A/N: Apologies for the rapid-fire chapters. Apparently, now that the floodgates have been opened after YEARS of being away, the chapters aren't willing to wait for any more possible periods of lax productivity? Thank you, as always, for anyone still reading this story. Your words of encouragement and support in the comments mean more than you'll ever know!
As always, I own nothing, and am making zero money.
Sasuke
It was a new thing, and a strange one, getting his ass kicked by an opponent who kept apologizing for it.
"I'm so sorry, Baby Panda!" Kushina bellowed, even as she landed another bare-knuckled punch to Sasuke's face that sent him flying.
He sailed into the nearest wall, blood on his tongue and pain going off like a flashbomb behind his eyes. Kushina shouted after him, "I don't really mean it!"
The wall gave way beneath Sasuke's weight, and he fell into a pile of something that had the consistency of mud, or pudding. The details of Madara's genjutsu were flickering, crumbling, coming apart like picked threads. After forcing his way into the illusion, Sasuke had come to in a flat expanse of empty space—not in the pretty little house that Madara had imagined for him the last time they'd been like this. No Mom, or Dad, or sweet little sister to be found. Kakashi and Sakura hadn't had exactly the same experience, they'd reported upon convening at Naruto's house, pale and drawn and with the glittering eyes of someone recently wounded—Madara had planned something for them, traps tailored to what he believed them to be, because of course he'd figured that if anyone was coming after Naruto, it would be those two. But for Sasuke, only an empty space, because Madara really was that arrogant—he apparently hadn't planned any kind of failsafe for Sasuke, because he'd probably believed with all his scheming heart that Sasuke was his to control.
Fucker.
But while the setting of the genjutsu was splintering around them—the house going from tangible to intangible, depending on where you stepped, the faces or hands missing from family photos like blank spots in a sentence, the blood-red sun bleeding through the illusion, like a Sharingan eye blazing in the dark—that didn't mean that it was weak. Only that most of the illusion's power had been redirected, was being pumped into Kushina's fists, making them fast and sharp and deadly serious. This was no wilting ghost with punches that felt like fading twilight. This was raw power packed inside a genjutsu casing and somehow humming with a spark of actual self that made Kakashi's face pale behind his mask, made Sakura's eyes dampen even as she took over the space Sasuke had been forcibly ejected from, fists straining inside her leather gloves.
"You mean it a little bit," Sasuke muttered, even as he rolled back to his feet. Didn't bother spitting out the blood dribbling from his split lip, because it wasn't real, and knowing that, remembering that, was another kind of power.
"Okay," Kushina agreed, even as she dodged the total devastation of Sakura's swinging fists. "But, rest assured, that when I inevitably kicked your ass for real it would have been of my own volition and probably because your head very obviously absorbs lessons best when they're beaten in!"
"Ha," Kakashi sang out from across the room, where he was attempting to get past Minato. Minato didn't seem capable of fighting, not like Kushina. Any actual hits he attempted to land were soft, slow, lacking any real impact. But Minato was succeeding at being a pretty effective wall in the way of Kakashi's attempts to get to Naruto. He was fast, ridiculously fast, the kind of fast that Sasuke remembered reading about in Leaf Village history books, extolling the talents of its greatest warriors. Wherever Kakashi tried to be, Minato was already there, and he blocked Kakashi's resulting attacks with the ease of someone who'd trained him.
"Fucking hell, Hatake!" Sasuke called out. "Didn't you get past your old Sensei even once?"
"Fucking hell, Sasuke!" Kakashi caroled back, even as he attempted to ricochet off the nearest wall, only to run right into Minato, who had apparently calculated his trajectory before Kakashi had even finished making it, and reacted accordingly. "Didn't you just get tossed into a wall, face-first, by a woman half your size and wearing an apron with little flowers on it?"
Kushina howled, "Hell yeah!" flowered apron fluttering as she dodged Sakura's next punch. A lamp went flying instead, exploded into powdery bits of dust and yawning darkness, and made a noise like a yowling cat upon impact, because apparently losing hold of the genjutsu meant that Madara's imagined creations fell back on the Uchiha default state of being really fucking creepy and kind of upsetting. Sasuke wore the fan and defended his family name as best he could from its various, and okay, sometimes deserved, unsavory reputations, but that didn't make him totally blind to the aesthetic they gravitated towards as a whole. Someday, when the raging inferno of being furious for (and at) his brother eased a little, Sasuke was probably going to find it funny that Itachi had interpreted 'allow myself to be cast as the villain' as 'I must wear nail polish, speak only in whispers, and float along like a little black cloud of apparent evil and elaborate hair'.
