white, surge red

by Sugahlei

Naruto struggles with some unexplained, unforeseen chakra fluctuations, and Sasuke, driven and consumed and convinced of his hatred, makes a bad decision. Everything spirals on beyond this point and Sasuke won't let Naruto beat him at this game. He's determined to win, no matter the cost. No matter what breaks.

7. seven pt1

!Warning/Disclaimer!

This story – this ancient, undying thing – is an angsty, sorta-dark unhappy love story. The characters don't belong to me, I just have fun throwing them together and dumping in the angst. Sasuke...is not in a good place, and Naruto isn't anywhere near normal, either. This story contains lots of sex and swearing, abuse/non-con and a road through the storm. Eventually. There's a lot of mental fuckery that comes first.

This is Rated R, for a reason. Please read accordingly.

...and if you were around when this was first put up, uh...Hi? I'm not dead? This fic has not and, I fear, will never die and I'm determined to see this shit through. As a bonus, this has been worked over and fixed for flow and clarification.

~white, surge red~

:part seven, 1/2:

(…momentarily ago…)

There are hands on his body but he can't see the face, only touch and graze mouth and teeth across the skin beneath him. It's dizzying, blinding pressure that bends his spine until the hands hold him up, until it's the only thing he does feel, those clever, decadently warm hands.

It's just a dream, he thinks, laying claim with his own wide-flung fingers against the skin, a mouth to the pulse. It can't be anything else; anything else would do irreparable damage. It's nothing, it has no meaning—it's nothing—

A mouth both warmer and sooner than expected glides down his collarbone and to the shoulder, mock-sharp nips to pale skin and flexing hands on his belly, flat and sure and soothingly cold to the burning in the middle—he wants those hands lower, because it doesn't matter if he's not supposed to want this, it's just a goddamned dream—

—nothing-just a dream—nothingnothingnothing—

So he pulls the other closer and hears the shallow noises of his own voice as he tastes skin and sweat and the sweet-metal flavor of the heat and want in his belly. Soon, the other is pinned beneath and coiling against him, wide mouth open and panting, eyes covered by moon-pale hair.

Sasuke is already lost and doesn't see, setting his teeth almost gently against the neck, arms up and bracing, deep and aching under the not-pain of being so close to Naruto, inundated by red swallowing pleasure and—

—Sasuke doesn't care anymorehe doesn't, it's always—the only time—always—

—it's always just a dream.

-::-

The cold early-winter rain isn't the sound that wakes her. Stirring, Tsunade's eyes open into a semi-darkness lit only by the lamps on either end of her desk. She takes a moment rub a firm hand over neck muscles still tight with sleep, without raising her head or any other part of her body. It must be late; she should check on Naruto—

Then, as she lifts her head from papers and assorted notes, the cause of her sudden alertness isn't a sound at all—

Such subtle chakra, she thinks, rubbing her face now and feeling twice as old as she actually was. Awake for less than half a minute and acutely aware of how the chakra creeps from her senses, flickering and…

God-ohgodno she knew that chakra—

Face white, Tsunade jumps to her feet, chair cracking back in three separate pieces as she strides to the seal-locked door to Naruto's room and slams it open; it smacks against the wall in a thunderclap of noise and Naruto isn't there.

Naruto isn't there.

It takes her one bewildering moment to realize the smooth slope of an arm and dark hair belonged to Uchiha—

"You little bastard," she murmurs, knees weak. Naruto isn't there. The window. The window is open and the rain has soaked the bed and she can feel chakra so dense and far at the same time—

"Uchiha, wake up!" she snaps. "What the hell happened—Uchiha!"

No answer and she's at the bed in the next breath, one hand to his throat, a wild panic screaming Kyuubi! The Kyuubi! in the hollow of her mind. Uchiha doesn't wake at her touch. His heart-rate is fast and shallow, a faint line of white beneath the lids when she pulls him onto his back. He's out cold and doesn't respond—and she knows, finally, with one more piece clicking into place.

"Damn," her voice echoes under the rain, mind flashing bright and hard Of course Naruto improved, once he had a secondary source of chakra! Her hand flashes over the cords at her wrist. "Damn."

Kakashi pohfs into view before his summon-bracelet hits the floor. He must have been on his way. Tsunade sits on the edge of the bed and levels a hand over Uchiha's chest, stabilizing his chakra before meeting Kakashi's gaze. "Can you feel that—?"

"Of course I can!" he mutters at once, alarmed, kneeling to turn Sasuke's wrists in his palm. "Tsunade-sama, everyone sensitive enough can feel it. I've already had to head off Danzo's minions on my way here." one suck of shallow surprise and worry. "What's happened to Sasuke? His chakra—he's completely—"

"Naruto happened," she replies, folding the blanket over the Uchiha, avoiding the way Kakashi's eye darts to her in startled brightness. "He's been supplementing his lack of chakra with Sasuke's, it seems...I need you to find Tsukamoto and prepare the village if…if something. Well. Goes poorly. Go discreetly, and then follow me into the Forest." She lifts the boy into a better position with a heavy pause, absently examining the scrapes and bruises on the pale skin. "What should we do with him?"

Kakashi, expecting another order, any order, blinks and staggers into speech. "I, uh—forgive me, Hokage-sama, but…Sasuke…if he wakes to Naruto, well, not Naruto…I don't know…it might be worse to separate them at this point."

"Bring him, then, when you've found Tsukamoto. I'll need to talk to him."

"What will we tell the village? The Council?" he asks and she hears the unspoken worry with the memory that still burned over Naruto's past. It would be stupid to think that those people wouldn't recognize or remember…and even if they didn't remember, they wouldn't miss the malevolent swell of chakra so insidiously close.

"You will tell them nothing," she replies, gravely, line of sight lifting to the outer edge of the village and beyond. "Let me handle Danzo…because Naruto would've attacked by now, if the seal had broken. I'll make sure they understand that we're handling the situation, and we'll ask, if we need assistance."

Kakashi nods and gathers up the Uchiha's clothing before accepting the blanket-bundle of his body. Then he vanishes from sight. Tsunade shivers in the spattering of rain, fingers tracing her wrist. Her eyes fall to the second bracelet snaking on the floor and feels an irritation that nothing to do with the situation. She had counted on Jiraiya's presence should this ever occur and now the pervert had the balls to ignore her—

Fine, she thinks, hands closing tightly against anxious fear. I'll do this on my own.

-::-

Kakashi arrives just in time to hear the question; Sasuke is a heavy weight over his shoulder and an even heavier stone in the depths of his mind, but a problem he can't afford to focus on yet. Touching down to the stone parapet of the village wall, he glances down and around to see almost everyone turning their gaze towards the unseen, menacing presence.

"What is that?" one young, inexperienced Anbu is asking. He is one of three grouped on the wall near Tsukamoto's station, the only one not struck speechless by the sense of power not far enough away, too young to really remember.

"Ah, Tsukamoto, a moment?" Kakashi calls lightly, letting his feet scrape just enough to alert them without startling them into a high-strung attack, glad that he took the time to pull a shirt and shorts onto Sasuke before arriving. Of the three Anbu that twist their heads to his location, the middle-aged top-ranked Anbu is the only one who doesn't give unconscious Sasuke an odd look.

After a moment, Tsukamoto motions to an area a small distance away. "Do you know what's happening, Kakashi-san?" he asks, low and uneasy, too professional to show it.

"Yes, that," Kakashi hums to himself quite deliberately, shifting Sasuke as he lay over one shoulder. "You know Uchiha-kun had duties regarding the care of Uzumaki, right? Seems Sasuke here had a, well, fight with Naruto, and now the brat's out in the Forest, pissed as hell. The Hokage went to calm him down." He smiles and lowers his voice. "You know how these two are."

"Ah. Well, um. Will something happen?" Tsukamoto's gaze flickers, skin paling slightly when he finally replies.

"Oh, it's unlikely to be anything, Naruto just needs some time to cool his temper." Kakashi smiles briefly. "Your orders are to station Anbu and selected jounin along the wall, supervision only. Is that clear? Hokage-sama will not be happy if someone were to...overreact."

"Perfectly. I'll inform the others of the situation."

"Good. Shizune will be along with further orders." As Kakashi steps to the outer edge of the wall, he catches the older man's sharp nod, returns it, then he's off and into the trees after the elusive taint of chakra.

-::-

Naruto dreams of razor-bright wire sliding over his hands, cutting and slashing and hurting them, until he bleeds and bleeds and knows he can't let go. Has to hold it. Hold it tight.

—helpme—

Even though it hurts he's not ready he doesn't know—holds tight—tighter—holds even as it feels like his bones are splintering with the pressure of his grip—grits his teeth against burning until there's nothing left but pain and stubborn desperation and the echo of Sasuke's voice—have to have to—and keeps going through and beyond until it's the focus of his world, the center, its creation—

—keep going stay strong don't—

—Sasuke— with the insistent urge he needed, he didn't care —holding far, far too fast—so red—keeps it going—will not drop it—

—please—stay with it—

going into redness that holds him under as tight as his aching hands could hold.

—stay—

-::-

In the end, she makes her way alone to the source, cold and fighting shivers at the pre-winter air. The chakra coils and twists before her, faint on the edges of her senses but unavoidably there like a splinter under the nail. Alien. Wrong. Unnatural—

—and yet, with purpose. She can feel it, taste it and cringes as it ignores her in return—

Tsunade can't find him at first; the air flashes with violent, fire-hot red before her eyes can focus on it. Naruto was near and hidden. She stops in a small clearing choked with tangled vines and shrubs, towered over by the trees and smeared with viscous black mud.

As the Hokage looks with eyes and ears and heart, it doesn't turn out to be as difficult to locate him. In fact, it's rather obvious with the glint of shredded aluminum cans here and there, rain-melted paper that speckles the ground around the bushes. They look as if they've been ripped apart and tossed aside, and she wonders why. Wonders where he got them, what he used to shred them like paper and if he actually ate the contents uncooked. The air reeks of an odd, musky-sweat human odor—

Somewhere close, anyway, and Tsunade walks forward in the sleeting wetness, following the mess.

"Naruto?" she rasps. "I know you're there—Shit, don't tell me you can't hear me, I know you're there…" she coughs hoarsely on the edge of tears, stopping only feet away from the source of the tainted chakra, skin tight with goosebump fear. Oh child, what's happening to you? She thinks, gnawing at her lip.

Of all things, this is something she doesn't expect; a tree half-ripped from the ground and caught by its brethren, angled enough that the hole dug down underneath it is both protected and deep.

The entrance is framed by a mess of stark-white roots seeping rivulets of sap and rainwater, still clumped with muddy earth. It's low, and dark enough with the rain that Tsunade can't see him from where she is, but signs of him are everywhere. The scraps of household things, the now-empty cans of food, thick black mud that must have come from under the tree—

Of all things, Naruto had made himself a den underneath the thickness of a half-fallen tree.

Tsunade can't help the bitter-sick twist of misery that Naruto's instincts were so much stronger than she knew. I should've known—and it's still so much worse than the fear she feels when she drops to her knees within a few yards of the tree. "Naruto!" she calls. "Naruto, I know you're there—"

She had to find out what was happening with Naruto, and that meant she must go down there, somehow get closer, and find him somewhere behind all that horrible-feeling chakra—she doesn't want to go in there.

