her husband shakes his head, and addresses the guard at his side. "Have one of the maids bring them tea. They wait here until we return."
"My lord," the guard bows, then starts walking in the direction of the two clan members.
Sasuke turns to her. "We bathe, then talk."
Sakura can't imagine how someone who says so few words in every broken sentence can manage to control an entire nation and all of its many clan heads and lords, but he does it and he somehow does it perfectly. She follows him to the room still trying to decipher it all.
.
.
.
When they head back downstairs, it's with trepidation and excitement coursing through her veins. She's so anxious to have some alone time with her closest friend that she almost but rushes down the stairs. Thankfully, she doesn't think Sasuke can detect her state of excitement; and if he does, he probably thinks it's simply from the new teachers she is about to meet.
With a new change of clothes and her skin still dewy from the rejuvenating bath, she feels ready to tackle anything. Of course, she wants to talk to her friend about life outside as well as inside the castle, but she also has half a mind that Ino has come here to teach her a valuable skill that will serve its purpose on the field.
She's always known the blonde to be the sole heir of the Yamanaka clan, but for her to be sent all the way to help the Shogun's wife as a clan representative? Sometime in all the years she hasn't seen her, she must have left the flower shop's care to her mother, and taken the ropes of her father's trade instead. To be trusted to face such a high figurehead is no easy feat.
Sakura and Sasuke reach the bottom of the stairs and approach the couple sitting by the entrance. As soon as they take notice of her husband's proximity, they stand and give a brief, curt bow.
"Welcome. I am pleased to see you have made it here within the agreed timeframe. This is my wife, Uchiha Sakura."
Sakura smiles and offers them a short, modest nod, thankful that so many people from several clans and backgrounds are willing to show her different skillsets for her mission.
The brunette man with eyes of ice regards her with a seriousness much like her husband's, but whereas the icy glares she used to receive from Sasuke were laced with distrust and anger, this man's eyes only reflect herself back at her—the look is entirely neutral; empty. "Lady Uchiha, I am Neji of the Hyūga clan, here to teach you stealth tactics."
Ino follows after. "Ino of the Yamanaka clan. Interrogation tactics."
Sakura feels a delighted smile stretch her lips wide as Sasuke waits for her to decide what she'd like to start with today—not much of a choice, really.
.
.
.
Her husband instructs her to go into one of his study rooms located on the second floor, then stays behind to talk to Neji while she and Ino head upstairs.
As soon as she closes the door of one of his studies behind her, she feels the tight embrace of her friend, one she returns in earnest. It has been a little over four years since she's seen her last, or even communicated with her. In light of the many recent turn of events, a familiar, trusting face is just the thing she needs right now.
"I thought I would never see your big, ugly forehead again," she hears the blonde whisper into her hair, the crushing hug stealing more air than she would think possible. Sakura laughs and ends the hug, too happy to care about her friend's insult. When they were little, 'forehead' would be all Ino would call her, mocking her just as she would mock back in retort.
"I missed you too, pig."
The nicknames would bother them both back then, but now they sound more affectionate than anything else. It all seems so far away, so distant...
Nostalgic as it feels, the name still makes a vein pop in the blonde's forehead.
.
.
.
The next day goes by in a flash, and the next has her the most tired out of any other training session. She trains with Kakashi in the morning, next with Neji, and after lunch she trains with Ino, while the evenings are spent with Sasuke, either riding their horses or quietly reading in the same room. On the third day, however, she meets with someone named Lee—one of the captains of her husband's army—after her session with Ino.
Lee has her running for three hours straight up and down the hills of the forest, with breaks (or what he calls breaks) only large enough to accommodate fifty push-ups and sit-ups, and she's reduced into something close to slime by the time he deems it enough for only the first day. In spite of his encouraging, positive attitude and total admiration for her, he is definitely not a forgiving man. After the sun has long gone down, she finally hears him end this training session for today.
When she looks to the side and finds Sasuke, arms crossed and scowl beautifully painted over his face, she knows this is not something Lee has decided, but something her husband has commanded of the captain to finally do.
