Chapter Thirty-Four: A Punishment Gone Awry
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Try as he may to control his heart, it ran along with erratic thumps. Konoha's gates loomed into view: tall and thick pillars exuded the smell of chakra-infused wood he was so accustomed to by now. That damned Yamato and his knock-off Mokuton tricks. He could not say he ever liked him. He took two more steps and came under a weak strip of shadow, cast by the pillar as it caught the morning light.
He stopped and raised his head towards the light. It was soft, weak. Autumn sun never could burn on one's skin; but when storm that burgeoned forth an impatience in Autumn's breast, it thumped with thunder, tripped with lightning. In storm's absence, it was a warm morning; yet he felt cool sweat oozing freely from his pores. Sweat drops quivered and tickled on his skin, and he gulped down the pebble-sized lump in his throat; he was passing through this damned gate to his judgment . . .
He felt a heavy slap on his back and Kai's face suddenly occupied his vision. "Come along, Sasuke. Itachi-Sama's asked us to bring our reports in. Yours is required, as well, and we're already half an hour late. Hurry up," he said and slapped his back again.
"I heard you," Sasuke said, and dread and gloom's efflorescence assailed his mind. He wanted to be anywhere but here, but there was no use hiding. How long would he escape his brother? As if the thought made him accept this defeat, his black eyes dimmed, and his face turned sad.
He felt like a child—afraid of being caught and punished for his games. He had disobeyed his brother, and now, the time had come to brave up to him and suffer through whatever he had in store for him. He knew this day would come the moment he touched that Anbu Seal. His fingers brushed the wooden part, and fears had made shiver his bones. He was defiant, a wayward young man his brother thought to be no more than a child.
Sasuke's feet moved, and each step weighed heavily upon his mind. He walked through the gates. His Sharingan, feeling the anxiety in him, resurfaced as if trying to shield his body and mind from any assaults that awaited him; it whirled with determination in his eyes; and with keener visions, he saw dust collected in the leaf symbol, cut into two as the heavy gate lay open in front.
Few ninjas stood by the gate—cowed fools that guarded these walls. How he detested the lot of them now—Men who pecked at the remains of his father and mother to gain new crowns. The chakra-shield fell over him as he crossed the boundary of invisible chakra, which his Sharingan saw as clearly as Leaf men, his body awash in tingles that darted down his spine's length: it was an old defence mechanism. Even a common Sensor could sniff it out. The decrepit fools that controlled Leaf's policies had grown senile. Most bypassed this scentless veil through the underground caves; sadly, they never survived the panoply of chakras, a deathly blent, and a web of cave tunnels that ran under Leaf's soil. They said that, long ago in the past, this place had volcanic activity. He did not know how true this claim was; some of the tunnels, which had the touch of Doton users' less-than-delicate hands, were too perfect . . .
Sakura stood with Neji a couple of feet from the guards, watching him. Their eyes met for the smallest moment, and he read her completely. Desperation . . . he saw it dancing in vulgar motions in their hues. They never relinquished—a Spring that never faded. Sakura flowers may have wilted, but her wild wishes knew no ends. It was an obsession for her; it was bereft of logic.
When would she learn her lesson? His harsh words that night had not taught her to let things go. He had the urge to mock her for her foolishness to pursue him, but it was hardly the time to think of such things. He had worse things on his mind, grave things, and he did not want to crowd his thoughts. Not now!
He paused in his steps when he saw Neji make his way to him. He looked a bit worried. He stopped and gave a bow. "I hope your work went well. Itachi-Sama, he," he paused and coughed, his brow sweating, "he's asked for reports on Suigetsu, Jūgo, and Karin, as well. You sent them all on holidays and altered their duty roster. I don't think Itachi-Sama knows." He looked at Sasuke, his eyes unusually dim. He seemed deeply concerned of Sasuke's decisions to over-ride the Anbu Commander's duty roster.
Sasuke shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away to the sky, his face creating an artificial look of indifference. It was an act. Of course Itachi knew of his meddling—he knew how to nail him to the wall. He was going to use this to break him, and that punishment would not be far behind. "Let me worry about that. You can finalise the rest of them. Meet me in the office in thirty minutes," he said and looked in the direction of the melodic sound that came to him from behind the trees.