The woman waits for a response just in case, hearing nothing but the rain dripping and the bitter-musk chakra in the darkness ahead of her. She wraps fingers around the mud-clumped roots before she realizes the shape of the den widens into a three-yard space, flat and roughly oval, too dark to really see anything. She takes a breath to calm herself, scooting forward with mud splashing on her robe, one hand over heard to grasp at the wet, knobbly roots. Another breath, trying to see without getting too close.

She still can't see him. The chakra brushes her hands and face. "Come on, brat," Tsunade pleads. "Say something, anything, just talk to me—"

The rain is the only sound she hears. She can't force herself to go any closer than the root-laced barrier; instinct warns her against such trespass.

Tsunade loses track of how long the minutes are as she sits out there, listening, sensing only the twist of red chakra before her, eventually spurred by the cold to build a small fire in the driest spot she can find. Tries to think, to prepare, too caught up in worry to manage either.

But the firelight lends enough to her vision to make out the rain-soaked, wrinkled t-shirt on a slumped unmoving body from where she sits. Naruto is curled up in a nook of hand-carved earth, hunched with his back towards her, smeared with mud and slick with rain. Unresponsive to the soft cry of his name, the plea for attention.

The chakra twists between them, and she feels her heart crack under the weight of what she must do, if she dares to take risk of the tainted chakra solidifying into something else, of Naruto emerging as anything but a foolish brat mixed up in things he couldn't understand. She can't afford the risk so she pulls her gaze and senses away again with her heart throbbing in her chest.

It takes a while before she convinces herself that the chakra hasn't actually taken any interest in her other than awareness, that the cave was nothing more than a shallow depression dug into the earth exposed by the broken, trailing roots and Naruto wasn't in any sort of threat, yet—

—yet, her mind whispers. Wait, just wait—

So she forces the panic and worry back, clearing her mind to understand the first precaution she needs to take. Tsunade puts a hand to the ground and starts to lays down wards in a fifty-foot radius around the dark mouth of the den; with the firelight, she can still make out the slumped back of Naruto just beyond the mouth.

Now, after ten excruciating minutes of painstaking work with cramping fingers, Tsunade is nearly finished with the first line of defense.

Shizune is the first to arrive, breathless and overburdened with scrolls and weapons and blankets. Tsunade makes a mental note to send her back for food, as Naruto doesn't seem to be going anywhere, yet.

"The scrolls," Shizune is gasping. "I just grabbed all of them; how is he?"

"Aside from the chakra, he appears to be in a form of catatonia. I think he's fine." Tsunade dips the line and connects over two hundred yards of ward-jutsu together. Imbedded chakra hums gently under her hands, and she sits back on her haunches with a groan as Shizune hands her a bottle of water. "Mmn. Thanks."

"…is it the seal?" Shizune questions softly.

The rain leaves her shivering, but Tsunade feels numb in response to the chakra more than anything else. She sighs lightly, pained, before she answers. "No, I don't think so. This feels more like...a bleed of chakra pressure, but I'm having a hard time telling if it's coming from Naruto or not."

A frizzle of ozone-laced chakra alerts her to Kakashi twenty feet behind them, laying the unconscious Sasuke down under the shelter of a blanket. Tsunade has the rare moment to see Shizune look alarmed and puzzled, rubbing away the water on her face. If she hadn't seen Uchiha so pale and limp already, she would've been shocked as well.

"Tsunade-sama, is he…what happened to him?"

"I found him drained of chakra in Naruto's bed earlier," she replies dryly. "If I had to guess, I'd say Naruto's been stealing his chakra for some time now, for some reason. I didn't even think to check him over…and I doubt Uchiha knew. It's likely something to do with why Naruto's been losing chakra in the first place. Will you keep an eye on him for a few hours?" Tsunade gestures to the scrolls and lays the one Shizune hands her across her knees to skim through it. After a second, as Shizune hands her another, she rolls it up and sets it aside.

"Of course, but why—why? I mean, we knew Naruto-kun was having difficulty maintaining healthy levels, but…there wasn't any sign of it leaking away, and we never caught him storing it anywhere."

"Might be related to the instinct-problem he's having; like the way squirrels bury their food. I don't know." She pauses to glance at the muddy den and evaluate the flux of chakra; it twirls in desultory mocking. "I'm sure we'll find out. Worst-case scenario, it's trying to separate."

Tsunade turns her gaze to where Kakashi has left Uchiha for Shizune, then to where Kakashi is settling into a tree, hands blurring into seals; she realizes he's already set the outer-ward and feels a touch grateful and indignant that he thought she couldn't finish it.

For now, as she opens another scroll and skims that one too, it's just the five of them.

-::-

(2nd day, early morning)

Jiraiya arrives early on the second day of Naruto's inexplicable situation, tramping through the undergrowth and cursing every step.

Tsunade wakes from a too-short sleep with a snort, still seated just between the first and second ward-lines, ten yards or so from the low-slung den. She rubs briefly at her face and turns her eyes to see the wild-haired old man working free from a tangle of vines. "Ngh. You're lazy and late, old geezer. Which whore stole your stuff this time?"

"Eh?" the hermit scowls in her direction, tugging on his leg to free his ankle. "Oh, are you talking about that trinket you gave me? Psh. I pawned it to some pretty young thing four days ago for a bottle—"

"I gave you that trinket in case I had an emergency, you stupid fart!" she chucks a rock at his head with enough force to be satisfied at the way it bounces off his horned forehead protector. It subsequently knocks him free.

"Yes, well," Jiraiya staggers to a stop, pauses to brush at his clothes. "I showed up anyway, crone. What'd the brat do this time?" Momentarily pleased with the state of his clothes, Jiraiya settles near Tsunade with a careful step over mud-written wards and examines the root-barred entrance, sniffing at the drone of chakra.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be out here, would I?"

Hmming to himself, Jiraiya licks a finger and holds it up into the air, licking it again and frowning. After a moment, he nods to Kakashi in his lookout position—Kakashi waves his orange book with a merry smile—and then to Shizune as she keeps vigil over the slump of the Uchiha boy. His gaze narrows, hiding his suddenly serious, worried expression in a foolish grin. "Did they fight over who's wearing the wedding dress?"

"Get serious, old man!"

"What's wrong with the seal, then?"

"I don't know," she snaps, arms crossed and scowling. "I haven't had the chance to get close, yet, but I'm pretty sure it isn't that!"

"Well, first, have some sake so you can stop bitching at me," Jiraiya rolls his eyes and fumbles for a bottle and tosses it her way. "Then, you can tell me what's going on."

Tsunade catches it with a sweep of her hand and takes a pull; after a moment, a deep breath and out again. She rubs at her forehead for a moment, still tense and shaking. "It's his chakra…but I don't know what he's doing with it. He's channeling it, somehow, into the ground, I think. I'm pretty sure he's doing something with it. Problem is, he shouldn't have that much to begin with."

"Channeling it into the ground?" Jiraiya repeated, puzzled and squinting for a better view.

"More like a ball of mud. It looks like mud, anyway…I haven't gotten close to find out. Kakashi can't see much with the sharingan, and I am not finding some Hyuuga to look for me."

"And he's channeling all of his chakra into it?"

"Yes," Tsunade replies softly. "Every bit he's got and stolen…It might be possible he's attempting some sort of jutsu…"

"…stolen?" Jiraiya snaps his head around quick enough to make his spine crackle, guessing, "From Uchiha? So that's why he was getting 'better'…"

She stops breathing for a moment when Jiraiya stops hiding his own fear and trails off in his own thoughts, his own estimations and worries. Her mouth works in some familiar grief; Jiraiya knows the worry that eats at her heart. If it was a jutsu to separate boy from fox, if in any way it compromised the village…

They'd have to put a stop to it.

After a second, Jiraiya lets out a heavy breath and gropes for his own sake bottle. "Well, shit," is all he can bring himself to say.

-::-

Sasuke doesn't remember falling into dreaming; he feels like he's been dreaming longer than days, longer than years, even…but he doesn't remember that his dream is nothing more than it ever is, shadows and the sense of feeling around for something, anything, some thing that when he finds it, he's sure it will warm and still tacky with blood.

His dream-self fears that it could be Naruto who should be dead but won't die, fears the sight of clear blue eyes meeting his until his dream-self stumbles over the notion.

But whatever it is that he hunts for, he loathes to find it and wants to and doesn't, until the anticipation crawls through him with jagged nails. Until he starts to dream he'll never slip across it and force it to submit, until his echoing can't-can't-can't falters as quickly as his heart.

Can't find it—won't ever—won't ever find it, he fears.

If he can't find it, he'll kill it—don't—right under the harsh, unspoken —kill him that has to be right. Killhimkillhimbeforeitallgoeswrong—

If he can, he will—

If he does—

Then, as if unfastened, Sasuke's dream-self waits with slow-opening eyes at the edge of an abyss, dark and illuminated from some unseen force.

Itachi waits above, perched on what seems like a mountain across the vast blackness, bored and impatient with his mocking, malicious words, the echoes of disdain and laughter like dull, rusting blades.

—he doesn't care—doesn't care I'm trying doesn't care I have to be stronger—

Itachi's face is pale and bloated with derision as sharp as glass and Sasuke's hands are clenched; he's cold and sick and desperate on his side of the distance, despairing of crossing and unable to explain how the thought of attempting to reach his brother's level is discordant. How anyone could be like that.

How he could be like that, how he is, how he needs to be—

Noise behind him, scraping and dragging, and the dream-space lightens as if the source of the noise lends it energy.

Sasuke's dream-self turns from the scene of his brother far across from him, ignoring his presence because Itachi will always be there, always there to wait and mock him for trying – Sasuke has no fear of losing sight of Itachi.

…and now there's a form dark against the shadows of the dream-space, a form that snags his attention like a dirty hook. Hands stretching forth –scrraape–and the fingers are filthy with cracked nails. Dirt or mud or something oily is smeared on his wrists –scrrraaaape–

…and he knows who he'll see, dragging themselves forward on sheer tenacity.

Naruto.

Battered, grimy, still fierce and stubborn. There is blood on Naruto's face when he moves his head enough to breathe and see him. His eyes are the brightest color behind the blood on his hair and skin, wild and piercing. Sasuke fears it, frozen on the want to stumble back, horrified to look weak to either force present.

The fact that Naruto holds just as much sway as Itachi goes unnoticed to his dream-self. Sasuke is too busy watching Naruto curl his fingers into the grit and the muscles that bunch with the effort. Sasuke's body is tense and cramping into numbness as Naruto pulls himself to a crouch, staggering.

There are so many things Sasuke wants to scream at him, to hurt him, hate him and make him hate back and anything to smear away the look in those blue eyes and make him turn away but Sasuke has to turn away first—his hands are half-clenched and raising their own mute denial—

Itachi's laughter is a dry-leaf rasp, and just as dead.

Naruto lunges—

—no—

—too quick for reaction, and the snap of impact sends Sasuke sideways, shocked breathless with the pain of falling hard. Naruto lands beside him and Sasuke can taste the blood seeping into his mouth.