She notices them exchange words on the side as she grabs her towel and starts patting her neck, chest, and face. Normally, she would wait until she's got a bath to get rid of the sweat and grime, but she has been pushed above and beyond her limits today and she needs to cool herself down.
When Lee is gone, Sasuke The Merciful approaches her with a canteen full of water. She gladly accepts it and starts drinking like a woman possessed.
"Tough day?"She takes a few more gulps, then hands him the canteen back.
"What did you tell him?"
When all Sasuke does is quizzically look at her, she straightens up and crosses her arms in front of her chest, staring up at him with a frown. "Sasuke-kun."
"I told him you may continue tomorrow; it is getting dark," he gives in, and sighs as he starts picking up her equipment from the grass.
"Really," she deadpans, placing her hands on her hips. Sasuke notices this, then something flashes in his eyes; amusement, perhaps.
"Really."
"So it was not due to my inability to keep training?"
Now they are walking back to the castle, his hand on the small of her back—sweaty back, at that. She thinks she hears him snort.
"No, it was not."
Sakura points a finger at him as they walk, "because I could have kept going, you know."
"Definitely," he says. And as they step inside the castle and he passes by her to let a maid know she needs a bath drawn, she thinks that maybe, perhaps, she sees the lingering trace of a smile on his lips, so soft but so noticeable. Her heart skips a beat at that—at the carefree, light, happy look he's been carrying for days now—and so as soon as they cross the threshold of their bedroom, she pulls him in for a quick, searing kiss.
When she moves away, he regards her with the same smile on his lips, but this time it is for her and at her only, a tender look crossing his features before he kisses the top of her head and brings her in for an embrace.
It's the first time she sees him smile so freely and, sadly, it is also one of the last she gets to see in a very long time.
.
.
.
That night, Sasuke has a nightmare, but this time it is worse than the last. Sasuke doesn't thrash, scream, or do so much as make a sound. It's as if the dream has him completely paralysed, and when he manages to sit up in a cold sweat, panting and looking around him in a frantic manner, that's the moment he finally wakes her up.
She opens her eyes and is greeted by the silhouette of her husband hunched over, his head in his hands and his fingers constantly raking back and forth over his hair. His breathing is laboured, and when she sits up and touches his back, she feels him shaking.
"Sasuke-kun?"
She's met with no answer, and she starts drawing circles on his back with the palm of her hand.
Usually, if he has a nightmare, Sakura can quickly find a way to comfort him. He will wake up and hold her, then fall asleep again. On some occasions, he even speaks to her in hushed tones about this or that inconsequential thing. But to have him silent, ignoring her presence, and holding his head as if in pain is much more disconcerting. She doesn't really know what to do with that.
"Hey, Sasuke-kun," she whispers, now kneeling in front of him, trying to pry his hands away from his face. "Sasuke-kun, what's wrong? Let me help you, please."
He doesn't fight against her delicate touch, allowing her to take his hands in her own softer ones, but he still grimaces in pain, still looks down.
"Did you...did you have a nightmare? Is it something else? You can tell me, I'm here," Sakura says, kissing his knuckles, making him release the tension he has in his fists. She weaves her hands in his sweat-drenched hair, pushing it back and away from his face. There is a moment of silence where it seems that Sasuke has calmed down enough to speak, yet he remains as is.
Eventually, he looks at her with half-lidded eyes, pursed lips, a locked jaw. Sakura notices his bright crimson eyes, but she doesn't comment on them.
Instead, she makes a move toward the bathroom for a rag and some cold water, but Sasuke's voice stops her from so much as turning away.
"I saw our son. I saw him," he swallows, the words rough and harsh. She stares at him dumbfounded. "At... He laid at the feet of Kabuto." Dead. But he doesn't find the strength to say that. He's sure she can catch on to the meaning behind his words.