So lame, Big Brother, Sasuke thought to himself, fighting a tiny smile, even as the pain of it ripped through him like swallowing barbed wire, tiny spikes of hurt tearing at the tender flesh of his insides.
Across the room, Kushina landed a sudden, totally solid punch that sent Sakura into a wall of her own.
Sasuke moved, intent on taking over, but Sakura re-appeared in front of him before he could get there, one plaster-coated leather glove held out to stop him.
"No," she said. "I've got this. Kakashi-Sensei's got the dad. You need to get to Naruto, Sasuke."
Sasuke bristled—at being sent away from the fight in favor of a rescue mission, of being sent away by Sakura.
"You should go and get him," he snapped back.
Sakura cut him a look, even while flipping away from the kick Kushina landed that cracked the floorboards where Sakura had been standing only seconds before.
"That wasn't actually a suggestion," Sakura said.
"Hell yes," Kushina cheered, even as she fired off a wave of shuriken. "Crush that boy with the power of your double X chromosomes!"
"What the fuck," Sasuke demanded, of both Sakura and Naruto's mom.
"Stop puffing up like an offended Uchiha-cat," Sakura snapped back. "I'm busy. Too busy to explain why your attempts to fight inside this genjutsu are going to be way less effective than mine. But if your manly Uchiha cat-fur is really that bristly, then I'll tell you that I wouldn't let Kakashi fight the big bad in this particular instance, either. For pretty much the same reason. And he doesn't have a problem with it. Right, Sensei?"
"Looking at my old Sensei's face makes me want to vomit and cry in equal measure!" Kakashi called back, cheerful about it, like this was somehow an answer to Sakura's question.
"I'm so sorry, Kakashi," Minato said, with what sounded like actual sincerity, face open and earnest as he blocked Kakashi back into a wall. "It's unfair of Madara to hurt you like this."
Kakashi eye-smiled. "Aw, Sensei. You're making it a million times worse, thanks!"
"I know that fighting is what you understand best," Sakura said, softening the barest bit even as she landed a hit on Kushina that rocked the women through the kitchen doorway, glasses shattering distantly from wherever she landed. Sakura turned to look at him, blood on her forehead and bruises already purpling her left cheekbone, green eyes like fire in the reddish wash of dying light. "But maybe your job could be not to fight. Just this once, Sasuke, maybe you could save the day with something other than fire and fists and all of that bottled up Uchiha rage that I am honestly going to medically diagnose someday."
It curled bitter on his tongue, the idea of walking away from this fight. But Kushina was already hurtling back through the doorway, into the foyer, and Sakura was stepping in front of him, cutting off any attempt he might have made to go around her. He still could, of course. Sakura was strong, Sasuke could admit that now, if only to himself. But she wasn't stronger than Sasuke.
"He's always followed after you," Sakura said, quiet in spite of the continuing cracks of Kakashi and Minato's nearby battle, of the aching groans of the house around them as it wobbled on its foundation. "Always, Sasuke. Even when we didn't want him to anymore. So go and give him something to chase after."
And Sasuke…stopped. Inhaled. Because she wasn't stronger than him but she wasn't…wrong, either.
That also curled bitter on his tongue, Sakura being right, but there was a sweetness to it, too.
Sasuke went, retreating toward the living room where Naruto was being held. Kushina attempted to come after him, compelled by the genjutsu, but Sakura cut her off with a full-body block.
"Uchiha!" Kushina called after him. She struggled against Sakura's hold, viciously pushing back and forcing Sakura's braced feet to slide a precious few centimeters, but there was a wide, toothy smile on her face. "That's my baby in there. Don't fuck this up, okay? I'm trusting you."
"Trusting the success of this mission to Sasuke," Sakura despaired as her arm and leg muscles bulged with her attempts to keep Kushina in place.
Kushina gave Sakura a commiserating pat on the back with one hand, even as her other hand wound up for another punch. "You're doing great. That punch through the kitchen doorway was inspired! I broke so many drinking glasses!"
"Aw, thanks," Sakura said back, grunting through an honest smile as she re-maneuvered her arm to block Kushina's hit. "But I've still got nothing on you. That shuriken umbrella was flawless."
Sasuke rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling even as he darted toward the living room. This was seriously the weirdest fight.