—-no no hate me no—

There is too much blood on Naruto's body to match the smile on the face and blazing in the eyes—

—Itachi will kill you he will he will—Sasuke shreds himself from the thought with the force of a wrenching shriek because he doesn't want that, he doesn't want Naruto dead—that stupid, foolish loudmouthed blond had no right becoming something more, Naruto had to hate him back because–

—because it wouldn't work if—

—If Naruto—

Going from nightmare to awareness is a sucker punch to the middle, tight and painful as Sasuke rips himself from the dream and into a wretched wash of green-gold luminescence, a shriek lingering in his ears, hands clenching claw-like around the middle of his chest. He stands there, half-hunched and halfway across the small forest clearing he doesn't recognize and he realizes he must have moved.

Forest?

His legs shake with the last of his strength; Sasuke takes three, whooping gulps of air, still bent and hair in his face; struggling to make the airflow normal and let his body remember how to breathe with the static-shock of adrenaline, to keep down the taste of bile—

He gags once, imprinting on the soft-earth and wet, slimy leaves decomposing between the white shape of his feet. His vision blurs; he can barely stand even as he wonders how the hell he got there—

"Uchiha!" and then he's aware there are people around him, most importantly the Hokage only ten paces away from him. In that brief, disorienting moment of jerking his head up to see, he is reflexively aware of the signature of each chakra, five of them, too close to differentiate without concentration. Wonders what he must look like, staggering there, and for a moment wants to shriek in ember-bright fury—

But Naruto is here, somewhere, unseen, but here—all of it recognized in a matter of thought and gone as Sasuke fights down the last threads of a dream he can't quite remember and forces back the sensation of his legs buckling.

"You should probably lie down," Kakashi calls from somewhere behind him, somewhere above. "Before you fall down."

Stationed as lookout, Sasuke recognizes and doesn't quite understand. Without replying, Sasuke allows himself to fold to the earth and shudders at the moistness that seeps into his loose pants. His head hangs and the skin of his back crawls in disturbing, unwanted warning.

What am I doing here?

Turning a head that seems too heavy, Sasuke tries to determine just where their party was located, and if it would be easier to just leave right now, before anything else happens, or if the Hokage decides to take out whatever issue she has over Naruto on him.

Naruto. The last thing before he woke was the imprint of a dizzying hollow madness, darkness and the high walls of the Tower.

Naruto, in shadows, under his hands, under him—

"Wh—" Sasuke rasps, tearing the thoughts away and forcing out a general question, realizing he's intensely thirsty as his throat catches on the word.

"Here," Kakashi says from just beside him. He looks tired; his normal black-and-tan outfit is smeared with mud and specks of bark. There is a beetle exploring the zipper as the white-haired man offers a flask of water.

Sasuke drinks deeply enough to send it running down over his throat; the water lodges low and heavy in his gut, the coldness aching right through his head. His eyes, as the thoughts in his head settle into place, flicker about the clearing. The strange old hermit man Jiraiya, one of Naruto's teachers and possibly a sannin. Sasuke doesn't trust his shabby appearance. Shizune he dismisses out of hand; she's seated at a focal point on a ward-line—

Because of the demon—there's a demon inside Naruto, he thinks, eyes tracking away from the woman and along the ground, that crawly, cold-prickle tension in his middle with the sight of curling scrimshaw lines and the reflective buzz of chakra behind his ears.

Something's wrong. Something's happening. That's one of the strongest, complicated ward-lines he's ever seen.

His eyes run into the Hokage sitting on the outside of a low dark mass—squinting from behind his hair, he can make out depth and understands that Naruto is within that unlit hole. His chakra is burning from there, unseen, as Tsunade watches Sasuke with her hands in her lap.

"What happened?" Kakashi asks quietly, fingers easing away the bottle.

—failed! chimes bitterly through Sasuke's head. I failed completely failed—couldn't even—

"Sasuke," Kakashi murmurs in the wake of his silence. "That was an order."

"We argued," Sasuke lies, sliding eyes to the trees and canopy, the pale wash of blue beyond, missing the way Kakashi's eyebrow rises in amusement. "I don't remember much…"

—but I tried to kill him, in his head, beating as quick as the pulse in his middle, as quick as the flicker of red on the edge of his vision. Tried to kill him—tried and—tried and—tried and failed and now what do I do?

—the red, prickling chakra flares and twists brighter; Sasuke lurches back with a convulsive shudder. Kakashi's hand on his shoulder is the only thing keeping him stationary. There, Sasuke thinks, eyes raking the darkness but there's no visible presence within it. There, right there is a demon, right there behind the wards—

Something wrong with Naruto…tried to kill him and now something is wrong—

After a moment, it flickers and subsides to backwashing gently on the edges of his senses. The shudder racking through him is painful; failed, yes, he failed but this—because of this—who could fight this—?

Is this chakra—is this because of—was it all because of this red, malignant chakra—?!

Sasuke still recognizes it from so long ago, somehow familiar with the tang in the back of his throat that identifies everything that is Naruto to him, strange and alien and aware of him—

"Tell me what's going on," Sasuke asks in defense of Kakashi's tired glare, returns it with a half-strength scowl and pulls away from the hand on his shoulder. Wants to shudder and fights the urge to whine against the situation, the urge to make any noise of defiance—

"…Tsunade found you yesterday morning in Naruto's bed, alone. We could feel this from the village," Kakashi speaks softly, lifting a shoulder to indicate the tainted chakra around them. "Naruto's been within that cave since then; probably before, now that I think of it. Wasn't he tracking mud all over for the last few days?"

—a flash of indignant rage with the memory of that goddamned mud.

"But—"

"Did you realize he was stealing your chakra, Sasuke?" Kakashi reaches down and pokes the beetle to a safer part of his vest. "We think he's been storing up his own, too, which explains his inability to function. But, I guess it wasn't enough, or—" Kakashi manages a small smile. "Or because he could steal from you, it wasn't necessary to store up as much of his own."

"…why?" Sasuke breathes out, unable to bring enough voice to the word. Stolen chakra?! My chakra? There is earth and detritus digging into his knees and legs. Confusion. The way Naruto had always wandered away in exhaustion, the way he slept. His possessive, thieving nature. Blinding anger. The idiot had stolen from him—

—I'm always so tired—

It's not easy to force his eyes to focus loosely on the disconcerting blank face of his teacher. His mind whirls into fragments of jointed thought, one thought to the next without remembering the first. Sasuke can't track them all, can't even begin—too much, too fast, so much pain—

"We don't know yet."

"Then tell me what you do know!" Sasuke catches his breath and holds it into glass-sharp heat in his middle, eyes tracking the wards and uses the dizzying confusion to hide behind, the echoes of mocking voices and that horrible, wretched thing ripping apart inside him—

"We only know what it could be…" Kakashi catches his glance and replies gravely "The ward-lines are a precaution until we figure out what he's trying to do. You know what he is, don't you, Sasuke?"

He does. The bastard must've caught him eyeing the lines. And Sasuke was here, seeing it and feeling it crisp the air around him—because Naruto had—his mind shies like a butterfly from the thought, unable to pin it down and look.

—can't fight this can't can't can't—

"…is he…" Too dizzy, too distressed by unnamed, black-fluttering panic, he can't force himself to finish.

"We don't know if he's alright; it's not quite safe to get closer. Do you even care if he survives this, Uchiha Sasuke?" Tsunade replies for the first time since his awakening, quietly reflective. The hard, icy coating is gone from her voice; she sounds tired and ill. He has no illusions that she won't read everything in his face and recoils defensively, hunching.

"…" Sasuke waits through an inarticulate moment of indignant anger without moving, barely breathing, because all of his clues and pieces still won't fit together. Naruto stealing chakra…out here in the woods, wild and lost in that abnormal chakra…

…and all Sasuke can do is echo Naruto's words from what feels like forever ago. "What's wrong with his chakra—?"

"Hmm…I thought he told you about the Kyuubi."

Sasuke flinches minutely, unable to control it. It wasn't the same as being told, if you found out by accident. Something mocks him with horrible choking laughter and Naruto—his demon—it had explained so much—

But I still don't understand!

It's apparent that Sasuke has no intentions of speaking without encouragement; Tsunade sighs, poking at the ground with a twig. She has to crane her head back around her shoulder just to get a glimpse of his reactions, but she does it anyway to prevent any blemish on the warding seals made by turning around to face him fully.

"The soul of the creature is sealed within him, kept separate but for the influence of its chakra," she begins. "Like his abnormal healing rate, his stamina…"

Sasuke's fists clamp painfully tight against the loamy ground and he forces his voice to rasp, "…like instincts?"

"Yes," she replies gravely. "Like instincts."

In the murky indecision of what this could mean, its potential, Sasuke can't bring himself to speak—hears I can't help it! in Naruto's words, his behavior and violently-odd nature, Naruto's voice and the static-screech of another part making itself into sense. Something wrong with his chakra, something different—

—redbrilliantred—

His demon. Whatever problem it was, Naruto couldn't stop it, couldn't control it, but Sasuke doesn't even know if this puts the power of it back down to his level—

Tsunade fills in the silence with cool, matter-of-fact tones. "…and despite your involvement, you haven't made it any easier. I should send you back to the village, now that you're awake. No point in keeping you here."

Again, against his will, Sasuke flinches more from anger than shock. After all this time, waiting to know, the bitch is still withholding knowledge—

I went to kill him, Sasuke's reaction is bright and furious, taking form in an onslaught of questions he wanted to shout at her, It doesn't matter, I should know—tell me I have to—I still have to—tell me!—tell me what he's doing! What he's trying, what he wants—

"But I suspect that would be a mistake on my part," Tsunade concedes reflectively, blandly. "We'll have enough to discuss after this. For now, you need to sit and be silent."

Sasuke's eyes narrow on her; the words fall into the stretch of confused, angry frustration but he bites his tongue against the seething words behind his rage. Like a child like I'm some fucking child—

For a moment, she stares him down until Sasuke drops his gaze like a heavy stone and listens to the rustle of her clothing when she turns to ignore him; Sasuke's left with the irritating, itchy sense that she's said her piece and makes no mistake about who has the upper hand.

Sasuke's hair is in his face, hiding most of his expression. He slouches with his hands against the ground, sprawled with his legs bent before him. He takes a measure of calm from the cool, gritty soil, clawing at it in one slow stroke.

I'll find out somehow, I will!

He sits there for the hour or so it takes for the light to darken, mute and aching and thinking furiously in the effort to figure it out before the chance passed. What it meant. What he meant.

What everything meant, and how Sasuke needs to use it.

-::-

Three hours after sunset, Sasuke's back to sleeping under a blanket at the base of a craggy oak, all but hidden. Tsunade, absently, passes a gaze over his curled-up form in speculation and worry; she pokes briskly at the fire to ward off the chill down her spine.

Next to her Jiraiya sips at his never-ending supply of sake. He harrumphs softly, tugging at the long ends of his hair. "So what should we do with Uchiha?" he asked softly. "The kid's not normal; you saw the way he woke up, earlier, like he was facing down hell itself…"

Tsunade snorts softly, thumping the old man's arm for his bottle. "Repressed trauma, I'm guessing," she replies evenly. "Healing the effects of the tsukuyomi once is hard enough; I'm positive he's suffered it more than once. I've never gotten the chance to examine him further." She huffs. "As if he'd ever let me. What do you think, Kakashi? You spend more time with the brat."

