Chapter Seven: Chasing Pavement

The ear-splitting sound of shattering glass rang through the hall. The warm night air wafted in, and the music stopped.

Pandemonium erupted.

Sasuke lifted her to her feet. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. He had shielded her from the explosion.

Together, they slinked from the alcove. The banquet hall was in chaos. The once stately floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the gardens were no more than piles of rubble atop swaths of silk damask curtain, slashed from the ceiling. The ornate double doors to the hall were sealed in dirt— an Earth technique of some sort. Higa's guards slumped lifeless under a bloody row of shuriken, embedded in the wall.

The divide between shinobi and civilians among the guests was plain— the former drew their own weapons; the latter scrambling for the walls. Every eye in the room was trained at the western wall: a dozen bandits, clad in black masks. Some held swords, others were bare-fisted.

It would be a bloodbath.

"Stay put," he said.

Before she could protest, he disappeared into the fray. Shuriken and kunai whistled by. An errant exploding tag sent a sofa careening through the air, and a blanket of earth rose in a wave, extinguishing half the suspended oil lamps, and plunging the room further in darkness—

An arm wrapped around her waist.

Sakura twisted against her assailant, but it was one of Higa's personal guards. He hauled her through a hidden door where Higa waited, flanked by other uniformed men. Wordlessly, they were hustled through a blur of dark hallways and down endless flights of stairs.

"What's happening?" she asked.

Higa shook his head, lips pressed together. They stopped at a thick door, marked with chakra seals. He beckoned her inside and shut the door with the guards outside. Chakra glowed, and several intricate seals locked.

They were the seating room of a simply furnished suite. Around the corner, there was a fully stocked pantry, and another cabinet of weapons. This was an escape plan. Higa had anticipated tonight going the way it did. "Why did you shut them out?"

"I don't trust them."

"Why not?"

He studied her face, and she realized her mask was gone. "Someone's been breaking into my office."

Every hair on her neck stood. "How do you know?"

He pulled a familiar black transmitter from his pocket and threw it at her feet. She carefully schooled her expression into one of surprise. "What's that?"

"A radio transmitter and mic for recording conversations" he said, watching her carefully. "I found it in my office."

She nodded. "Who do you think put it there?"

"It's the newest model. Military grade," he said.

"A shinobi."

"I thought so too, but the placement was strange. No trained shinobi would plant a mic next to a running pipe in the wall. This was an amateur's work," he said.

Praise the gods. "A staff member?"

He nodded. "I first noticed it last month. Documents shifting overnight. Ink smudged on contracts I haven't touched. I have a rat."

"Is that why you threw this party? To figure out who they were?"

"Among other reasons," he said.

Before she could process what Higa told her, a guard knocked on the door. "We can return, Higa-sama. The hall is clear." That was fast.

"Stay here," Higa said.

Sakura shot to her feet. "I'd feel safer up there than with your guards."

"You might see some upsetting things," he warned.

Sakura nodded.

The guard led them back up, and her heart fluttered. The banquet hall was in ruins. Piles of marble, glass, and stone littered the cracked inlays of the floor, smeared in spots with blood. Several of the intricate archways were in pieces, and upended tables rolled over what remained of the satin tablecloths, smoldering with flames. Bodies littered the ground.

Sasuke stood under a burning archway, unrecognizable from earlier this evening. His vest and robe were singed, the once camel-sleeves black with char and blood. He looked furious.

"Ito-san!"

Sasuke turned and his expression softened. They met halfway, and with dread, she noticed a smudge of her lipstick on his chin. Luckily, it looked like blood.

"You're still here. Why didn't you run?" Higa asked.

Sasuke looked at Higa so coldly, she was surprised his knees did not buckle. "I was looking for her."

"She was with me." Higa took in the room. "I suppose I won't be hosting parties anytime soon. Are there any survivors?"

"I don't know," he lied. Sakura knew he knew there were no other detectable chakra signatures in the room.