He had seen their young son dead at Kabuto's feet, and their daughter a motionless, still-born in Kabuto's hands. He had seen the Council standing to the side, unnervingly observing. He had heard the entire village laugh at his pain.
Something dark crosses his wasted features, something she has only glimpsed at before. But now it is so clear, so present, the way his eyes turn back to the familiar black, turn somber, turn angry, turn dangerous.
A chill runs down her spine at the same time he throws the covers off his body and stands, quickly finding a pair of pants and an ordinary shirt by a chair. He dresses hastily, but it is with that same underlying anger she saw a second ago.
She follows his movements from the bed, a certain amount of worry creeping up her veins at the heavy atmosphere in the room. It only escalates further when he simply walks out of the room without even so much as sparing her a glance or saying a word. Somewhere deep inside, she knows exactly where he's headed. She knows exactly what he is about to do.
With now an equal sense of urgency, Sakura leaves the comfort of the bed and puts on a robe over her nightgown, practically running out of the room and hoping she can catch up to him. Thankfully, Sasuke is rounding the hallway and coming down the stairs when she reaches him, a hand firm on his upper arm. "Sasuke-kun, where are you go-"
The question dies in her throat as he turns to regard her, a deranged, frenzied look on his face. He looks like the only need he has right now is for raw, uninhibited violence.
"You are with the Yamanaka in interrogation, right? Then, this may serve as an added training experience for you. First-hand, in fact."
She has no time to react, for he then grabs her hand, turns, and keeps walking, turning down a hallway, and going down a set of wooden, spiral stairs. She has never seen them before in the castle, with it's steep, spiral descend and narrowing walls. The entrance lies behind a door on the ground floor, hidden behind a set of columns, the walls lined with lit torches, and it's all the light she has to keep her from falling; at the pace he's holding, she's surprised she hasn't tripped over her feet already.
After a while, and when the rugged, narrow descend seems to be endless, it eventually does come to an end. The bottom of the staircase opens to a room made of the same wooden material, with about three cells lined up one after the other in a vacant hallway.
As soon as she steps into the underground room, she instantly gets the stench of old, muddy waters under her nose, the blonde hair of her arms standing up in alarm. Sakura only manages to stand behind her husband because he still has a firm hold of her small hand; were it not for the reassuring touch, she would have turned and sprinted up the stairs. The air smells so wrong she feels bile rise up the back of her throat. Of rotting flesh and old, abandoned food. It makes her wonder: how many prisoners have been brought here, remained, and possibly passed right here in these cells?
Almost as if something has possessed his body and soul, her husband ignores the stench and keeps striding over to the very end of the hall, to the last cell in the room. He does not relinquish the hold he has on her hand, so when they do get to the cell in question, she's forced to watch upon the source of her pain.
In the far end of the small space, Kabuto sits against the wall in slumber, his head hanging forward and his arms stretched over his head, chained at the wall by his wrists with thick, long ropes. He wears his customary clothes, seems well-rested, and breathes with no difficulties. She spares a glance at Sasuke, knowing the positive state of Kabuto can only anger him even more. Indeed, he looks absolutely fuming with unbridled anger.
"Sasuke-kun," she whispers, keeping her voice as low as possible. "Are you sure this has to be done now? Let us head back, we can come back in the morning once we are both well rested and of sound minds."
When she tries to drag him away, Sasuke severs their connection and flashes her a warning look. "If you wish to leave, you are free to do so. But do not stop me, Sakura."
The way he speaks her name silences her at once.
"Do you feel no ire? Remember what he has done to you," he whispers, baring his teeth in contempt at the man in question.
Sakura hugs herself, her bare feet touching the cold, chipped wood of the floor. "I remember perfectly well."
"Then, you will not interfere. Be glad he gets what he deserves."
And, with that, Sasuke unlocks the door to the cell and steps inside, not bothering to look behind him to see if she has followed.
It seems that the noise of Sasuke's shoes over the floor has alerted the prisoner, for he blinks his eyes open and hazily raises his head, locking his eyes with Sasuke's. Nothing he could do would make Sasuke change his mind, turn around, and walk away from the situation. But meeting his eyes without any shame, then chuckling to himself in amusement, is definitely not making anything better.