"He's mostly frightened," Kakashi offers, visible eye cracking slightly. He shifted, yawned and continued. "First, nobody ever really knows how to deal with Naruto, and Sasuke…well, to summarize…Sasuke's just trying to hide his important things so they don't get broken."

"He looked…" empty, is the word she wants to use and drowns it with a heavy sigh. She dwells briefly on the way the Uchiha boy had ripped himself from sleep, the horrified anguish twisting his face, the shriek she recognized without ever hearing it from another person.

Her eyes fall on the dark shadow of Naruto and the low red-wash drone of chakra. Important things, huh? "I'll have a talk with him tomorrow."

-::-

The humming pitch of the red chakra changes late that evening, escalates into a dual-toned humming white noise more felt than heard. While Tsunade can't get close enough to see the exact reaction, she feels it sharply. Whatever Naruto's purpose was with that strange concoction, whatever he was trying to do, she feels it scalding over her senses—over Kakashi and Jiraiya as both arrow their focus onto the source—over sleeping Sasuke, who stumbles through a breath—

—then it whipsnaps tight and filament-bright with a dull thrummm that aches in her bones, but she barely feels it next to her terror, next to the stricken confusion when she sees the substance under Naruto's curled-up body, radiant and roiling with the chakra patterns that move and twist—Naruto has one arm drawn over the upper curve, the color sliding under it is red-edged black.

"What's happening?" asks Jiraiya's sake-hoarse voice. "What in a toad's warty ass is that?"

"Tsunade-sama!"

"Hold your ground!" she orders without looking, sweat slick on her skin. "Stay back from the wards—no matter what happens!" Avoiding a break in the lines is their strongest card; the last thing she wants is something going wrong where she can't contain it. Slowly, Tsunade takes a breath, assessing, trying for calm.

"Be ready with the primary seal-chain, Jiraiya," she finally rasps, mouth dry, unable to figure out how she manages to speak. She catches the blur of his hands and knows he'll wait on the last hand-seal until she gives the word or it becomes absolutely necessary. If she makes a mistake in timing, in strength, she could be trapped within the wards with Naruto.

Above her, intensely focused and crouching, Kakashi draws the Anbu blade he hasn't carried in years.

Tsunade waits, watching, counting the odds and risks—

Thrumming underlay to the rising, crystalline tone, harmonizing—the chakra patterning over the red-murky goop holds a steady pulse, twitching and twisting as quickly as her heartbeats.

She doesn't dare let her guard down as it shimmers innocently around her, ignoring her in lieu of whatever's happening…but she doesn't raise the hand that trembles with fine-grained fear, the words to constrict the wards and rebind the alien spirit are quiet and ashen in her mouth.

They wait for hours, balanced on numb legs and a pincushion edge of anticipation and despair. Tsunade feels each heartbeat thudding at her temples, each jump in adrenaline with every swirl of dull, burning chakra. She can see that Naruto still hasn't moved and refuses to decide if it's good or not. The demon's chakra interferes with her ability to judge Naruto's vital signs from a distance.

He could be dying, and she has no idea.

A hesitant, soft birdcall somewhere in the forest. She looks up; it's nearly morning. It takes everything she has just to stay still and calm before such wild, malicious power.

"Switch with me, Tsunade-hime. You need some sleep." Jiraiya's hands are still shaking, but his voice is gruff and kind.

"But—"

"Fuck, if something was going to happen, it would have already! Now, switch with me before I drag you out of there."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," and the echo of her own voice is weak and trembling. She sighs softly, and looks back to the forest and rubs a brisk forearm over her eyes. "I should talk to Uchiha, first. While I have the chance. Wake the little punk up."

-::-

Sasuke wakes from a dreamless, suffocating sleep to a swift nudge in his side, courtesy of Kakashi's foot. Blearily, he blinks in the pre-dawn gray light, rolling onto his back with tight, earth-bruised muscles. "What?" he mutters sourly, spitting the overnight foulness from his mouth.

"Hokage wants to talk to you."

"Why?"

Sasuke watches Kakashi shrug and pulls himself into sitting, discreetly stretching arms and legs. Sleep weighs on him leaden and thick; he's woken with a headache and an odd ringing noise. The man watches Sasuke shake his head, rubbing briefly at his ears and neck before he realizes it's not quite a sound.

Sasuke isn't aware of how quickly his gaze snaps in the direction of Naruto, vaguely shocked on the edges. The fire between him and Naruto is nothing but coals; nothing but shadows and the ripple of chakra afterburning his eyes. It's different. His eyes itch and he wants to fling wide with the sharingan to see—

"She's waiting, Sasuke. Go on. Naruto's not going anywhere." Kakashi sort-of smiles when the dark-haired Uchiha slides dark, livid eyes in his direction, glaring at him.

"Did something happen?" Sasuke asks.

"Not yet. Hurry up before she passes out."

-::-

By the morning of the third day, the entire village is aware of something that lurks just beyond the village walls, elusive and impossible to pin even as it nips and crackles. The awareness comes in gradual degrees; a few people here raising their heads in instinctive attention.

Most of the villagers sensitive to chakra, shinobi and citizen alike, just don't know what it is.

Shizune, per orders, keeps it that way by instructing the Anbu to spread the word 'it was nothing, the matter is being dealt with, ignore it.'

Nervous, twitchy, the Anbu go about reassuring the clots of people in the streets; anxious mothers, white-faced elders, wide-eyed and silent children holding tight to grim fathers. Despite it all, rumors spread as quickly as the chakra flickering on the edge of vision; Naruto, off fighting with Sasuke. Naruto, training. Naruto, fucking up again.

Naruto, some say, because they know.

-::-

The boy half-stumbling, half-striding towards her is still exhausted from the sudden consummation of his chakra and stubbornly mutinous. She can see it in his shoulders with the way he sets himself down, just shy enough of proper to be insulting. She bites down on the exasperated noise and debates if she should mention that she can see the trembling in his legs perfectly fine.

"Sleep well?" she asks when he doesn't speak.

The sky lightens and the first minutes tick away. Two, three birds are singing out their morning devotions; she finally yawns and asks impatiently "Well, what did you want to know?"

His eyes flash across her in half-hidden suspicion; his jaw flexes twice before he resentfully replies "Everything."

Tsunade's mouth firms into something like a smile. "Did you know that Naruto was less than six hours old when the Yondaime sealed the spirit of the Kyuubi into him? Now, he's what you would call a jinchuuriki, a host, a container of sorts. But there's enough of a difference between human and demonic chakra that makes it difficult to just blend into someone's system; it needs to be filtered. The Yondaime's seal works very well in that regard."

She pauses long enough to allow any questions that Uchiha might have, but the boy is silent. "But it still has certain effects on a human system. Naruto gained certain abilities, as I've mentioned, as well as suffering periodic flux of chakra that made him ill at increasingly odd intervals."

Mutely, Sasuke merely listens, his eyes hidden behind the fall of dark hair; she's stiff with a gentle pity for the boy as he sits there, half awake and struggling to comprehend something she doesn't even fullly understand yet, his inability of expression.

"..but why did you…why didn't you just destroy it?"

"It took over half the village and the life of the Yondaime just to lock it up," she replies, sighing. "It was the only way to protect the village from utter desolation. The only choice this village had left Naruto with the instincts of a nine-tailed kitsune and the lethal potential to rip apart everyone and everything around us."

Sasuke waits on bent legs and iron silence, anger and mistrust and bitter aggression set aside. He doesn't speak, thoughts blind with everything she's revealing, despairing all of it and hating how it feels.

"I don't know what to do with you, Uchiha," the Hokage speaks quietly, reflectively and strangely maternal. She holds up her hands and starts to tick off her fingers. "Openly disobedient, resentful and offensive—you may have improved his condition, but that's not an excuse for your actions. You are, in a sense, responsible for putting him in this position. But—I suppose don't need to list your faults, or my own, to be disappointed in the way we handled this."

For a moment the Hokage regards him with absolutely no expression; his shoulders are stubbornly tight and straight, his hands folded over his thighs. She can read his pulse and pallor and breathing to tell he's nervous and anxious and still shielding behind defensive fury.

Maybe Kakashi was right, she thinks, studying the way his eyes remain fixed on the thick, dark mud under the leaves and roots, the tension straining and painful at his temples. Maybe he does care.

But if a child like Uchiha Sasuke does fall into that category, he certainly expressed it with all the warmth of a kunai.

But it fits, clarifies so much and despite of all the heartache this had wrought, she knows what it is to violently avoid an emotion that utterly breaks you, that cracks you into shards and pulls it piece by piece out of the middle of what you will never be again.

What it is to risk something beneath all that suffocating terror.

"Will you tell me what happened? What really happened between you and Naruto?" she asks, neutrally polite. "Because if Kakashi's right and you're in love with Naruto, then it's—"

—then it's possible you might be a catalyst to Naruto's condition, is what she intends to say but Uchiha's face is grave-white and stricken—

"—what?!" from a pale, unmoving face, eyes shocked grayish and horrified—

Tsunade sees his hands clench so hard she knows the bones will fracture in less than six minutes if he doesn't stop. She doesn't know if his reaction should surprise her; somehow it does because it's grating and painful and thinks Denial is not a good sign—and hopes she isn't wrong and unable to believe the possibility of Uchiha's actions as deliberate cruelty—

"—no," Sasuke chokes out with a fleeting expression of denial, of rage and a vast devouring sorrow. "You're wrong you're wrong—"

"Am I?" Tsunade asks without expecting an answer, snapping off her words, watching him break apart. It's been seething and condensing and she's been waiting for it, knows it has to happen. "All of the fighting, the sex, Naruto's fucked-up chakra—I'm the one who's wrong?"

"—yes!—" Sasuke's half-strangled shriek and curled-in, wounded posture states otherwise. "I'm not—"

"I'm wrong about the way you love him, after everything you've done to hurt him?!"

One single breathless gasp of noise and Sasuke recoils frozen in front of her. The expression half-hidden by his matted, dark hair is white panic-coated anguish and his whispered words are harsh and strained and hollow and she's finally snapped him in two, she knows it—

"—I had to—I had to it won't work that way it won't—if he doesn't hate me then he's more and I'll have to kill him just to…j-just to…" his hands are shaking; mouth parted and eyes hidden and she's never seen anybody in such a state of physical shock—hears one broken, keening sound choked off in the middle and a gaspy, half-hysterical—

"Itachi said I had to—"

Tsunade's faces goes colder than the rain from yesterday, hands spasming in her lap. The only thing keeping her in check is the lurking, unnatural crimson tinge and Naruto trapped within it, the only thing that motivates her to try and listen and understand what the boy was trying to say, but—

Kill him?!

She'd almost forgotten the secrets kept behind that young, unreadable face, harder to forget he's only just sixteen and still desperately trying to deny his grief. She, like everyone else, had wondered about Itachi, about the events that led to Sasuke's solitary existence, about the things that were shared between them.