His shoulders looked stiff. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I have a medic-nin," Higa offered.

Sasuke looked as though he'd rather swallow a large kunai. "I'm fine."

"Thank you for your help tonight." Higa took in Sasuke's appearance. "Once you're recovered, come to my office. I have an offer I'd like to discuss with you."


Sakura sprinted free of the complex. Red dust caked her boots as she crossed the vast swath of undeveloped land around the warlord's estate and onto the main road. The town slept on, the empty shopfronts of market street barely lit by the blue light of dawn. Sakura picked out the discreet cafe between two salons.

A man in his early seventies, the first soul she'd seen since the guard at her door, counted coins at the register. The shop was empty save half a dozen chairs, flipped onto the bar.

"A lovely day, isn't it?" he asked, eyes on his paper.

"Full of promise."

At the code word, he rose and unlocked a door leading to a small set of stairs in the back. She thanked him and climbed up. The wooden landing was flooded with pastel light. She entered a charming little patio, open-air but hidden from the main street. Sai sat at a table, painting.

"Did I beat him here?"

Sai nodded.

Sakura sank into a chair. Was he injured? "I wish the sky always looked like that"

"Would you still admire it?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"The novelty would fade." Sai rolled his rice-paper creation into a scroll and dismantled his easel. "What happened last night?"

...

The sun broke over the mountain, and color leeched into the street. Dull greys became the red of apple skin, the bronze of ten-ryo coins, and cornflower blue of a shopfront. Sakura once asked him what seeing with the Mangekyo was like. It must be beautiful.

He didn't have the heart to tell her it was a hellscape compared to reality— a black moon hung on a bleeding sky, a forest of corpse trees.

Sasuke found the cafe and entered. It was a small space, half-occupied with customers. An old man counted coins behind the register.

"Delivering the milk, boy?" he asked Sasuke.

"As promised."

Weathered fingers stilled. The shopkeeper slapped the ryo on the table and opened the gate. "Murderer," the old man muttered as he passed.

The store patio was small and deserted save for two inhabitants. Sakura looked up. "There you are," she said.

Sai looked at him expectantly. Sasuke tossed his Bingo Book, marked up with notes. He flipped through. "They're going to cut our funding if you keep this up." He was joking, but Sasuke wondered what would happen to ANBU if they ever ran out of criminals to hunt.

"All of who? Keep what up?" Sakura glanced between the two of them.

"Nothing." Sasuke hadn't intended to kill them all. He was going find her and head out. But he couldn't, and they kept getting in the way.

She pouted. "You two always leave me out."

Sasuke took the furthest seat from her. "Where did Higa take you?"

"This underground bunker. He had it all planned out." Sakura told them what happened.

Sai sucked a breath through his teeth. "We got lucky with that mic."

She nodded guiltily.

If Higa suspected a rat, he was probably doing routine sweeps of his office. He would've found it no matter where she hid it. "We still have yours," Sasuke said.

She brightened. "What did he want with you?"

"To hire me for a trip."

"Why would he think you'd agree? What did he offer you?" Sai asked.

"Not to bring her along." Specifically, Higa mentioned how dangerous the mountains were, and how easily a helpless girl could be kidnapped.

Sakura snorted. "How awful. That's just like him. What's the job?"

"He said it'd take two days and that I should bring a cloak."

Sai looked sharply at him. "Scouting the mine."

"Yeah."

"You're gonna go?"

"Yeah." The mission revision came in by messenger bird this morning. He tossed it to Sai first, by habit.

"Who do we think is behind the attack?" Sai unfurled the scroll.

Sakura tapped her lip. "It had have been someone he's known for at least a month, since they knew about the restaurant and took the documents. I think there are three possibilities." She ticked them off her fingers. "One, someone from his household- Tanaka, the servants. Two, a business rival, likely one of the guests last night. Three, another village, most likely Iwa, since he contracted them first. They might've even sent an undercover team like us, probably last month when they received the contract, they're probably gone by now. Or any combination of the three." Shrewd green eyes turned to look at him. "What do you think?"