He blinked and saw a white orb whoosh to him. In the next moment, Kirin landed on his shoulder. It screeched loudly to tell him of something and everything. He titled his head back and let out a soft laugh and felt it press its tiny feathery body against the crook of his neck. It suddenly fell silent and made the softest sounds that filled his right ear. "You missed me?" he asked and grabbed hold of its tiny body.
Its small eyes stared at him from over his fist. Sasuke bent his head down and brushed his nose against its breast. It made another melodious sound in response. "I brought you treats all the way from Mist. You like pink fish, don't you? I got these for you," he said and unzipped his jacket to put Kirin in the pocket on the inside. Then he fumbled inside his pants' pocket and took out a pouch. Kirin screeched loudly when it saw a tiny piece of dried-up meat held between his fingers.
Sasuke did not say anything more to Neji. He started walking to his office. He had a boy-ish, innocent smile on his face whilst he fed Kirin. He felt Sakura's eyes follow him, but he did not turn to say a word to her. He needed the missions' reports from her, but she had gone on a mission with his brother. Let her be Itachi's headache!
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"Woof woof . . . " Kiba paused, chuckling with that big grin on his husky face, ". . . woof woof, and then he pissed straight into his eyes. His aim has greatly improved, Itachi-Sama."
The way Itachi looked back at him was quite amusing: his stone-cold sober face was devoid of even a touch of smile, his eyes two stones that could wither a man in one glance. The monstrous effort it took to suppress the laughter—Sasuke was surprised he kept it lodged deep in his throat. He merely bit down on his lower lip and bent his head, a smidgen of a smile stretching his lips.
Itachi stayed silent, his eyes taming Kiba's laugh. He turned it into a hacking cough, and then he suddenly fell silent, a sheepish grin about his lips. That happy smile slid off his face, and he wore a very stupid expression now, his face erupting in sweat. He licked his mouth in a very dog-like manner. Itachi merely looked down to the scroll; he seemed mildly disgusted by the enthusiasm, with which he had told his pup's story.
"Let me put this into perspective," he spoke and put the scroll aside, "your dog urinated on one of the guards of an emissary during training? In a public area? Inuzuka Clan is known for such bold and uncouth behaviour?" He feigned surprise, mocking him.
"Itachi-Sama, Akamaru didn't—"
Itachi raised a silencing hand and Sai fell silent. Kiba's grin came and went. He was embarrassed. Neji stood next to Sasuke; both of them had their heads bent. Shikamaru had a lit cigarette that hung from his mouth. A trail of smoke went up into the air from its tip. When he saw Itachi's eyes on him, he swallowed it whole. The bored expression disappeared from his face for a moment; and then it returned after a slow deliberation from him. His face could not function without it.
Chōji stood behind him, his legs shaking. Itachi scared the life out of him. His stomach was bloated today. He ate too many chips out of anxiety in the morning. The prospect of handing Itachi the weekly report always did that to him. He could not say that standing behind Shikamaru hid him well. Ino stood next to Sai, her eyes moving between Kiba and her Captain. Like Chōji, she was an assistant Jōnin.
"Akamaru's still a pup, Itachi-Sama. He made a mistake," Kiba said in a throaty, fire-crackling voice. His face burnt with shame.
"You let him loose in a public place and the animal is at fault? Common sense envies the fool," he spoke and rose to his feet and looked over to Sai. "You are his Captain. Is this the manner in which you want to proceed on with your captaincy, letting your Team do as they please like the animals they keep? What a fun, motley group." The young Captain's head was bowed.
"I apologise, Itachi-Sama. Kiba is training Akamaru well. It probably acted out as it was locked up for two days after the injury. None of us expected it. I'll write a letter of apology. It won't happen again. You have my word," he said and put his hand to his breast. He appeared sincere in his apology. His pasty face was tinged red at the cheeks with embarrassment.