Why did he tell you to kill the person that you love, is on the edge of her tongue, focused and sharp and maybe now she'll have a better idea on how to deal with him—

—but Sasuke's eyes are wrenching to Naruto—

—and Tsunade is horribly aware of feeling too old to handle the whiplash sputter and boil of red charring energy—

—and Naruto, twitching briefly in his curled-up position in the pile of muck, thin pain skimming across his face, the sheer deafening void of his chakra behind the surging furious red. Something more terrible than the malevolent red chakra skims across her senses, stopping her heart and lungs in horror with the knowledge his body, no, his heart was giving out—

—and before she's realized she's moving, Tsunade's jumping the wards and ignoring ether-red chakra and its oily mist on her mind—not this anything but this—stumbling to half-fall over Naruto and wrench him onto his back with her right hand. Reddish glop smears down his chest and arm; his left is still half-immersed.

Numb, voiceless thoughts with a hand to his chest, disregarding the stinging, crackling chakra whipping around her, the Hokage calls up every ounce of straining control and power and presses it to Naruto's chest.

—sharp searing pain in the center of his chest, sharp too sharp so much breath-stealing pain—

Desperate, grieving, she pours as much chakra into his depleted system, as much as he can take, praying it will be enough. Praying he'll live. As much as she has, anything to keep the rain-drop beat of his heart going.

If she fails, oh god if she fails him—

"Tsunade!" comes Kakashi's confused, panicking question, coming closer. He must have felt the absence of Naruto's intangible signature as keenly as dropping off a cliff—

—barely enough awareness for Sasuke's unrelenting white-coated shock; she's sure he can feel it too but doesn't have time to worry about the way he could react—

It's all she can do, all she can give, to keep Naruto's heart beating. Pouring supporting chakra, healing as much of the chakra-burned pathways as she can, unable to spare attention to see what Kakashi and her old team-member could be doing in response to this situation. She just empties out into Naruto, into drained depths she didn't know he was made of, empties out until the blue of the Hundred Seal spreads across her skin.

Such stamina, indeed, to store all that excess energy and channel it, too…

Tsunade sets her teeth and ignores the foolish despair, stubbornly ignores the prick of tears, the tightness spreading from her chest to her throat.

Live damn you, you have to live—

The response she gleans is not expected, almost missed in her concentration The heart thuds once—the first time in nearly a minute—twice under her hands.

The voice is unmistakable.

"…do you think I am dying?" a mocking, weary rasp, a liquid rumble of amusement. "Hardly."

—thu-thud—

The chakra reflux under her hands is boiling, magma-black and burning, snapping, as she recoils away from it in shock. Choking on her air, she jerks her hands away from Naruto and just barely keeps from fleeing from it altogether.

The eye peering at her from the crack of Naruto's lashes is as crimson as the chakra that slugs out from the center of the seal.

"You receive no thanks for keeping the stupid one alive," the demon murmurs irritably with Naruto's voice tainted darker. Naruto's face is half-covered with the strange glop he's curled around, but it's the fox's will that opens the mouth and ingests a mouthful. Naruto's eyes, slit crimson force peering out at her and somehow, within it all, absently imagining how to bite her into pieces.

"…what have you done?" Tsunade whimpers, breathless.

"Hnnn….it's obvious, I should think. But then all ofyou pathetic things are stupid." Another mouthful, tongue over lips and then hands flexing slowly. The irritation and boredom shifts to sly amusement. "Wasn't it fun? I had so much enjoyment watching you struggle."

"You've consumed him," Tsunade shakes, feeling old and frail despite the appearance. "Why? Just to find an exit? For what purpose?"

"Consumed him?" the voice turns sour and insulted. "Oh, yes, that's exactly what I have done," the crimson slit-pupil eye narrows and she wants to strike him—it—as hard as her waning strength will allow. "You should be thanking me that my cage still breathes, you mewling slug."

"Don't you mock me when this is still your fault! What have you done to him, you sniveling, furless rat?"

"My fault?" Naruto's face in a grimace of a grin. "I've done nothing, hag. I did not choose this. Remove the seal and be rid of me, then. He'll recover quite nicely."

"You'll have to try harder than that," Tsunade mutters, twisting her hands together. "Answer me. What did you do?"

"Hnnn." She endures the moment where the creature chuckles dark and thickly before answering. "What are we but energy and chemicals? I have no time to spare on details. Wouldn't tell you anyway, decrepit one." A broad slather-swipe of the tongue over the misshapen lump that Naruto's body created and curled over. "I only watched."

"Damn you—" she snarls, voice nearly breaking. "He could still die and I want some answers!"

"…I'd like some quiet, you loud bitch, but I've no patience to shut you up. Tell the stupid brat I won't save his ass next time. He's on his own. He'll know how." A second swipe, a brief nosing against the substance and a quick malcontent grin on Naruto's face. "The idiot shouldn't use it up all at once or he'll end up killing himself. What would you dirty little apes do then, hmmm?"

And then, as she watches the beast with a human face make one final swipe, it clicks into place.

It takes the last of her strength to breathe. She can't move. It's impossible.

The Kyuubi-red fades with one last, mocking delighted-snarl laugh in witness to her expression, and Naruto exhales, eyes that fade to blue fluttering shut.

It isn't possible. Not humanly possible…

The lump of substance moves, bleats into a wail and it just…isn't…

It couldn't be.

The infant under Naruto's arm hitches and struggles to breath and cries out again.

-::-

Sasuke isn't close enough to hear the words from Naruto's mouth, but his vision is sharp enough to see the blazing crimson eyes set in Naruto's face, the mocking razor-wide smile that—Kyuubi—is that the Kyuubi?—gives to the Hokage sitting on her wards, afraid and shaking and holding her ground. Sasuke can't feel his legs from where he sits, overwhelmed with trembling panic under the absent awareness of this creature in Naruto's body—

Naruto, who lived-smiled-mocked-challenged him—the sound of a voice that resonates too large for awareness, a dark and heavy presence to his ears—

"Damn you—" comes Tsunade's angry snarl. "He could still die and I want some answers!"

Jiraiya's rough, unheard whisper "Tsunade-hime!"

Naruto, always alone, always caught with this beast—

Sasuke doesn't know what to think about what could be happening to Naruto, doesn't even know what's happening now—

189 days and I still don't know—

Sasuke's hands clench on his lap, white in mute testament to the suffocating, despairing rage cracking his spine. He's barely aware of Naruto's mouth smeared with some reddish fluid, of Naruto swallowing, his gaze is caught by the way the grin is large and too sharp for the face and the situation, worried and thinking —it doesn't bother me that it was you and wants to scream because he couldn't—didn't want to—wouldn't—

A sudden, irrational unexpected horror at the sound of something, a wail, a sound that squeezes pain through his middle, sure that it was his sound ripped from somewhere dark in him, made audible.

"—How the hell?!" Tsunade's breathless, stunned cry.

Is Naruto making that noise?

In the corner of Sasuke's vision and stilted aftershock of confusion, Jiraiya slugs the sake bottle dry without answering.

—no, it's not—

Moments are reduced to brief snaps of memory.

Tsunade lifting something from the muck—black, thick mud dripping from her hands—spattered on Naruto's now-unconscious face—keenly aware of the way Naruto's throat still thrums with a struggling pulse. The rain-damp seeping from the ground. His toes are cold.

The thud of pressure in his ears, the overwhelming cold ratcheting down his sides and middle and back. Hands clenched so hard the dry, creaking sound is what tiny rips in the muscle must sound like—

—Something small and mud-slimy placed on Tsunade's lap and Sasuke couldn't breathe—everything's cold—

He isn't aware of it, but Kakashi waits beside him a respectful distance away because Sasuke's eyes are bleeding into sharingan. Naruto, fallen on his side, so limp and pale, engraving into his memory like acid. The effort it took just to keep his eyes open and not anywhere else—No—

Tsunade's hand sweeps away part of the wards that sprawl across the ground. "Shizune, here, take it—I need to continue with Naruto—"

Naruto, limp and pale and silent—

—no, a part of him denies. No way no it can't be not possible no no can't be possible—

But his eyes are keen to pick out the individual strands in each stitch of Shizune's clothing, the bundled, mud-smeared mass with a surprising shock of black hair and a wrinkled, wailing face, smeared with something too close to blood to sit well with Sasuke—

—keen enough to fracture everything when it—he? she?—it gulps and wails for acknowledgment.

—no NO it's not fair it's not possible it's not—it's not—you stupid bastard dobe, you—Everything blurs, loosens and reddens, pieces gone before he forgets them because he knows he knows what this means, what this is.

—you always ruin everything—

-::-

Kakashi is quick enough to catch Sasuke's slumping form before he goes face first into the mud; the man mutters a curse as he supports the limp, shaking form with one arm, sheathing his blade with one quick motion. "Easy now, Sasuke."

Sasuke only shudders in his arms, eyes wide and blank with the sharingan, arms crossing in front from some instinctive defense mechanism, legs tensing in a miniscule effort to get back. Breathes in shallow, rasping sucks of air.

"Kakashi? What's going on?" Tsunade calls, too focused on keeping her exhausted chakra seeping into Naruto's body to look up.

"It's a bit hard to explain," Kakashi replies carefully. "But I don't think Sasuke's reacting to this very well—"

But the boy's aware enough to push suddenly at Kakashi's grip; Sasuke eels out and away, scooting backwards on his hands and ass, head down, heels scraping up muddy clumps of leaves and moss. After a second, he overbalances on the way to standing and sinks a knee in the mud, sways with a light, papery noise.

"Leave him," Tsunade murmurs warningly when Kakashi crouches to rise. "We don't have time."

Kakashi watches his student's head flinch towards the village—away from Naruto, the man thinks—watches how he pulls himself upright, how Sasuke starts to walk away with eerie, stumbling grace. Kakashi bites down on the urge to call after him and glances to the small wriggling thing that Shizune is wiping clean, her eyes darting fearful, awed glances to the infant. This would definitely make things interesting.

Once you're ready to face it, he amends silently.

"Well, I'll be a toasted toad," Jiraiya mutters. "Guess that explains it."

"Should've seen this coming," Tsunade replies more to herself. "All the signs were there, and it slipped in right under my nose…Dammit, how did I miss this?"

"Now what?" Kakashi says, meaning everything.

"I'll need to you tell Tsukamoto to stand down," Tsunade wipes mud from Naruto's face, still shaking from the too-close memory of Naruto's heart faltering under the strain of so much chakra, the struggle to keep him alive. "For now, we keep this quiet until I figure out what to tell the council. If we tell them. Kakashi, trail after Uchiha and make sure he doesn't pass out somewhere. At a safe distance, mind you—then prepare Naruto's room for—for this."

I'm too old for this, she thinks, wanting to weep with relief and confusion. But he's alive, everyone's alive and now…

Now, maybe Naruto would have his hands full and stop sending her to bed sleepless with worry.

"At least it's not a fox," Jiraiya mutters, belching softly. "Who wants to toast the new baby?"

"Goddammit!" Tsunade flings a clump of muck at him. "Get over here and help me, you dirty old coot!"