Naruto's position hadn't changed at all since they'd first arrived. He was still bound to the living room floor by strange, multi-colored threads. He was quiet and unmoving. What Sasuke could see of his face was blank and glassy. There was also some kind of wall, invisible to the eye but undeniably firm, blocking the living room entryway.
Sasuke tried beating on it with his fist first. He yelled a few tasteful variations of, "Get the hell up, you idiot!"
But Naruto didn't move and Sasuke really didn't have the time to keep trying that particular method. Instead, he breathed deep, calming his mind as best he could with the sounds of battle raging behind him, and imbued himself with the belief that none of this was real. That it was a trick of the mind, and minds could be changed and shaped.
He pushed through the wall slowly, laboriously, with a grimace on his face because it was like shoving through seaweed while underwater. His fingers kept catching and tangling, and there was an unpleasant pressure surrounding him.
But eventually, Sasuke stumbled out of the barrier and into the living room. Where Naruto was.
But he wasn't alone.
Because fucking Danzo was there, too, standing in front of Naruto with a smile on his face and his stolen Uchiha eyes on full display.
##
Sasuke went from realization to rage in a single heartbeat, blowing right past shock and surprise without bothering to absorb them.
He didn't question why Danzo was there. He didn't wonder why he was guarding Naruto, of all people to be conjured inside this genjutsu. He didn't stop for even a single second to ponder his best way forward.
Sasuke took in Danzo's sickly, superior smile, the relaxed breadth of his shoulders like he moved with the ease of the morally just instead of bowed and made heavy by the blame for the murder of Sasuke's family, the fucking Uchiha eyes trapped inside his skin, burning red and staring at Sasuke like they recognized kin, like they were begging for absolution.
Sasuke took all of this in, thought Itachi, quiet and perfectly clear inside the roaring of his head, and attacked.
Danzo was fast. And he was strong. He drew on the power of the Uchiha eyes that he'd stolen, which made choke on a fury so dark that it tasted like black licorice, stinging and somehow sweet on Sasuke's tongue.
But Sasuke had become, in the span of a few seconds, a creature of pure anger and adrenaline. None of the blows that Danzo landed were felt. His mouth was moving, Sasuke was distantly aware of it. But he didn't hear a single one of his undoubtedly lofty words about Uchiha traitors and upholding the safety of the Leaf village.
All Sasuke could hear was the roaring in his ears. All he could feel was the rapid beat of his heart, beating out a rhythm against his ribcage that felt like his brother's name.
It took a while. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. But he drove Danzo back, with Chidori, with chakra, with his fists and feet, carefully avoiding striking the Uchiha eyes in Danzo's arm but absolutely obliterating him anywhere else. Eventually, he had Danzo up against the wall, halfway slumped at Sasuke's feet while Sasuke stood over him with lightning crackling in his fist.
Sasuke could feel the smile stretching his face. It wasn't a happy smile, or even a sane one, but Sasuke wasn't worried about that now. He could also hear a thumping sound, like someone knocking frantically against a wall, but he wasn't worried about that, either.
Finally, finally, Danzo would pay. For Itachi. For his family. For the fucking eyes he'd stolen.
But, before he could strike, somebody said, "Sasuke."
And the voice was so familiar, something wept over and so desperately wished for since its loss that Sasuke startled right back from the murderous heights he'd ascended to.
Because Itachi was there, kneeling where Naruto had been, bound in the same multi-colored threads.
Sasuke's brain listed sideways. His knees unlocked and he staggered to the left. Something hot caught in his chest like a flame, rushing upwards, filling his throat and burning at his eyes, filling them with water before he could stop it.
"Brother," he whispered, because he'd waited so long to use Itachi's proper title. Waited too long. "You—what are you—?"
"I implanted a piece of myself in Naruto when last I met him," Itachi explained. His face was placid. He didn't seem inclined to struggle against the bonds. There was none of the desperate, draining energy that Sasuke remembered from their last fight. Only calm serenity and serious eyes. "An echo. A failsafe."
"You—and it's activating now?"
"Yes. Because this—you can't do this, Sasuke."
Sasuke stared, mouth open and hand curled limp around the lightning he'd gathered. "Do what? Kill the sack of shit that wiped out our entire clan? Who labeled you a traitor and let you die that way? Are you fucking serious, Itachi?"