"Took you long enough, my Lord. I was beginning to wonder if you even cared about my crimes."
When Sasuke doesn't follow up afterward, Sakura starts to expect the worse. She still wisely stands outside of the cell, but now takes a single step forward to remind Sasuke that they are not alone in this room and, no, it would not be wise to pummel his face into the floor and end his life right then and there—she still wants some answers, after all.
"You already admit you are guilty for your actions."
Kabuto boldly holds eye contact, his chin help up high. Defiance is what he wishes to show them, but misery is all she sees.
"I confess to nothing more than what you already know. I know not what you suspect and, as such, have no more answers for you."
What happens next makes her visibly flinch. Sasuke stands in front of him in two strides, then kicks his stomach so hard and fast that Sakura almost misses it, but she knows it happens. Her eyes followed the movement of her husband's leg; her mind is the one reeling to catch up to the events.
"So violent already..." Kabuto spits out, then fixes Sasuke with a coy smirk. "I said I had no more answers for you. Now, if the questions were made by my dear Lady Uchiha..."
That earns him another kick, one hard enough to knock the breath out of him and have him heave for a few seconds, coughing up his discomfort for a few more.
"No more games, Yakuza."
When Kabuto raises his head to give Sasuke a bloody smile full of mirth, Sasuke kicks him again, then grabs his face with one hand and lifts it, waiting for Kabuto to focus his eyes on his own once more. As predicted, the grey-haired man fixes his eyes on Sasuke's again, and the moment that it happens, he punches the older man twice, Kabuto's glasses breaking and falling on the first swing. Sakura takes one step forward and speaks clearly, hopeful that her voice cuts through the air enough for the men to stop their small dance of dominance—she needs answers.
"Did you infuse my tea with pennyroyal?" Her eyes never stray from Kabuto, but she feels her husband's wild gaze upon her not a second later, his hand now clutching the collar of Kabuto's torn down shirt in a tight grip.
Kabuto takes two breaths to answer but, though he does address her, he does not lift his head to regard her fully. "Yes."
This Sakura already knows. But finding that he is at least responsive to her, she takes another step closer, now inside the cell. "Was this with the intent to make me barren?"
His blood is dripping from his lips to the floor below him, and he silently observes as the liquid pours out. Before he answers, he licks the corners of his lips clean.
"Yes."
She also knows this, though hearing it from the man who dedicated so much of his time to teach her the ways of medicine still stings. Even after all this time, it pains her to know one of the only two men she has trusted in years betrayed her so deeply. Not only betrayed her and hurt her emotionally, but willingly harmed her physically as well.
"Why?" She breaths, hugging herself tightly. She utters the word that has haunted her for days, for weeks. Why would he do this to her? Why would he become so close to her, if all he had to do was tell a maid inside the castle to administer the tea in his stead? He did not have to get close to her, he did not have to teach her his ways, nor share so many mornings, evenings. He could have been completely anonymous, and yet he chose to befriend her and keep her close on a daily basis. Why?
Kabuto looks at her, then, from behind his fallen, grey bangs.
"It was never personal, little blossom," he says, then chokes on his own spit when Sasuke punches him again. Kabuto spits out blood, then chuckles to himself.
Sakura meets her husband's bloodshot eyes, urging him to let the man speak. She focuses her attention on the healer. "Then, on whose orders did you do it?" She prods.
Kabuto smiles at her, his head banging against the wall when he leans on it. He closes his eyes, then shakes his head. "I am afraid that's as far as my answers go."
Sasuke pulls on the man's hair enough to earn him a pained hiss, his tone threatening when he barks: "Answer her. Who are you working with?"