"There will be no next time," he spoke and leant against the table. He was unmoved. "Leave. All of you. I do not want any of you around the premises before today's exercises end." All of them bowed and turned around to leave. "Not you, Sasuke. Stay."
Sasuke stopped and turned back around, and his eyes caught the angry glint of the sun that moved further away from the window. Then he stood still, head down, eyes fixed upon the clean wooden floor. He listened to the sounds of their steps leave the building. It was so quiet all of a sudden. Only Kirin's soft sounds affected the air; it was sleeping in the inside-pocket of his half unzipped office jacket.
The silence prolonged: Sasuke could truly feel that his brother was looking at him, but he did not raise his eyes to meet his. The searing intensity of his gaze was making him shiver. At last, he spoke in a voice that played with softness, "come here. Sit." He pointed to the chair with a subtle hand movement.
Sasuke did not lift his eyes to stare back. He took three steps and drew the chair and sat down. Itachi stretched his arm and pulled at the drawer. He snapped it shut and put the seal on the table with a loud thunk. The sound resonated in the room. Kirin let out a sleepy, startled cry but subsided to a soft patter of sounds.
"You know what this is?" Itachi asked, his hand on Sasuke's damp forehead as he brushed back the unkempt, tar-black hair and stroked Sasuke's head slowly as though he was a small boy child.
Sasuke was quiet, his eyes downcast. "This is my Anbu seal. No one is allowed to touch it, use it, move it without my permission, but you achieved all that—twice. May I inquire why?" he asked, his voice incredibly soft. "Your chakra lingered longer the second time. What did you use it for? I am sure you can humour your brother."
Sasuke's shallow breaths were stuck in his throat. He could not speak. His lips quivered against the emotion's heaviness. He was afraid. His brother terrified him today. He found his tone to be … fake, mocking. A sparkle of sweat was starting to mist his brow, his shoulders bowed like a tired child's. Did Itachi resent him so much to mock him?
Sasuke did not move his gaze: it remained directed to his hands, white as though dusted by ash. It was as if fear had sucked the blood dry from his body. He saw the green veins jumping under the white casing. He rubbed at his wrist and the shivering flesh there turned pink, but he was still . . . silent . . .
"Silent," Itachi spoke, his voice a little deep, breathy. "When I want for you to speak, you are silent. When I do not want for you to speak, you are never silent. You think I do not know what you have done?" his voice rose a little, yet it still maintained that patient and soft tone. "You nearly got the emissary killed through a band of thugs to send me away. Did you read Sakura's mind to know of the mission? Her mind and body are precarious—nothing stays hidden there." His face became a little harder. A muscle twitched on the side of his jaw as though he was displeased by uttering her name, though his eyes were soft as they roamed across Sasuke's young face.
Sasuke's countenance was deathly pale and not a single heavy breath greatly moved his breast; his tongue, a trained animal in his mouth. He could still wriggle out of this if he did not say anything. It was better not to speak.
"Why did you do this? Did you expect those men to perish? Why make such an elaborate scheme to send me away? I could have asked Suigetsu, but we both know he is not apt at playing these games. You are," he spoke, looking down at his face. "You come up with these tricks, these games to have your way. You thought I would never find out?" Slowly, he shook his head.
The wind hissed outside the window and overpowered the sounds of their breaths. "You are not leaving till you tell me what you used this seal for. This was—what you have done—it is unthinkable. You have no idea of what you have done, you rude child. You nearly got a political official killed." He bent down a little and let out a heavy whisper: "if a whisper of this gets out, you will be put to death, yet you seem not to care. You have never cared of yourself—or me. You are not leaving here. I am not letting you go—not this time." Hints of worry glimmered across his face, but worry gave way to tamed anger that found a true path and glinted in his eyes.
Sounds from outside reached his ears, yet did not distract his eyes, settled upon Sasuke like a heavy cloth in winter; and, still, Sasuke did not speak, words . . . hooked deeply into the tongue's tip. He did not let them rip away and tumble out from his mouth. Moments passed and stretched to a long lull between Itachi's words. He spoke gently again, but with a command coursing in his voice, "look at me, Sasuke."