Itachi winced a little. Presumably at the sudden heat in Sasuke's voice, but also because, "Your friend is in here as well, sharing this body. His true self, buried deep by the genjutsu. He's, ah—yelling. At quite a high pitch. About 'block-headed bastards and their agendas, I'm totally going to kick the stupid out of you when I get loose again'."
"Tell him to shut the hell up," Sasuke snapped, instinctive, before startling all over again. Because he'd forgotten. One look at Danzo, and he'd forgotten all about Naruto. About the mission.
"Fuck," Sasuke said. "This is—Madara did have a failsafe for me."
Itachi inclined his head. "Of course he did. Our ancestor would never trust in the loyalty of those around him, even if they shared blood. He never fully trusted me, after all. Madara prides himself on being prepared for any outcome, for countering any attack."
Sasuke glanced down at Danzo. And, now that the rage had cleared his eyes a little, he could see the flaws in the design. The way Danzo seemed frozen in place now that Sasuke had stopped attacking.
But Madara had known. That as soon as Sasuke clapped eyes on Danzo, he'd lose sight of anything else.
"Not real," Sasuke murmured, because there was power in believing it. But then, to Itachi, he said, "But you would have stopped me even if he was. Right?"
Itachi stared back at him, impassive.
The fury returned, but this time it wasn't black. This time it was boiling.
"Why? You wasted time and chakra to set up a failsafe to stop me from killing this asshole, but not to, I don't know, find me somehow and explain things yourself? To clue me in on what you'd been doing all these years? To—," Sasuke's voice cracked in half, faltered.
"To?" Itachi prompted.
"To—I killed you. I killed you."
"You did exactly what I needed you to. What I'd planned."
A beat of silence, and then Itachi winced a second time. "Oh, he's yelling again. At me, this time, apparently. He—did he just call me a 'giant, red-eyed dick, a total raging erection of dramatic bullshit'?"
In spite of himself, and the situation, Sasuke wheezed a little.
"Ah," Itachi said, after a moment of quiet consideration. "He—apparently, your friend thinks I should apologize. For having you kill me. For never explaining what was really going on. For, apparently, 'fucking him right up into a snake-chasing, scantily clad, absolute tragedy ninja that frolicked merrily away from his Village'."
"Naruto," Sasuke said. "Stop fucking helping me."
"Should I apologize?" Itachi wondered, head tipped curiously to the left. "For so perfectly executing a plan?"
Sasuke glared daggers at his brother. "You are a total erection. I'd forgotten."
Itachi huffed out something that could have been a laugh, could have been a sigh.
He said, "I do apologize, Sasuke. Because you suffered. Because you're still suffering. But an apology's not really what you're after, is it?"
Sasuke deeply, truly resented the fact that, even though he'd spent a majority of their sibling relationship pretending to be an asshole of the evil variety and not just the sibling variety, that Itachi had apparently never lost the Older Brother superpower of knowing exactly what was in the head and heart of his younger one.
With a tiny smile that took the knees out from under Sasuke, sent him reeling into the nearest wall, Itachi said, "I forgive you. Of course I forgive you, Sasuke."
Sasuke tipped his head against the wall. The words rang through him like a bell, like a blow, like something he'd wanted so desperately but had resigned himself to never hearing.
"None of this was your fault," Itachi continued. "All of this was set into motion long before you played any part in it. All you did was carry out the destiny I'd planned for you without your knowledge and you—you can't be blamed for what you didn't know."
"But I fucked up," Sasuke whispered, the words shredding against his vocal cords, coming out thin and strained. He didn't want to say it and maybe this was all another illusion anyway, but it might be his only chance. "After. I—hurt people. I hurt you. I fucked up, Itachi, and it was all me."
"You did," Itachi agreed. "As we all do. As we all have. You have a chance to fix it now, to have a destiny of your own design." He looked past Sasuke, to the image of Danzo cowering on the floor. "But not if you do this. Not if you choose to walk where Madara would lead you instead."
"But what he did—what they all did—"
"Is not your burden to bear just because of your last name. You can step away from this. You can remove yourself from the plots and schemes of the past and choose to make a better future."
"They took everything. Everything. They have to pay. They have to—"
"And what would that solve?" For the first time, something like frustration colored Itachi's voice. "Would that bring me back, Sasuke? Would it bring back our mother, our father? Our clan? Would it do anything except stain your hands with blood in the pursuit of a justice that blood will never bring about?"
Sasuke ground his teeth, vibrating in place with wanting to rebel against the truth of Itachi's words. Of being unable to.