The medic doesn't answer, and it's as if the silence urges Sasuke to hurt him even more. She notices how he squares his shoulders before he connects his fist with the man's eye, cheek, lip, chin. Sasuke snaps and breaks like a hurricane in the midst of a sunny, Spring afternoon. It takes her completely off-guard, how one moment she is trying to get the answers she wants in a civil manner, and the next he is breaking the prisoner's face in such a gruesome, aggressive way.
Her husband is not like this. Her husband is strong, but graceful. He is the wind moving through the trees in the forest; he is the water moving softly down a riverbed, the current slow but cutting. He is deadly, a warrior, but kind. Most of all, kind. Nervous the first time she showed him love on top of his body, teary-eyed when he told her she had been wronged by one of her trusted contacts, and worried for her wellbeing when the news of her infertility reached his ears.
The man a few steps in front of her, with blood smeared on his shirt and fists, beating a defenseless man into ashes, is not the man she knows; he's not the man she loves.
Sakura runs to him before she has a chance to comprehend what her body is doing. With a scream for him to stop, her arms envelop her husband from behind, her nails digging themselves on his heaving chest and her gaze on the back of his head. Sasuke looks back at her and holds her gaze with his own red, fiery eyes, and where there is emptiness, she starts to see some reason within. Slowly, she feels his hands go back to his sides, his breathing less labored. Slowly, her husband takes one step back, and turns to face her.
Sakura gasps at the blood running down his eyes, still red and burning. She's about to comment on it when Sasuke stumbles. He leans on her for a second, but moves away from both people in the cell after nausea makes him reconsider standing so close to his wife. He scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand in a corner of the cell, trying to make the uncomfortable ache go away. Opening his eyes, another burst of pain makes him hiss and bite his tongue, closing his bleeding eyes once more. It's like pins and needles inside his eyes, and through the pain, he thinks he hears a woman yelp and gasp, the noise in the room making him think she is struggling with someone.
It doesn't register in his brain that his wife is in danger until a second later, but by then, when he opens his eyes, he only sees distorted shapes and shadows. It's hard enough to open his eyes. Focusing his vision on the image before him is proving to be almost impossible. He must rely on his hearing, but the ringing in his ears is obstructing most sounds from reaching him too. He grunts, frustrated at the turn of events, unable to discern what is happening across the cell.
Squinting, he blinks the image into some semblance of clarity; enough to enable him to see exactly what is going on, at least for two seconds before his vision clouds up again: Kabuto, partially standing and pulling Sakura flat against his body from behind, with one hand holding her hands in between them, and the other reaching across her chest and squeezing around her neck. Sasuke's immediate reaction is to get closer.
"One more step, and I break her neck."
The threat clears the fog in his head enough for him to register the words. Sasuke stops. "Kabuto, let her-"
"First, I need your lovely wife to free me of these," he says, then makes noise with the chains above him. The ropes are long above him, and they are encrusted into the wall with chains of steel.
Sakura is barely getting any oxygen, just enough to stay alive and conscious. But she still sees Sasuke and he looks downright maniacal. He is hunched over in pain, one hand over one of his eyes, while streaks of blood run down his cheeks; mixed with the blood on his shirt and pants, he appears straight out of a war. It scares her, more than what could happen to her in the next few minutes. She does not want him to be like this, in pain, stressed, frustrated, vulnerable. It brings tears to her eyes.
"And then," Kabuto continues, voice level and unbothered, as if half his face is not unrecognizable by all the hits he received from her husband earlier. "I will walk out of this room, unbound. And you will not stop me."
Sakura struggles against him. "If you think-"
Sasuke hears her choke, clearly from Kabuto trying to silence her by applying more force around her neck. The same neck Sasuke has kissed before, caressed under the sheets. He feels rage course through his veins, but the moment his anger reaches a certain point, his eyes make him tumble down in pain. He holds himself up on the floor, another wave of nausea passing through him. In the far distance, he hears voices.
"Now, now, Lady Sakura, I would not do that if I were you..."
"Stop this at once, Yakuza! She will free you, now release her," Sasuke says from the floor, finally finding that the nausea is going away, and his vision is slowly returning to him. He lifts his head with some effort, and watches the outlines of Kabuto and Sakura as he frees one of her hands so that she may untie the knots of his ropes.