A strange feeling settled into his chest. "Yeah."

Sai nodded and passed the new mission scroll to Sakura. "Can't say I'm surprised."

Sakura scanned it. "This council is unbelievable."

Sasuke doubted that Higa's formal offer to Konoha was met with anything less than eager anticipation. For all their airs of morality, the new elders inherited the ruthless pragmatism of their predecessors. That he wasn't locked behind bars was a testament to the lengths they would go to maintain Konoha's influence within the Shinobi Union.

"Higa's offer is good news for the village," Sai said. "And for us- he wouldn't request Konoha shinobi if he suspected the two of you."

"So we're staying?" she asked, a little glum. "The mission's still on?"

Sasuke nodded. With crystal gem on the market, Konoha was no longer interested in dissolving financial ties with Higa. Rather, the opposite. Their new mission was to figure out as much as they could about Higa's contracts with the other villages. They were also to work in the shadows and protect the warlord until the new, legitimate team from Konoha arrived.

"Did you hear back about Scorpion?" Sakura asked.

Sai nodded. "We're reclassified this mission to S-class."

"How come?"

He passed a red Bingo Book to her— Suna's redacted version. "Scorpion," she read. "Age estimated between twenty-five and forty. Conflicting reports of appearance. User of jiton, an advanced chakra nature bloodline ability that converts chakra into magnetic forces." Sakura frowned. "I've seen Gaara use this in the war. Nasty stuff. Why don't they share their data with us?"

"Keep flipping," Sai said.

Sakura sifted through another handful of S-ranked nuke-nin and came to a halt. Her eyebrows shot up. "What?" She flipped the book to Sasuke, and his own sixteen-year-old face stared back. "They still have you listed!"

His blood went cold.

The photo was captured during the Kage Summit. He scowled at something off-frame, blood smeared over his cheeks.

Sasuke's memories of those years persisted in ruthless definition. Itachi's eyes overwhelmed his senses until all that remained was instinct. The rage was visceral— the clench of his chest, the heat of his blood—

Sakura's throat in his fist. How easily he'd ripped her off the ground in one hand. The annoying girl, self-sacrificing and kind, watching him with desolate green eyes. How dare she give up on him?

Do you even know what I want?

It doesn't matter. I'll do whatever you say!

At their table, those same eyes roved the irrefutable proof of his past. Stop it. Close the book.

"This is completely unwarranted." Sakura tore the page out of the Bingo Book and shredded it between her fingers. "I'm going to have a word with Gaara at the next Union meeting. You were exonerated years ago."

She looked at him, pretty eyes fierce with protectiveness, and something worn and rusted moved in his chest, as it had last night. Sasuke turned away.

"Are we done here?" Sai asked, seeming to realize what he'd incited.

"Yeah," Sasuke said. "We need to recover and examine the bodies. Whoever else comes with me."

Sai and Sakura looked at each other. "You should go," Sai said. "You'll never find your way out of Higa's basement."

Sakura's gaze cooled. "Are you implying I'm bad with directions?"

"No, Hag. I'm saying you are."

Sakura was indignant. "I'm staying."

"We don't have time for a search and rescue—"

Sasuke scowled. "You, stay. You, come with me."

Sakura's eyes widened, and too late, he realized he'd pointed at the wrong people. Fuck. She turned to Sai. "Have you done an autopsy before?"

"I'll seal them for when you get back."

"Fine," she huffed. "For the record, I'm great with directions."

"Sure."

Sakura drew chakra to her fist. Sai vanished from the patio.

The bright morning sun beamed down at the vast expanse of the rooftop, and all the events of last night- everything he'd told her in that tiny, dark corner- seemed like a disastrous lapse in judgement.

"How's your back?" she asked.

As if on cue, a fresh wave of pain sent his back muscles into spasm. Sasuke clenched his jaw. "It's fine." He should've accepted Higa's offer of his own medic, Festering injuries on a mission were a liability. but he'd refused out of spite. In hindsight, the blow to his ego was preferable to Sakura.