"You can restore my honor," Itachi murmured. "The honor of the Uchiha. But not if you're remembered only as a creature of fury and vengeance that followed the orders of villains instead of his own mind."
"You…shut the hell up," Sasuke said, but even he could hear the defeat in his voice. "Just had to get a subtle dig in there about my lack of intelligence when compared to your majestic genius, didn't you?"
"I do have concerns about leaving you in charge of anything in my absence," Itachi said, all serene agreement. "In that you seem to prefer doing the stupidest thing possible, without hesitation or any kind of higher thought?"
"Oh, fuck you." Sasuke took a breath. "What do I do? How do I get us out of this?"
Itachi smiled, a wider smile than before, all crinkled eyes and approving warmth. "I can't tell you."
"You—seriously. Seriously? You refuse to drop the Dramatic, Mysterious Asshole routine even in the afterlife?"
"Some things have to be earned," Itachi said, prim and superior. Sasuke had forgotten, after years of boiling hatred and rage, just how annoying his brother was, underneath it all. Itachi glanced at Danzo. "He will move again, after I'm gone. He will speak. He will say things that, most likely, are not untrue. About our clan and about me."
Sasuke threw up his hands. "But you…don't want me to kill him?"
"I want you to choose what's important," Itachi said, just rocking his chosen aesthetic like a champion.
"And right after you gave me that speech about how I always make the stupid decision," Sasuke said. "Nice."
"I'm not worried." The smile faded, but Itachi's eyes stayed crinkled and warm. It was how he'd looked at him in the split second before he'd fallen, his fingers warm against Sasuke's forehead but cooling rapidly. "You are capable of great stupidity, Sasuke. But you are also capable of more. So much more. I've never doubted that, not even for a second."
Sasuke swallowed. He wanted to beg Itachi for the answer, but knew he wouldn't give it. He wanted to beg him to stay, but knew he couldn't. His throat was absolutely raw, charred black with all of the things he wanted to say but knew he didn't have time for.
He settled for stepping forward on legs that refused to lock and reaching out with one hand.
"I never should have doubted you, either," he said. "Brother. I forgive you, too. You—rest easy. Okay?"
And he poked Itachi in the forehead with two trembling fingers.
"And, just so we're clear—your bad guy aesthetic was super fucking lame."
Itachi smiled. Wide and real, like he had when they were children and Sasuke had come racing through the compound, eager to show off what he'd learned at school that day in the hopes of earning this very smile.
He smiled even as his features blurred, vanished, sliding away like a painted mask and leaving Naruto's eerily expressionless face once again.
The smile was the very last thing to disappear.
Alone again, Sasuke took the time for two breaths, as deep as he could manage them. Wasn't very deep, and they were ridiculous wet-sounding. Scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. Tried to stand upright in a way that passed for steady, even though he was visibly shaking and apparently powerless to stop it.
"Is that the best you have to offer?" Danzo sneered from behind him. "What a shame that the only Uchiha left is the one least worthy of the name."
Sasuke didn't even look at him. Couldn't. Even the sound of Danzo's voice made his Sharingan wheel in his head, his hands cramp toward the Chidori seals. "Oh, good. You're mobile again. Fucking wonderful."
"Come and show me what your family's honor is worth," Danzo agreed, the asshole.
Sasuke took deep, measured breaths through his tightly clenched teeth. He'd never been great at the whole 'restraint in the face of my enemy' thing. Exhibit A: his entire life. He'd faked a version of it when under Orochimaru's tutelage, but overall, Sasuke was much more the type to launch himself katana-first at those he considered worthy foes and ignore anyone who might tell him otherwise with cheerful, slightly crazy aplomb.
Walking away from Danzo—who was an illusion, sure, but who was also right there with an accurate approximation of his stolen Sharingan on display and who also kept running his damn mouth like he desperately wanted Sasuke to put his sword in the middle of it—was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Each step felt like ripping off a piece of skin, of self, and leaving it behind, trailing blood and failed obligation to his family as he went.
But he went. Because Itachi had told him he could more than vengeance and blood debts. Because he was sick of someone else using his anger for their own purposes. Because Sakura had said that he was their best chance at bringing Naruto back to himself and honestly believed it.
Because Kushina had looked at him, glowing with that sense of honest self even as Madara controlled her movements, and said, 'I'm trusting you with my boy'.
One step.
It would be so easy, even if it wasn't real.
Two.
Danzo said, "Running away like a coward. It's what you're best at, isn't it?"