And in spite of himself, Sasuke raised his eyes. When their gazes met to battle, his brother's eyes pierced into his, and he felt the greatest ache of fear in his heart that was left so fragile at the sight of his dreaded Shurikens that spun with a faceless fury. His heart tripped, a stalled bird; something in the darkness of his mind thrashed violently, and his body convulsed reflexively. He stood up with a sudden jerk. With a loud thud, the chair fell back behind him, his eyes wide as if he was already in Tsukuyomi; his whole body quivered, his lips sealed tight as if cruelly sewn together with careless stitches.
Sasuke staggered back, and the horrors in his heart sung out from black, painfully, madly. His foot knocked against the chair, and it skidded to the right. Unbeknownst to him, a few tears moved down from the side of his red eyes. They burnt, shining on his skin, his breaths quick and loud as though he had been running. Sasuke was petrified . . . afraid that Itachi was going to do something to him again. Itachi only looked, his face changed by the tiniest touch of surprise; he was not expecting this reaction.
"I will not punish you. You have my word," Itachi spoke and stretched his arm to touch him, but Sasuke staggered further back; he cringed away from Itachi's touch, his eyes still fixed on his as if he was trapped in a painful illusion, struggling to tear away and run free.
Sasuke's lips trembled open and he spoke, fighting hard with emotions: "I'm not telling you anything. I won't tell you anything." His breast heaved, his face rosy with a faint and gradual shading of red at the nose and cheeks.
"Tell me the truth. Do not be stubborn. Tell me what you did. At least, I would know how to protect you if someone finds out about this. Do not do this. Do not test me," he warned, the Mangekyō Sharingan pulsing in his eyes, threatening him like a dangerous predator with its claws out. The fear mounted on Sasuke's face. His troubled eyes were upsetting to Itachi: he had never seen him so frightened. He did not want to lure out his Shurikens to rouse fear in him, but it was for his own good . . .
"I won't. You can't make me," Sasuke said defiantly, his voice rising in anger, trembling, "you'll ruin everything again. You always ruin everything. I won't let you. I won't—" He staggered back and turned away to rush out of the door.
"Your fingers so much as touch that door and this will be your last day as a shinobi. You do not want to test me—not now," Itachi spoke behind him, in a voice which was harsher than his previous one. "Then you can moan and protest and I will not listen. This I promise you." Itachi's face was hard as an iron-mask. He stood straight—anger wrung out his senses. Sasuke had to be disciplined.
Sasuke's fingers were close to the handle. They trembled with the desire to touch it, but Itachi's threat had a greater affect upon him; he drew his hand back and stood with his head bowed, defeated. "Come here. Come to me," Itachi spoke, his voice tamed by softness again. His hands stretched out as he moved his fingers slightly to call Sasuke to him.
As though entrapped by his voice, Sasuke's feet moved before he could stop himself. He stopped close to Itachi. He took Sasuke's face between his hands and tilted it up to him, and his thumbs worked with precision whilst he wiped away anger's signs drying around Sasuke's eyes. "You child," he spoke, his voice calmer, hoping that it would soften his brother's anger.
"Tell me the truth. I will not say anything to you. I will not punish you. You have my word. What did you use the seal for? Did you make something for Suigetsu, for someone else? A permit—a permission of some sort? What did you do with it? Tell me," he whispered close to his face, his breath moving across his features. "You are a good boy, Sasuke. You are such a good boy." He bent his head and pressed his lips to his brow, his eyes looking at the nearly ruined chakra veins behind Sasuke's eyes. If he used Genjutsu now, he would drive him mad; and it pained his unwilling heart. He had been too cruel to him . . .
Sasuke looked back at him, his eyes wearing shields of defiance, pushing back the fear. "I won't tell you anything. You'll have to kill me to get it out of my head. Do as you please. I won't tell you," he said, and his voice was steadier this time, and a smile trembled about his mouth.
Itachi's hands moved down, and he looked at him with a distant expression. "If that is what you wish," he spoke and walked around the table. Then he took out a scroll from inside the drawer and placed it on the table. "You are dismissed from your duty. I will decide when you can re-join, not you. You cannot leave the confines of your house. You are not allowed to contact any of your team members. If I catch you disobeying me, it will result in your permanent discharge from service." He cast his cool gaze upon the bewildering expression on Sasuke's face.