-::-

On the evening of the third day, within an hour of the collapse of the red-tainted chakra, Tsukamoto turns his head from a briefing with two jounin to hear a scuffle on the shadowed length of wall some fifteen yards away. Immediately, he holds a hand to quell any movement.

Uchiha Sasuke stumbles away from them, leaning heavily against the shoulder-high retaining wall. Tsukamoto can't tell if Uchiha was injured or not, but something in the set of his spine was…stricken. Regardless, he keeps his distance on some inner warning. There might be nothing wrong with Uchiha Sasuke, but Tsukamoto isn't sure he wants to risk approaching.

After moments of just standing there, one hand curled against the wall for balance, the Uchiha descends from sight along a set of stairs with slow, wounded steps, and ten minutes later, Kakashi is along with orders to stand-down the high-alert patrolling. Tsukamoto thinks no more of it.

Within a week, he'd receive forty-seven different reports of sightings and hauntings and genjutsu traps laid out over the general vicinity of the Uchiha district.

-::-

Naruto doesn't remember waking the first time. It isn't really awareness, but the shockwave of the last three days has drawn almost all Tsunade's strength; she doesn't notice the way Naruto's fingers twitch.

A knock on the door distracts her.

"Mm…yes?" Tsunade asks, turning her head while rubbing away the tension lingering there.

"Tsunade-sama," Shizune stage-whispers, standing there, fractionally leaning against the door. Tsunade can see the echoing weariness in the set of her jaw and shoulders, the shaking of the protective grasp on the bundle against her middle. "The…the, um…Naruto's…" and pauses after a moment, unsure as a white-clad med-nin nurse bustled by.

Tsunade rose to stand close, gesturing her inside. "Were there any abnormalities?"

"It's—he's small, but well-formed. The chakra pathways are more developed than a five-year-old, but he has all the proper organs in all the proper places, ten fingers and toes." Shizune takes a slow, baffled moment to inhale. "He's just a child, two months mature and only a day or so born. Tsunade-sama, I—I don't— how is it even possible?"

"Interesting, isn't it?" Tsunade replies blandly. "Combining energy and chemicals—proteins and nutrients and everything that a normal, human female would provide…and the energy to fuel growth…Such a thing created with only chakra and make-shift protein shake to sustain it. Impressive, even for a jinchuuriki."

Shizune doesn't speak; there are no words that contain the fact it wasn't possible in human measures.

"What news about Naruto?" Tsunade asks, eyes straying to the pale, motionless boy propped up on a hospital pillow. "Have the doctors determined if the damage is lasting?"

"I haven't heard anything that we don't already know. His chakra's reached the halfway point of recovery, though some areas of his hands and arms are still damaged from the channeling. The doctors can't say when he'll recover and wake, but he's responding."

"Good. Good," Tsunade turns her head to Shizune, relief and worry mixing in her expression. She's only a step or two away; Tsunade reaches out and pulls her into a brief, clutching hug. "Shizune. You did well. Take the child to the Tower; I'll be by in a bit to see when to start another bottle. Discretely, please."

"You're still not going to tell the council what happened, are you?" Shizune pauses to assess her teacher still at arms-length. "Alright, if you think it's best." She nods, and is gone in the moment before Tsunade can nod back. For a long three minutes, she finds herself at the window, thoughts in turmoil as she takes in the familiar, heart-ache view of Konoha.

Things weren't meant to be this way. Naruto should be a happy, carefree young man. No demons, no problems, no instability.

Uchiha should've had a family, not the broken, hollow pain his brother left behind. That soulless fool shows up in my village, I'll kill him myself, she thinks in grief and rage for all that Uchiha Itachi had stolen. She feels too old and confused by everything, by the possibilities and Uchiha's knee-jerk reaction, confused by the tired knowledge of why Sasuke was terrified enough to hide it, hide everything...

There was too much she hadn't seen, hadn't stopped, hadn't treated carefully—

Lots of what-ifs on this one, she tells herself harshly. What-ifs never change what is.

Somehow, Naruto had given Uchiha Sasuke a child.

It makes everything ache, the possibilities, drowned with the dangerous likelihood of Uchiha's reaction to this extraordinary development.

Naruto, by coincidence or luck, takes this moment to roll his head slowly on the pillow, eyes cracking to show dull, bloodshot blue, staring at some spot on the wall. It's only been four minutes since Shizune left, and Tsunade doesn't notice the movement.

Maybe he'll finally grow up and stop acting like a spoiled bitch, she's musing when something blips; Tsunade turns her head to see Naruto pulling himself up with the grace of an old man, hunching over until his chin nearly pokes into his chest. Shock rippled through her, as another machine shrills out an alarm.

She wants him awake but this is too soon—!

Eyes fixed on the same spot, vaguely focused, Naruto leans for the edge of the bed. By all appearances, he's perfectly fine with smacking face-first into the floor with whatever motivation spurs him on. His eyes are fixed in an unblinking stare at some vague point.

Shizune, she thinks as her eyes instinctively track his line of sight past the wall and through the window. Shizune's in that direction; the child…The tower was in that direction, and through her exasperation she pulls apart Shizune's summon cord.

Damn it all, what other surprise instincts do you have up your sleeve?

Shizune poohfs back into the room just as Naruto tumbles off the bed and rolls, landing on his front. He grunts, half asleep and Shizune raises the baby to her chest.

"What happened?"

Smothering the grin from her voice, Tsunade comments, "Seems we shouldn't separate them. He woke up the moment you were far enough away."

"We'll have to take him to the tower, won't we? Is it safe enough? What are we going to do, Tsunade-sama, with this hidden away? What if it's dangerous?"

"It's a child," Tsunade reminds her, gently. "Naruto's child, thus made through a type of jutsu. Do we kill it and expect him to understand?" a pause, and in a voice so delicate Shizune has to strain to hear it, she murmurs "Do we take away what little family Uchiha has left?"

-::-

Naruto dreams of fields and skies and trees before finally waking to the afternoon light in the room of the tower. He is sore and unable to move his heavy limbs, or even turn his head more than a few degrees without feeling dizzy. But this isn't my apartment…oh, that's right, I was...

Confused, blinking grainy vision, Naruto sees the Hokage seated at a desk in its makeshift spot near the window. She hasn't noticed him, and actually seems to be doing some work. What happened? Why do I feel so weird? What happened?! he thinks, tries to speak and croaks just loud enough to be heard.

Glancing up, Tsunade turns his way, a moment's hesitation in her relief. She rises and goes all the way to the side of the bed before speaking. "How do you feel, Naruto? I'm glad to see you awake."

"Guh," Naruto rasps, swallowing. "Whhrr…" he tries again, voiceless. Tsunade tips a cup over his mouth and Naruto manages a swallow of cold water. The liquid cramps his stomach, slides down his cheek and neck as he does it again despite it all.

"Where…?" Naruto finally asks hoarsely. It's my other room…but wasn't I…wasn't Sasuke here?

"I moved my desk in here to keep an eye on you," Tsunade tells him after shoving a pillow down behind Naruto to prop him up, folding hands in her lap. Naruto can't understand why she looks so tired and haggard, so worried.

"s'what happened?" he whispers, acutely aware of how shitty he feels just trying to talk. Exhausted and sore and inexplicably heavy. Did I sleep for a week?

"How about you tell me what happened with Sasuke, first."

"Huh?" Naruto coughs, frowning in the uneasy awareness that she knew about Sasuke showing up in the tower—what, yesterday? "I was...it was a dream, though."

No, no it wasn't, something tells him, under the niggling sense of something darker, something redder…

"What happened with Sasuke, in your...dream?" Tsunade tries again, patiently.

"Asshole tried to kill me," Naruto mutters, trailing off with eyes narrow against the pain that goes with it. "Then he chickened out."

"He actually tried to…" and Tsunade's face goes through a series of expressions from anger to worry to recognition and finally irritation. "Does he even—" she stops to regroup and watches him strangely before completely changing the end of her question. "Then what happened?"

Naruto rolls his eyes and gathers enough energy for a tired scowl. "Then we talked."

Tsunade tilts her head to give him a don't bullshit me look that sticks him right down the middle and Naruto stubbornly ignores the heat creeping behind his ears. "Was that before or after the sex-part and leaving Sasuke alone and naked in your bed?"

"Huh?" Naruto twists his head to face her, works his mouth for words that don't begin right away. He's somewhat unnerved by the memory of pale flesh and shadowed skin that flashes through his head, of the seething sense of some strange chakra dream. "We didn't—I don't remember—wait, what? I left?! Where did I go?"

"Don't you remember what happened?"

"…no," Naruto slides his eyes back to the ceiling because somehow, it'll be better if he isn't looking at her, mind sinking behind flashes of pain ripping through him. "Not…really."

"I wish it was something simple to explain," Tsunade begins in the voice Naruto recognizes as Authority. "But it's not. You've got instincts unlike anyone else in this village; of course, you know why. That mud, by the way, came from the den you dug out in the forest—"

"—are you serious?!"

"—where you took all the chakra you were storing up, somehow—"

"S-Storing chakra?!" Naruto strangles out, his grip on the bedsheet white-knuckled and numb. "But why?"

"That's not so easy to explain," Tsunade replies. "By the way, your demon says that he won't save your ass next time, because you should know better than to use it all at once."

"What?!" Naruto screeches. "Kyuubi said—!? What the fuck happened? Why? He's not, he didn't—I mean, I'm not—"

"Naruto," the Hokage calls his name to grab his focus and calm him down. When he slides his wide, stunned eyes to her face, she continues. "I'm certain that your seal is in no danger from whatever happens to your chakra. It was, as I told you earlier, a form of instinct you had no control over. For the last four, five months—from the first time you got your hands on Sasuke—you've been storing up your chakra because of it. Kakashi thinks you were using the crystal in your necklace as some sort of chakra-dump."

"…that's why? That's it?"

"Not quite. You were trying to store more than you could produce, which is why you slept so much. You stole Sasuke's chakra, too, which is why you conveniently 'got better' with him around. You took everything you had and more, and ended up out in the forest."

"I was stealing…" Naruto feels it click into place and wonders at the way it doesn't seem to bother him. I don't remember going out there. I don't remember getting mud everywhere. I don't remember stealing the food—It makes too much sense. "You still haven't told me why. Or don't you know why?"

"Oh, I know why it happened," Tsunade replies with a strange hint of a smile. "It was…unavoidable. Tell me, Naruto. What's the ultimate purpose for a mating drive?"

"Uh," Naruto blushes lightly. "Lots of sex?"

"Not completely, but you're close. Try reproduction."

"…like babies," Naruto replies slowly. "So, I was trying to have babies—wait…that's not funny 'cause I'm not a girl, old lady. I can't have babies."

"What do you mean, it isn't funny?" Tsunade's expression sours in annoyance. "Your fox thought it was the best entertainment ever."

"It's…I–I don't—" Naruto's face is devoid of its former blush; his eyes have darkened to a distressed grayish blue, but Tsunade isn't surprised. Shock is to be expected. One breath. A second.

"Did I?" is what finally leaks out of Naruto's mouth. "Did I—did I make a baby?!"

"You have a son, Naruto," Tsunade speaks formally, her tone both tired and amused. Amazingly, she grins briefly at him. "Would you like to see him?"