Three.
Sweating for no real reason he could name, Sasuke dropped to his knees in front of Naruto.
"Oi," he said. "Idiot. You planning on getting up anytime soon?"
Silence. Not a single response on Naruto's face.
"Pathetic," Danzo said from behind Sasuke.
"Shut the fuck up," Sasuke snapped, but wearily. He was suddenly, overwhelmingly exhausted. Totally drained and stretched thin and unsteady like he hadn't allowed himself to be for years. "Idiot. Naruto. You are not a stupid damsel and I refuse to white-knight your ass out of here. Wake up. Move."
Nothing. Sasuke swallowed back a tired sting of frustration, tapped his fist against the shuddering floorboards.
He could do this. Itachi had said he could do this. But how-?
Choose what's important.
Fuck.
"Naruto," Sasuke said. "Hey, Naruto. It's me. It's Sasuke. For real. Chasing you for once, instead of the other way around."
Sasuke paused. Had that been a tiny flicker, the barest flutter of Naruto's eyelashes?
"I'm here," Sasuke pressed. "I'm here and you need to wake up. You need to move. I—I need you to move."
There. That was definitely a twitch in Naruto's face.
"I want you to know that Madara put a trap in the illusion to stop me, too. Because he apparently doesn't trust anyone except his own damn self, and also, you might be right about the real Uchiha bloodline ability being 'extreme tendencies toward dickishness'. My own great-great whatever put a trap in this illusion for me. A Danzo-shaped illusion."
Underneath the threads tying him down, Naruto twitched. Stretched.
"Yeah. Danzo. The total asshole who helped plot the deaths of my entire clan and then stole their eyes and stuck them in his arms. That guy."
"The Uchihas were a blight upon our Village," Danzo sneered, just in case Sasuke had forgotten the full depth of his fuckery in the last five seconds.
"He's here, Naruto," Sasuke said, forcing the words through teeth clamped tight enough to crack. "He's here, and so am I. But I'm ignoring him. I am ignoring him because your ass is stuck here on the ground."
Another flutter. Another stretch. A furrow appeared in Naruto's brow and his hands curled against the carpet.
"My family is gone. Itachi is gone. I owe it to them to go after the ones who made that happen. But you're here, and you're stuck, and you need help."
"Mrgh," Naruto mumbled, like his mouth was filled with sticky taffy. "Sss…sass…"
"I won't let you be gone, too, idiot. Who would blow out my eardrums with his unnecessary yelling? Who would chase me around the entire world like an actual moron?" Who else would believe in him, unwavering, now that Itachi was gone? Sasuke kicked Naruto in the knee, none too gently. "So get up already."
A heartbeat, and then Naruto stirred. Really, actually stirred, awareness filling up his eyes, face creasing with actual signs of life instead of slack with unnerving stillness.
"Sasuke," he said. His voice croaked and creaked like he hadn't used it in years. "You…what are you…?"
"Get up, you idiot."
But Naruto just stared at him, visibly stymied. "Did you just…save me with the power of friendship?"
Sasuke made a sound like one of Orochimaru's snakes when they'd contemplated eating him and got to his feet.
"You can cut your own damn ropes. I've done enough for you today."
Naruto blinked down at his thread cocoon before letting out a squawk of outrage. "You have a sword, you dick!"
"Pfft," Sasuke said, and spun on his heel.
Danzo was gone. Like smoke. Like a ghost.
Even if it wasn't real, it might have been Sasuke's only chance for the confrontation his very being demanded.
But he'd chosen, hadn't he? He had, and for himself, which was…something. Even if the act of choosing had felt too fast for Sasuke to process in the moment, even if the aftereffects of it were starting to wail through his head like alarms, shouting words like 'failure' and 'disgrace'. Even if the all-consuming, screaming hurt of losing Itachi all over again was starting to bleed through the shock of seeing him.
Fuck.
Sasuke closed his eyes. Breathed and breathed, and listened to the sounds of Naruto swearing and struggling behind him instead.
##
A/N: I don't know, guys, apparently my Itachi is less 'I love you always and support you no matter what you choose' like he was in the show and more 'Hey, I do love you, but also, get your shit together, kid'. Also, I played with the idea of implanting that crow-thing in Naruto. I don't know what I'm doing, it's fine. Next Up: Kakashi's POV-Does a tragic backstory still count as a backstory when its happening in present day? Asking for a friend. Happy Reading!