Bleeding out was preferable to Sakura.

"It's soaking through your shirt," she said, circling him. "You got hurt from shielding me. Let me help."

Like hell he was letting her

"Please, Sasuke-kun," she whispered.

His arms moved of their own accord.

Before he knew it, he'd pulled his shirt overhead.

Sakura made quick work of his haphazard attempt at dressing the wounds. "You call this fine? One day, this tough guy act is going to get you an infection." Cool pressure settled between his shoulder blades, and the swath of skin from his shoulders to his waist went numb. Chips of glass clinked to the gravel, and the waistband of his pants grew damp.

Sasuke couldn't talk, consumed with dread of what was to come.

"Let's see how tough you are when I lop off your gangrened leg, and you're stumbling around on crutches," she muttered. Her chakra eased into his skin like warm nostalgia. A sun-soaked summer spent chasing cats, the wind through the leaves on training ground four, the aroma of ramen on a cold, winter night.

His shoulders crept to his ears. The intimacy set his teeth on edge. He was accustomed to absolute control. Here, his every pulse and breath were laid bare and naked for her scrutiny. Nowhere to hide. The numbness faded.

Sensation hit him like a tidal wave.

Her breath fanned hot against his skin, and her little hands kneaded along his spine. She was under his skin, inside his flesh, inexorable. "How's that feel?" She was too short to talk into his ear, but he shuddered regardless.

"Fine," he choked out.

"There's a lot back here. Old cuts," she said. He could hear the accusation in her voice. Sakura never left scars. It was a point of pride for her. He didn't care about scars from lesser-skilled medic-nin if it would spare him the slow torture of this.

She returned to his front, standing just under his chin. The aroma of jasmine petals and warm vanilla engulfed him. His mouth watered, the reaction so ludicrous he held his breath.

It'd never been this bad, but he'd never gone this long before.

"You should be more careful." She dragged her palms down his chest. "I won't always be around."

His brain was slowly detaching itself from the anchor points inside his skull. "You will," he told her. She would be around forever.

She looked at him strangely. "I meant when you're traveling."

Her plump lips were inches from his. If he bent down, he could kiss her again. Her hands went to his navel, and twin lines of fire shot straight to his groin. She was doing this on purpose— she had to be. There was no way she did this with all her patients. A parade of faceless, male shinobi came to mind, eagerly waiting for her to touch their bare skin like this, and Sasuke seethed.

He tore away. In the brief moment of mental clarity, he remembered that he didn't have injuries on his stomach. "What are you doing?" he growled.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, sorry. You had a bunch of old scars. I figured I'd just get them while we were at it."

Air returned to his lungs. His head cleared. He furiously tugged his shirt back on. He needed to get the hell out.

"Um, about last night…" she said.

"What about it?"

She blinked. "You kissed me."

She wanted an explanation. She deserved one. "It was nothing ," he said. " Forget it."

Hurt flashed through her eyes. "Really?"

He held a blade to her throat. Hurled lightning at her back. Stood and watched while Madara eviscerated her with a sword. Sasuke opened his mouth and no words came out.

Hurt melted into disappointment. "Fine," she mumbled, and he nearly told her. Told her everything, like he'd done in the alcove, spilling secrets that should've never been shared because he couldn't last another second without her hands on him. Forlorn green eyes bored into him. "See you in Aizu."

He nodded.

When she was gone, he slapped on his bracers. Well done, Sasuke. He yanked the straps so hard the leather ate into his flesh. What the hell was he thinking last night?

This mission demanded immediate proximity of the two of them, and he was constantly on edge. Sakura found all the cracks in his self-control and poured herself inside, like water trickling into a stone wall. Wearing him down until all that remained was the ill-fated truth:

Sasuke wanted a woman he had no right to want.


AN: For 6 years, that was the final line of this story 😅