Kabuto allows her to turn in place, though he still keeps one of her hands in a tight hold. He holds her close with one arm, his other hand no longer around her bruised neck. That particular arm hangs in place as she works to free it from its tight bounds.
Once his left hand is free, he holds one of her hands with it, and the other now hangs so that she can work to untie it as well. Sakura looks at him as she unties the remaining hand, her green eyes glossy and full of hatred.
She pretends she works on his bound hand for a few seconds, then makes up her mind. She doesn't know how this night will end, but it won't be with Kabuto leaving this room a free man, ready to report to his superior that Uchiha Sasuke suffers from vision problems and is in a weakened state. She will not allow it; she would rather die than watch her husband be taken advantage of, especially in this state. With a breath that struggles its way out of her beaten neck, she steels her mind. It's now or never.
With a single swing, she punches Kabuto with more strength than she expected was possible from her. Kabuto stumbles back onto the wall, his head connecting with it. From the side of his forehead, a trail of blood starts dripping down. The force of her blow makes her hesitate, but she quickly composes herself and pushes away from him, turning to run away.
The image of Sasuke holding himself up on the floor, almost crumbling over in pain, is the last thing she sees before she feels something grab her long hair and pull her backward, her body colliding with the wall and sliding down in the blink of an eye. She screams at the pull, but after impact, everything goes black.
When she comes to, she imagines not much time has passed, because when she opens her eyes and looks beyond her location, she finds Kabuto on his knees and Sasuke behind him, one leg on his back and his hands holding Kabuto's arms backward. As he steps and pulls on the arms, Kabuto screams in agony. But Sasuke doesn't stop, he keeps pressing until he hears a loud crack and snap.
Kabuto's arms are broken beyond repair.
Sasuke lets go and watches as the man below falls to the floor in a heap of misery, the same arms that had touched his wife now useless. It's not enough to break his arms, however. He grabs hold of the dagger tucked in the lining of his pants, unsheathing it from its case. He steps on Kabuto's hand, and Sakura watches horrified as he holds the dagger against his wrist.
"Sasuke-kun! Please, that is enough," she pleads, her voice small and rough, but desperate enough for Sasuke to hear her. He turns his head toward her, but doesn't look. She thinks that if he looks at her, he would cut more than just Kabuto's hand.
Kabuto seems to realize what is about to happen to him, for he screams in fear and starts wildly kicking his feet in every direction. He can't move too much, though, for Sasuke has his foot still on top of the same hand Kabuto had used to strangle her, and if he moves too much, his broken arm will start burning in pain again. Still, he thrashes as much as he can against the idea.
"Traitors do not deserve to live in my country, those who betray their comrades are nothing worse than scum; but for any who dare harm you...death would simply not suffice."
Sasuke severs Kabuto's hand at the wrist in one clean swipe.
She doesn't avert her eyes from the sight, but the stench of blood is so strong that her eyes inadvertently start watering. Subconsciously, she notices a warm trail of blood from under her head, and in a macabre sort of way, she wonders whether it is hers, Kabuto's, or Sasuke's. By the way her head starts spinning when she tries to lift herself off from the floor, she guesses it is her blood. With a sigh, she resigns herself to rest her head back on the pool of blood under her, and watches as Sasuke stands before a wailing, sobbing Kabuto. There is nothing she can do to stop him now.
She observes as her husband grabs Kabuto's other hand, stepping on it exactly as he had done to the other one.
She grimaces, but otherwise cannot move from her spot. Slowly, the world spins further and further, and right before she loses sense of where she is anymore, she hears a loud bang from somewhere in the distance. A wild, familiar wisp of blond hair comes into her burning sight, the sky-blue eyes she has come to love trying to look into her own for a sign of stability. She blinks one more time to let him know she is fine, lest he is not an actual illusion from her losing grip on reality, then closes her eyes, succumbing, at last, to the dark.