Stunned, Naruto tries to speak something that comes out as a stricken noise. It takes Tsunade only moments to rise from the bed and bend over the small crib tucked in the corner. Naruto hadn't even noticed it.

Naruto's hands tear through sheets and down to the mattress and something spasms inside too tightly to swallow about when she lifts something and turns. It can't be true. Things like this just don't happen. He can't help the flinch when she settles next to him any more than the immediate response to try to sit up and look—

Tsunade hefts him up from the pillows with her free arm, settling on the edge and half-hugging Naruto to keep him upright.

…mine? he thinks, echoing, suffocated when he sees pink skin and one tiny, waving fist. Murky gray eyes blink at him owlishly from a squished-looking face—this is mine—and such wispy dark hair that Naruto knows instantly this was something undeniably altering.

"Are you sure?" he asks weakly, knowing what she'll say. It's mine from the depths of everything, strong and certain, even though this was Sasuke's child. It was. He knows it. "How? I'm not a girl! I didn't—I don't know how I—"

His heart's thudding like it did during battle, or taunting Sasuke and getting him mad. Oh god. First the months of not knowing what the fuck was wrong and now—

Now this—

—does this make me a freak?!

This with Sasuke—

"You did something very strange," Tsunade is saying. "There are theories, you know, about sustaining or creating life without a physical body, but no one human has the knowledge or the power to do it." She pauses, and Naruto drags his stinging eyes away from sight of the baby—his son—trying to suck on fingers that wouldn't bend right, yet.

"You did both. You made this child from raw chakra and some sort of goop you threw together. You pilfered a bunch of food and mixed it with dirt and god knows what else; it served as a nutrient base, and…all your stored-up chakra that you used. You probably should've used more." She makes a gesture over the child. "Three days later, you have a baby. Jiraiya seems to think that some demons procreate at will, and I suppose these instincts are your inheritance."

"But I don't know shit about babies!" Naruto protests. "I don't even know how I—how I—how am I supposed to do this?"

What do I tell people? What does Sasuke think? I can't train with a baby—where the hell is Sasuke?

"Babies aren't complicated, just tedious," Tsunade uses the low, reassuring voice she's only ever had to use on new mothers. "Do you want to hold your son? Maybe welcome him to the family?"

My son. My family. The words strike the deepest scars that Naruto tries to ignore—if this is real—family, so long and finally—he reaches out a fingertip and feathers a touch over the tiny, grasping hand, the fluffy tufts of dark-inky hair and eyes that stare unfocused in his direction—unaware of the way his jaw is clenched and locking back his breath, the way his hand shakes when he presses one pudgy cheek.

"I-I really made him?"

My family—Sasuke's son he thinks under the confusing sweep of anger and indignation. Anger because it's Sasuke, because this wasn't supposed to be like this, with the demon and Sasuke and now this, now this—he wants to ask about Sasuke, where the hell was the bastard and why he wasn't here to see—

"That's right."

My child MY CHILD, bright and fierce and wildly grieving. No one can take this. No one will ever hurt this—he wouldn't ever let them because he knows that now, now, he'll kill everyone if he had to, just to keep this strange, wriggling small thing safe.

Naruto isn't aware of the evidence twisting his face into something between hungry need and fear and watching, Tsunade doesn't know how to comfort him in this situation except to wordlessly gesture with the baby.

"H-How?" Naruto rasps, swiping a forearm across his face.

"Here. Like this. You'll have to support his head; he's not strong enough yet."

Naruto eases cautious hands that twitch with nerves under the light fabric, almost dizzy with the effort of raising something more solid than he'd expected. The tiny, frail neck fits neatly into his shaking, cupped palm; Naruto supports the curled-up legs and lower half with the thought—he kinda looks like a frog, all bent up like that—and darts a glance to Tsunade out of thinly-disguised panic.

"He's so tiny," Naruto whispers. "That's…that's okay, right? He's normal, right?"

"He's perfectly normal, Naruto."

Tsunade catches the wild, heart-breaking flash of blue when Naruto's head lifts sharply and he looks at her to see all the unspoken words behind her gentle smile.

Normal. Normal, not like me, not alone and afraid and hated—not alone 'cause he's got me—

His vision blurs; he's mildly grateful the baby's on his lap because his hands are shaking too much to hold it. Grits his teeth and swipes an arm over his face to hide the spasm of painful relief—

He's got me and Sasuke and – and he'll never have to be alone—

On the next breath he sobs harshly, tensing under Tsunade's arms. She pulls him close and strokes his hair as he collides through his heartbreak. The baby waits between them, and she doesn't miss the way Naruto's hand touches briefly at face and nose and chin even though his grief.

Later, Naruto snuffles and clears his throat to mutter, "W-what about Sasuke?"

"Mmm…That's harder to explain," Tsunade replies slowly, cautiously as Naruto scrubs his face clear of snot and tears. His eyes have cleared; she's not surprised at the way he's accepted it and moved past it to the meaning of what happens now.

"Where's the bastard, anyway? Does…does he…"

"He knows. I'm pretty sure he knows."

"Then—then why isn't he here?"

"Naruto…" Tsuande replies even slower, warily. "I'd like nothing more to tell you that Sasuke'll be here with flowers and cigars and planning a celebration…but I don't know if he can. He's…you didn't see what happened while you were busy…you…I mean…"

Naruto watches her struggle to find the words, her attempt at making sense falling into that strange awkwardness people got when trying to break bad news gently. "Did he freak out or something?"

Tsunade sighs so deeply he feels disorientated; he's never seen her look so tired and helpless. "You could say he's upset—but I just…I just don't know. He's…damaged." She can't tell Naruto about the legacy Itachi's left behind for Sasuke because it isn't her place. She doesn't have the words for it. Softly, exasperated, she shrugs. "You'll just have to talk to him, but first, we need to discuss a few things like apartments and baby-care."

"I gotta move, too?"

"We'll start with diaper-changing, I think..."

"…okay now you're kidding, right?"

-::-

It's late when Naruto finally lifts his head from his arms on the windowsill, the cool breeze light against his face. Two days. He had slept most of yesterday away, waking in a panic to a sobbing wail at some ungodly hour of the night, heart thudding so hard he had forgotten where he was. A moment later Tsunade had walked in, shushing and rocking at the fretting baby, a bottle in hand.

2:37 a.m., he had fed his son for the first time; quietly cried a little after Tsunade had left with a sleepy "Change his diaper when you're done."

Today, she is gone and Naruto hasn't moved from the window for nearly an hour.

He's already decided that Sasuke has to name it since Naruto did all the work, but he has no idea when Sasuke will be around and he's gotta call it something. A few hours later, watching him kick and squirm, he decides on a nickname based on appearance. Now, the tadpole is sleeping the deep, boneless sleep of the very young. Naruto hasn't ever seen something so small and still, so unavoidably there—

But Sasuke still hasn't come, and Naruto fights back bitter, hurting resentment, the angry urge to do something. Naruto is keenly aware that it won't be easy without Sasuke. He accepts it mostly because of Sasuke's strength, but his part in this as well. It's all Sasuke's fault.

Sasuke should damn well be here.

Tomorrow, then, Naruto thinks, twisting his hands together, mouth thin and firm and stubbornly ignoring the nervousness. Ignoring that he's worried and needing and calling it hate; it couldn't be anything else.

Tomorrow.

-::-

Naruto makes the decision to leave the child with Tsunade, against the tugging anxiety of leaving it behind. Having him present at the confrontation with Sasuke would be worse, but there's a part of him that crawls in needling anxiety with every step he takes. Still, Naruto leaves the Tower at seven am, with five hours of sleep under his belt.

Like before, Naruto leaves with no one aware of his departure.

It takes him nearly an hour to walk most of the way to where Sasuke's house is, stubborn resolve forcing him on even as he worries at the knot that Sasuke is to him.

This might go badly. It could go badly.

It will, Naruto knows. Because nothing is ever easy with Sasuke.

To prepare himself, Naruto spends uncounted time sitting on the nearest bridge with his legs over the side, his face pressed against the rail. His eyes are half shut and tranced by the flow of water; shivering despite the mild temperature, he's unaware of the echoing footsteps until voices call out.

"Naruto!"

"Hey, Naruto, long time no see?"

"Where've you been, fart-face? We heard you were sick and Shikamaru's being an ass and won't tell us anything—"

Startled, Naruto looks up and over to see quite a few people standing behind him. Something lurches at the sight of Ino clutching Sakura with that hateful, nervous distance, Shikamaru and Chouji and Kiba, grinning. Neji, standing solemn beside it all, watching him closely.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, we haven't seen you since, uh, the last time we visited…" Chouji's word drizzled to a stop, uncomfortable.

"Uh…I've gotten better…I—" Naruto staggers to his feet. "Uh…sorta. What are you guys up to?"

"We're going to see if the rumors are true! You wanna come to check out Sasuke's place, too?" Kiba scratches behind his ear, grinning.

"What?" Naruto's voice is sharp; he focuses on Kiba and is less than a step away from him in moments. "What about Sasuke? What do you mean? What happened?"

"Uh," Kiba blinks at him. "You must've been sick if you haven't heard."

"People have been seeing ghosts," Chouji adds. "We're going to see if it's true. You should come too, just in case Sasuke's gone crazy."

"Yeah. Fuck. Yeah, I'm coming," Naruto mutters, and before anyone could stop him, he turns and walks in the direction of the compound gates standing wide, tall and dusty half a mile away.

-::-

For the third time in as many weeks, Kakashi feels the jangle of chakra pulse through the bracelet, sighs and scratches at his head and instantly transports himself to the Hokage's side.

"Let me guess…Sasuke, this time?" he murmurs blandly, upon entry.

She looks at him in mild surprise before smirking, tinged with sadness. "Correct. It seems to be worse than we thought. I've got several reports here stating there's a genjutsu over the entire Uchiha compound…and Naruto left the squirt behind and ran off to find Sasuke."

"Yeah, about that…I went and looked…" Kakashi replies grimly. "It's not pleasant. He's managed to reflect the effects he's suffered from the tsukuyomi through the sharingan. I don't think he's aware of it, since he hasn't left his house." He pauses thoughtfully. "Although, it'd be a great opportunity to actually see what happened—"

"Kakashi!" Tsunade exclaims, appalled.

"You're right, of course. I'll wait until I make sure they're finished inflicting bodily harm—"

"Get over there before I have your ass fired!"

-::-

The sky darkens into an eerie twilight, storm-light without the storm, the closer they get to the massive gateway. They all pause at the entrance of the compound, no one speaking at the sight of shadows beyond, shadows that exist only after sunset and flickering on the edge of vision.

Naruto, alone, stands within touching distance of the open gates.

"What the fuck," Kiba breathes. "This is messed up. I don't think I want to go in there, anymore."

"But…S-Sasuke's in there, and no one's seen him for-for a week…" Sakura, foolish with anxiety, breaks into a half-speed run past Naruto and through the gateway. Naruto's eyes follow her in astonishment, too startled to call out.

Behind them, Ino takes a step out of competitive reflex and Shikamaru grabs her by the arm to stop her; his narrow eyes are focused on Sakura, slowing to a stop twenty steps in.