"You can't do this—you can't! You're not being fair!" he spoke with difficulty as if he was out of breaths. The wind was knocked out of him.
A cold smile stretched Itachi's lips—a little. "You are the sweetest child. You always forget that I am more than just your brother," he spoke and drew closer, his eyes fixed upon his. "I will forget this whole affair. All you have to do is tell me, and I will burn this scroll right now. Your tricks are not affecting me this time. You are not slipping out of this. So either you leave here and consider yourself dismissed for as long as I deem it necessary, or you tell me the truth. What will you choose? You can decide. I am showing you fairness, am I not?" He crossed his arms and looked back at the flare of anger in Sasuke's eyes.
Sasuke lifted his head, face shaking, cheeks red-hot with fury, eyes wild with the rage from Sharingan. "Damn you," he hissed through trembling lips, contempt lashing his face. Then he spun away and stormed out of the office. Not a moment later, Kai rushed into the room. Itachi breathed out a long breath and leant back against the table.
"Itachi-Sama, should I—"
"Let him go. Let him cool off," he spoke and pinched his eyes closed. He was tired . . .
Night had fallen and Sasuke had not come back. Itachi sat in his chair, looking outside the window at the sombre sky. Wind had eased up, but now, light rain was pattering outside. The door to his office opened with a soft creak and Kai stepped in. The hinges needed oiling; autumn and rains rusted them beyond use.
"You called, Itachi-Sama?" he asked and bowed.
"Where is Sasuke?" he asked and placed his arms on the armrest.
"He abandoned his duties and left for home. I haven't seen him all day," he said and clasped his hands behind his back.
"He did not complete his duties . . . this child," he whispered and rubbed at his temples with his left hand's fingers. "Call him back. I was harsh on him. Tell him that he can return to his duties."
Kai looked at him hesitantly. "There's something more important that requires your attention," he said and put the scroll in his hand on the table. "Danzō has asked for a hearing concerning that Byakugan investigation and Mist prisoner's death. Sasuke has to show himself before the Elders' Council in three days."
Slight surprise disturbed Itachi's composure. "This man . . . " he whispered, and his eyes grew unfriendly. He flashed his eyes to Kai and stood up and picked up the scroll from the table. "Cancel all of my missions. I am going home."
Kai bowed and watched him leave.
The night was cool and pleasant, wind calm; thunder was loud in the sky, but the rain remained gentle. It took him about half an hour to reach home, with the scroll in his hand. A large Uchiha lantern was lit in front of the Uchiha Clan's symbol. The lantern moved back and forth as the wind snuck in.
Itachi closed the door behind him, placed the scroll on the rack, and listened to the rush of feet across the wooden floor. An old servant, Tanaka, came before him; his hands, knotted with veins, were shaking from cold. "Welcome home, Itachi-Sama. Shall I get you dinner?" he asked, his small eyes shining. He was a kind-looking old man.
"No, I need to speak with Sasuke. Where is he?" he asked and took off his sandals.
His head snapped in the direction of Sasuke's room. He was swaying now. It was difficult for him to stand for long periods of time. "I haven't seen him since evening. What's the matter, Itachi-Sama?" he asked, his voice raspy and old.
Itachi turned to his Sharingan and found the whole house empty save for Serizawa who was crumpled on the floor in Sasuke's room. He flashed to the room. When he opened the door, a burning smell went up his nose like fire. Serizawa's body still trembled with the electrical charge. Sasuke had used a mild Raiton on him. He could see Serizawa's heart beat slowly in his breast. He was alive, with minor burn wounds all over his body.
Itachi drew closer to the low table when he saw a deep red glint on Sasuke's headband, abandoned on a scroll by the lantern. He bent down and picked it up. It was a resignation letter: Sasuke had resigned from his post and left home. "Sasuke . . . " he spoke through clenched teeth, " . . . what have you done?" He sat down on the floor and put a hand upon his face. Where would he find him . . . in three days?
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