"Shit," Kiba mutters. "Lookit her face—"

Naruto watches how she stumbles to a stop, faltering; he is the only one to truly see the way her hands rise to cover her horror. He might be the only one to fully understand the depths of it. Still, he steps forward without hesitation because the decision is already made. It doesn't matter what he will see.

"Stay here."

"What? Where are you—"

"—of course he's crazy enough to follow—"

At first, nothing seems out of place just walking forward—he gives himself a measure of hope, but he knows he hasn't reached Sakura, yet, and what she might be seeing.

A splash of color catches his eye halfway there; his glance is automatic. Blood, too much—so much—streaked across the low retaining wall. Naruto catches himself before he stumbles, eyes wide, the blood already fading from sight.

What the hell is going on, Sasuke? What is this?

In the next breath, the blood returns and it's over everything, splashes and smears and dripping gory piles—he can see the bodies when he gets closer to his teammate, allows the unique, macabre genjutsu to stop him next to Sakura.

The girl jumps with a swallowed cry, eyes wide and shining with her tears; she's standing there and slowly turns to look at him, as if dreaming.

"Go back," Naruto tells her in a whisper.

"All the children," comes her tremulous, numb reply. "All of—of everyone—"

"Go," Naruto says with a touch more force, gingerly touches her shoulder and doesn't tell her that he doesn't want anyone around for this. Not even her.

At his touch, Sakura jerks her head in something like a nod, and Naruto doesn't watch her leave. He's too busy fighting back adrenaline tight in his throat.

There are bodies everywhere, all kinds and all dead, nestled along buildings and gutters and sprawled in the road, dead mid-flight. Even though Naruto knows it's an illusion, one of the best he's ever been victim too—

It's too real, and Naruto has to force himself to walk past the crumpled body of a plain middle-aged woman who had a slash from breastbone to hips; she died trying to hold the slimy mass of organs to her belly.

It's not real, he tells himself over and over. Not real not real—it's gotta be Sasuke's fault—

It's not really there, fuck, keep going—and walks, ignoring the ghostly echoes of screams and deathcries, harder to the sharp cut-off to the sound of a small child shrieking, but he does. Around him, slumped corpses and running blood that flickers in and out of view. An entire district, dead, slaughtered even trying to flee—

These were Sasuke's people, his family and clan slain and preserved in the streets, this was his knowledge and nightmarish memory of a massacre two hours after sunset. Naruto doesn't know how Sasuke knows, how he's even doing this—

—thinks in possessive rage what did that bastard Itachi do to him?!

Naruto stumbles away from the fading afterimage of a man's partial torso, the spine jutting like a stick from the jagged-meat end. I can't go any farther he thinks I can't—I have to—

But is this —

Naruto breaks into a run and takes the corners on instinct, eyes wide and trying hard to ignore the blood and gobbets of flesh and bodies around him—he's breathing hard and half-sobbing when he staggers to a stop just outside of Sasuke's home, the genjutsu leaving a thorny headache behind his eyes.

"Fuck," he mutters to himself, shuddering and smearing his wrist over his face. He takes a breath and stares the dark, dilapidated structure. There is a trail of smeared blood down the porch stairs, something dragged to a vague end two feet in front of him.

Naruto's back is cold and tight with some odd feeling too close to fear; his hands fist tightly and he feels nothing hit his legs when he wades through blood. Flinches motionless when something shrieks nearby—

—not Sasuke—a woman, cut off mid-point then a second, short gargle that wrenches ice into his middle—but not Sasuke—just an illusion. He has to keep walking.

Taking the steps, he hears the thud of weapons impacting on wood, the schting ricochet off stone, manages to ignore it when he doesn't see any weapons. Before the door, he pauses, struck by the disconcerting sense of the morning sun behind him and the windows reflecting a hint of moonlight.

Come on, Sasuke, he's thinking dimly, hand stretching out and sure his fingers will come away bloody. Come on, you fucking coward, face me!

Naruto twists the knob, pushing it open and hears it creak to a stop halfway open. Naruto waits, eyes too wide to be brave in a pale face, because the house is dark and silent and there isn't any Sasuke hiding there, ready to attack with weapons or fists or traps, his heart thudding as if he was.

I'm not gonna let you run away from this!

With the utmost caution, the blond squeezes inside and quietly shuts the door behind him. There is no illusion-blood inside the house, yet; nothing but dust and the stray cobweb. It looks like just an empty house, but he can feel Sasuke somewhere, vaguely, behind it all.

On silent, lagging feet, Naruto turns with aimless direction, trailing the engulfing thoughts of what he was doing here, of what he thought of Sasuke and of all the death outside because of Sasuke, of all the stupid pain he's caused and everything they had—

Knows without question that Sasuke has to be there. Something demands it for the sake of what Naruto's freak inheritance had given them—

"—move…move…move—"

The whisper and a flicker of motion stops him at the side of a large sliding door, his skin prickling to see a young petrified Sasuke telling himself to move with trembling hands about to open the door in front of him—

—watches it fade, thinking, Sasuke's in that room and he's fucking crazy—

—and I have to do something—

Naruto pushes open the door to a dark room slashed with red-tinged moonlight, sees the two slumped bodies and pale skin with dark hair and gags on the word Sasuke! and watches it disappear with shadows over the mono.

His mother, goddammit, his mother, right in front of him—

"Hey! Sasuke!" he's screaming without quite knowing why, voice cracking in the middle. "Where are you, you bastard?"

A rasp of indrawn breath in the silence; something tings to the floor moments later.

"Why are you here, do-be? And what," the blond hears the sound echoing out of the shadows, unable to pinpoint Sasuke's location. "…could you possibly want now?"

"I want to know what the hell is going on!"

"That's it? Get the fuck out of my house."

"What?! I'm not leaving until I get some answers, asshole—and fuck you too!" Naruto shreds the darkness with his eyes for any hint of Sasuke, bristling with fury. "You think you can pull this shit without leaving me some answers? Where are you? I didn't fuck you for nothing, you spineless bitch—"

Shuriken whiz across his vision but Naruto ducks, expecting them, dodging the lethal knuckles of Sasuke's fist aimed for his throat. Sasuke catches him by the shirt and wrenches him away and into the wall; Naruto retaliates with a fist across the jaw on the rebound.

"—so turn off your fucked-up genjutsu and stop running away—" and Naruto takes the two cracking blows on his cheek as Sasuke snarls high in his throat—

"What genjutsu—what fuck are you talking about? What would you know—?!" as Sasuke grips him by the hair and slams him skull-first into the wall. "You don't know anything—"

"I know what I've got back in my room, Sasuke—" Naruto hisses, baring his teeth instead of screaming. "—and you can't run away from this!"

"Shut up-shut up—"

Naruto feels the double-punch of pain in his ribs when Sasuke breaks one and it flash-heats into immediate healing—catches one straining wrist, blocks with his other arm.

"You shut up, you're so full of shit, Sasuke!" and the blond yanks those wicked-clever fast hands away from his throat and snarls at him through the blinding pain, bares his teeth and soul and shoves him back— "You stupid bastard! I didn't come here to fight but I'll—" Pushing back until Naruto sees the pale bitten-bloody line of Sasuke's mouth stretched back from his teeth—

"I'm not—" Naruto growls, wrestling the dirty, black-clad boy down with a punch to the temple and bending back the wrist. "Stop trying to hit me and listen, you fucked-up bastard—"

For a second, Naruto doesn't realize the stinging pain and blurriness to his vision is his fault—he's staring down at the half-wild, half-mad Uchiha he's caught and pinned, fractured and ground to a halt at the smallest, deepest part of him.

Why? Why can't you—why won't you—just tell me what you want, Sasuke!

There is a horrible grin stretching over Sasuke's face, eyes too bright and nothing funny reflected in the gleam.

"...just...I just wanted to hurt you. And you—" Sasuke's toneless voice breaks into discordant laughter. "You let me." He stares up with that awful expression and the blond is so furious the high-pitched snarl grates out between his teeth.

And Sasuke says, "So get rid of it, I don't want—"

"Why would you say that?!" Naruto roars or shrieks or breaks, throat tighter than the panic threading his middle, hands fisted on a stained shirt and lifting Sasuke to his face. "Don't you say that—"

Are you afraid of me now?

And even though his voice breaks before the rest of the words pull free, his eyes blur so Naruto snaps the un-resisting weight of Sasuke back and forth with two rough shakes.

Do you hate me?

"...just get…" Sasuke mumbles, head tilted far enough to stare listless to the ceiling, listening to something Naruto couldn't hear. "…it doesn't matter, stupid dobe, I'm just supposed to…" that soft, discordant giggle-sound that Naruto thought no one else could ever sound like. "I'm supposed to kill you, Itachi said so."

"Fuck Itachi—"

Always too damn fast, Sasuke hits him across the face in cold ferocity, struggling to find enough traction to wriggle free and Naruto spits the blood aside and sits on his legs and—after snatching at one wrist while struggling to keep his grip on the other—slams the hands back to the floor and scowls at Sasuke.

"Fuck your shit-bag brother," Naruto snarls, shaking and too scared of letting go and watching Sasuke's eyes flash with the red-light of the moon. "It's his fault you're like this—You don't get it, bastard, I'm not gonna just sit back and—"

Sasuke's hands are white-knuckled and strong as he jerks against Naruto's grip, working his feet for a purchase and drawing a thin, furious breath through clenched teeth. Heavier and far from as exhausted as Sasuke is, Naruto rolls with his efforts and waits less than a minute before Sasuke abruptly stops. Chest shuddering, arms trembling under the blonds's fingers, Sasuke's face is averted and hidden under ink-black hair.

"If he shows up," Naruto tries his best not to sound hoarse and nearly succeeds. "T-Then I'll fight. I'll think of something. I—I j-just—"

"—you'll die," is what Sasuke whispers, breath catching. "It doesn't matter—it's fucking impossible—it doesn't matter what you do he'll kill you—"

"Don't you tell me what's impossible, Sasuke!"

"Get out. Get out, dobe, go away—I can't look at you I don't need to talk to you, get out!" and even Sasuke feels a mild stab of surprise as the force his violent, shifting heave sends Naruto tumbling onto his side—you don't understand!—

"I don't care if you fight, you'll die, so you're useless to me—" Sasuke twists with painful, panic-fueled adrenaline and lands a solid kick to Naruto's chest and watches how he slides through moonlight and past the shadows until the blond thuds into the wall with a strangled noise. "Stop wasting my time."

Go away, something wails internally. Go away because I can't—I can't stand to let you—

"Fine, you fucking coward, fine—I don't want your help you fucked-up piece of shit—" and the blond staggers to his knees, eyes a strange red-silver in the reflection of the light, the expression on his face unmatched to his anger. Naruto's rolling onto his front with jerky gasping sounds and his wounded, enraged "If that's what you want!" echoes through the house, whispering back behind the shadows. "—so you stay the fuck away unless you grow some balls and ever want to talk to me!"

Three seconds later, Naruto's beside the window and ripping it open with movements precise and fluid; the glass shatters, air shimmering as Naruto flings the frame aside and vanishes.

From where he's fallen, Sasuke closes his eyes and turns to the pain waiting for him, swallows it down and passes out.